Contact

by Gron

Chapter 19 - Whispers of the Mind

If one were to ask somepony living in Detrot to describe their city, there was a good chance the answer would be ‘crowded’. They would not have been lying. The population of the city far exceeded that of Canterlot, so much so that businesses and houses had long spilled out of the original city boundaries. Numerous factories that lined the skyline were the main distinguishing feature of the city – that and the black smoke they constantly belched into the atmosphere. Complaints and petitions had come and gone; eager politicians had tried to seize the opportunity to gain a support base, and promises that the city would clean up its act had been made so often that they had come to be seen as a sign of normalcy by the city’s inhabitants. Eventually, all that came of it were token measures that were ignored as soon as the furore had died down, and the same politicians who had pledged to fight for their cause now lambasted them and were labelled as potential saboteurs and terrorists who wanted to destroy the economic life of the city, their pockets heavy with the bits ‘donated’ by the factory owners and investors.

The architecture and general maintenance of their buildings and infrastructure also sharply contrasted to the capital city. Whereas even the areas where the less affluent ponies resided were still kept as clean and beautified as possible in Canterlot, Detrot’s citizens seemed to show less concern for their surroundings. A fair number of their buildings had been covered in soot for so long that trying to guess their original colours was an exercise in futility. Privately owned homes were a rarity in this city, most of them having been bought out to construct large apartment complexes to house the workers. They had quickly become dilapidated, crumbling messes, yet were eagerly paid for because of the lack of a suitable replacement. Health and building inspectors had repeatedly condemned the structures when they bothered to show up, but their letters and notices were repeatedly ignored.

The crowds would often clog the narrow streets, slow moving traffic a given at any time of the day. Carriage operators would so often hurl obscenities at one another as they slowly moved through the gridlock that they could have been taken as a form of greeting or endearment. The sidewalks were also jam-packed during most of the day and a considerable portion of the night, ponies bustling to get to their workplaces, often bumping and jostling into each other. Such encounters would usually end in either one or both parties hurling vulgar remarks that were a poor replacement for the birds that had long abandoned the city.

The ponies themselves were fairly unremarkable, each one merely trying to grind out their daily jobs, some simply wanting to put food into the mouths of their family. Then there were those who sought out the various clubs and underground parties that dotted the city, desiring a temporary escape from the drudgery of daily life. One could always find other - if illegal - means of pleasure. There was always a pony with that oily smile that never quite reached his eyes wearing an oversized trench coat, displaying his goods for sale. Mares and even the occasional stallion could also be sought, flashing sultry smiles that immediately announced their trade and promised a good time for a small price, their makeup accentuating their features. Most wore nothing – not even a trench coat – or wore several strategically placed, skimpy clothing that drew the eyes of potential clients to their ‘goods’.

One could even find a few vagrants wandering around, begging, or sleeping in flimsy cardboard boxes, often their only protection against the biting cold. Unlike Canterlot, the politicians had stopped caring about the city’s image a long time ago, only ensuring that the Palace did not see fit to stick their noses in their affairs. If anything, they embraced the hard and fast image they portrayed to the rest of the kingdom. It was certainly easy to do so from the lap of luxury.

Towards the northern end of the city was a walled off section where security was heightened. Ordinary ponies had long learned not to bother trying to gain access unless they were the maids or pool boys. Unlike the rest of the city, the streets here were well maintained - no potholes or missing cobblestones to trip anypony. Here the bankers, the politicians, the merchants, the minor nobility who had been displaced from Canterlot all lived in their opulent mansions, smiling at each other while scheming and plotting behind their backs. Even amongst these grand estates, one stood out. Not because it was too run down or ramshackled. It was a three story building, built of thick slabs of concrete and steel. Functional and keeping aesthetic appeal to the barest minimum, it contrasted so much to its lavish surroundings that its neighbours had filed several complaints against it, claiming it had violated one arbitrary building code or another. Their protests had fallen on deaf ears; the mayor, who was usually quite receptive to their advances, had been unusually stubborn and obstinate whenever the topic had been raised. Their shrill cries had tapered off, and the unfortunate souls had to grit their teeth and bear with their unwanted neighbour, their only recourse being complaining to their friends at their lavish tea parties. They would offer sympathies while being silently thankful they were not in the same position.

Still, it was of some curiosity as to why the Society for the Advancement of Magic and Technology had decided on setting their base of operations in this city all those years ago. For their long dead founders, it had been a simple explanation. It was the same reason that the level of corruption not seen elsewhere in Equestria had taken root here, while poverty, something other cities frowned upon its very existence, was ignored, why the seedy underbelly of the city could walk the streets without fear of reprisal. Why? Because the shadow of the alicorn sisters did not reach them as it once had.

***

The front door opened with a groan as the slender stallion slipped in cautiously, closing the door as quietly as he could. Despite his best efforts, the mere click as the door slid shut echoed through the empty hallway. He held his breath for a moment before releasing it in relief. The last time he had made as much noise, one of the research ponies had teleported in front of him and began screaming at him for disturbing their work. He shivered slightly, both from the memory and the coldness of the room. Even though he had once lived here for years, he had forgotten how cold it could get. Despite the overhead windows being barred shut, the room was almost frigid. He had asked his Master about it once but had never received a response. He knew better than to ask again.

He padded down the hallway, careful to keep his hooves on the plush red carpet that greatly aided in keeping his steps muffled. Down the narrow corridor he went, stopping occasionally to glance at his surroundings. At both his sides were wooden walls contrasting with the concrete material most of the exterior of the building was made of. They were a deepish brown and polished. He could swear that they glowed intermittently, though he never witnessed it directly, with it always playing out in his peripheral vision. At a certain point in his journey, he reached a section where a great number of life sized portraits fitted into golden frames of many of the Society’s more famous members. He could feel their lifeless stares glaring down at him as he passed, both at eye level and above him, pressing down on him, surrounding him, judging him. He unconsciously quickened his pace as he neared the end of his trip, counting the portraits as he went, never daring to look at them directly.

“Grayhoof the Pilgrim, discovered the pony pox virus, died when he injected himself and ten others with a strain that was supposed to act as a cure. Treebeard Fourcleft, invented the cloning spell, died when he exhausted his magic reserves, not knowing how much energy it took and was unable to cut the spell off. The Bright brothers, invented the hoof gliders that aided unicorns and earth ponies who wanted to fly. Died when they crashed into Mount Neverest.” His quiet, soft voice recited the words, letting the memorised yet still slightly disturbing facts about the ponies wash over him and lend him a sense of calm. Finally, he came across the last picture in the gauntlet, one that allowed him to smile to himself. It was of Goldwing. Unlike most of the stiff, formal looks of the ponies on the wall, she sported a wide grin, standing proudly with her wings flared, the challenge in her eyes reflecting back to him. He stopped for a moment to admire her golden plumage, the slender body of the mare down to the brown shield set ablaze by a phoenix that comprised her cutie mark. Of all the ponies here, she was his favourite, if for no other reason than that she was one of the few still alive.

He quickly moved on, finally having come to the end of the hallway, the corridor expanding into an open room. It could best be described as the closest thing the Society had to a reception area. This was also the only point where the other sections of the building could be accessed. A simple wooden staircase led to the basement where the different research projects, both by the Society members itself and members of their affiliated groups, were being carried out. Doors to the left led to the general infirmary where those associated with their organization could be treated if injured on most related ‘business’. To the right was the entrance way to the dining hall, which itself was connected to the sleeping quarters where most of the students in the Academy slept.

The reception area itself was sparsely furnished. There were a few vases of flowers within the all-white room. A few pieces of armor that had belonged to some of the most renowned fighters in Equestria were also on display, so meticulously polished and maintained that they looked ready to be worn at any moment as they did all those years ago. There were several windows in the room though they were blocked by thick blue drapes. Once, when he had been younger, he had dared to peek behind them. All he had seen were shifting shadows, writhing about wildly as though in pain, thrashing and banging about before the image turned to white as though covered with snow. He had been frozen in place, petrified at the haunting sight before he had started to shake uncontrollably. When he had finally turned around, he had found his Master staring at him. That had been the first time he had been punished.

In the center of the room was a single oaken desk, papers neatly stacked atop its surface. Behind it, seated on an unfortunate chair was Bitworth. He had the massive build of an earth pony and could have been mistaken for one if not for the short, stubby horn that barely protruded out from the large, ill-fitting red wig that he wore. Despite his size, which was unusual for a unicorn, what had once been rock hard muscle had melted down into fat as time and a great supply of rich food had taken its toll. His face had become droopy, flabs of fat hanging around his mouth in such a way that some of the braver souls and the younger students had taken to comparing him with a diamond dog. One of his eyes had become squinted and seemed to have become permanently fogged over though he never seemed to suffer from any sort of blind spot. To make matters worse, he had a nasty scar that ran horizontally from his ear to about an inch from his mouth. Well, he called it a scar, but it was as though somepony had simply dug out a chunk of flesh from the side of his face. Even after all this time that he had known Bitworth, it had remained red and inflamed, sometimes dripping unknown fluids while he continued his duties, seemingly oblivious to the wretched odour that would begin emanating from the wound, reeking of rotting fish and vomit to those that were unfortunate to stand before him. His girth had become so cumbersome that his stomach would have literally dragged on the plush carpet below his hooves as he waddled about his business. No doubt he would have eventually developed even more unsightly sores there if he had not decided to don a tight fitting cummerbund that constantly bulged and trembled with each breath the unicorn took.

Artecus trotted over to the desk, the trepidation in his stomach building, that nauseating feeling he would get whenever he had to come in contact with the older stallion coming back full force. It was not without cause. In his first days in the Society, Bitworth had taken a decidedly… unhealthy interest in the younger unicorn. He would always somehow manage to catch the unicorn alone, often pressing down on the frightened colt, whispering about all the things he would do to him, how he would make Artecus writhe and beg and plead for mercy, nipping him on the ear or flank whenever the opportunity presented itself. The colt would stand there, face burning in shame and humiliation at his words, wanting to do something, anything to contradict the older stallion yet afraid to speak out, terrified of being cast out just as he had been taken in. It was only until that incident occurred that he had finally been forced to stop, and even then he had still been allowed to continue his duties, still unrepentant for the trauma inflicted upon the younger stallion.

‘Now, young colt, you know well and good that it was your fault that happened. It’s your body that tempted him, therefore your responsibility,’ the Goodmare had scolded.

“See something you like, handsome?” With a jolt, he realized he had been lost in his own memories. The other unicorn winked at him with a lewd smile on his face. Artecus shuddered, feeling his lunch churn in his stomach.

“Not p-particularly.” He tried to put on a brave face for his tormentor, though the effect was partially ruined by the slight break in his voice as he quaked inside. Bitworth’s pleasant demeanour slipped for a moment, allowing the coldness in his eyes to shine through before he resumed what he probably considered his seductive look.

“Well now, that certainly is a shame. I would so love to get another chance to… discipline you.” He sighed softly, as though disappointed in missing a play instead of what he had just implied. “But I suppose that will have to wait. What do you want.” As had happened before, he switched moods almost seamlessly, going from flirty to professional in seconds. His eyes stilled roamed the slender unicorn’s body, raking over the silver mane that needed a trim, over to the greyish coat and down to the four blue stars that surrounded a quarter moon. Not for the first time, Artecus wished that his Master allowed him to teleport directly to his office.

“The Master has sent for me.” Better to be brief and get out of his sight. He levitated an envelope out of his saddlebags, the insignia of the Society prominent on the front. Bitworth took a brief glance and grunted once. His horn began to glow before the enchantment that blocked access to the higher levels fell.

He did not miss a moment, trotting past the desk and hurrying up the stairs, though not before he heard the repugnant servant mutter, “Guess I’m not the only one who likes ‘em young.” He increased his speed, face burning with shame and anger as the bawdy laughter chased him.

***

He sucked in a few deep breaths, the flight up the stairs and the subsequent walk to the other end of the floor having taken most of his energy. It was yet another reminder of how he had changed, having shed the quickness and agility needed to survive for the long hours necessary to be called the apprentice of one of the greatest ponies alive. It had been some time since he had felt the need to scurry away from danger; life on the streets had given way to a more ‘cultured’ upbringing as his Master had called it. He paused in front of the door for another few moments, ensuring that he looked as presentable as possible before pushing the door open and entering the room.

The first thing that one noticed was the large desk that occupied the middle of the room. It was hard not to, for it directly faced the door, allowing whoever sat behind it to immediately see who entered his abode. At both sides of the table were papers, scrolls, and folders in large stacks that cleared the desk in height and towered over it. There were some more sheets tacked onto the tower that seemed to indicate a certain order to the behemoth. Next to the stacks of paper were two boards filled with formulas, sketches, and jumbled words. Even now, Artecus could not make heads or tails out of them, and they seemed to change every time he visited, robbing him of the chance to study his Master’s work.

The oaken desk itself was devoid of most equipment one would usually think would be there. Only a Neighton’s cradle was there, along with several documents. Behind the desk, latched onto the wall was the insignia of the organization in the form of a giant shield – a blue background in which a golden hoof was crushing a green snake. The snake had its fangs embedded into the hoof, blood oozing out of the wound. Below the shield, the words ‘nemo me impune lacessit’ were written in black. He had once asked his Master what the words had meant, but he had only received a half smile in response.

To the left and right of the room were bookshelves, taking up the remaining space there. They were filled mostly with books, but there were some trinkets and artefacts interspersed among them. A few gems here, a few trinkets there, and a large seashell all played their part in giving the room some life. There was only one window in the room, covered by a dark grey curtain where the few cracks of sunshine that peeped through – aside from the chandelier above them – acting as the only source of light. A telescope resided to the side of window, ready to be used. There were also a few scrolls on the floor here as well: a few celestial maps, some scribbled notes, some blank sheets, quills and ink were all in a huddle, waiting until they needed to be called into action.

He approached the unicorn sitting on a simple wooden seat and bowed deeply, his head almost touching the carpeted floor. After an appropriate amount of time had passed, he rose and straightened himself. His Master’s eyes had never left the document in front of him. Artecus stood still, trying to remain as impassive as possible.

After a few moments had passed, the only sound being the shuffling of papers, his Master uttered a single word, his voice low yet commanding, “Sit.” He didn’t waste any time in following the order, hurrying yet ensuring that he took care not to damage the seat. According to his Master, it had been made in the immediate post-Nightmare Moon period and was worth a small fortune. Or as Bitworth had taken pleasure in informing him, it was worth his body several times over. He shifted around slightly, trying to get comfortable without calling attention to himself. Whoever had designed the seat had certainly not taken something like comfort into consideration. When he had asked the Master about it during a lesson, he had said that it was a reminder for those sitting on it that something valuable can also cause one no end of discomfort. He had then made him sit on the floor for speaking out of turn.

The Archmage sighed, a long, drawn out thing that seemed to drain him of all his seriousness and intimidating aura. Just for a moment, Artecus could imagine him as merely a tired, aged unicorn, probably waiting for his grandfoals to visit him. But that was only for a moment. He was back to his usual self, a pillar of strength though not one anypony could safely rely on. The Master simply did not allow it.

He shifted a few more papers in his hooves for a while before placing all but two back into his desk drawers, though he turned them over in such a way that you could not see its contents. He levitated the spectacles off of his wrinkled, grey face, turning his piercing blue eyes over to his apprentice. Artecus remained stoic, concentrating on breathing steadily, ignoring his pounding heart and the numerous possibilities of what he could have done wrong to warrant such a hasty summons running through his mind.

Ho ho ho, back to the streets this time, poppet? Or maybe back to the Madame? He could almost hear the sneer behind the fake warmth of the Earl’s voice. Maybe she’ll give you to that wonderful gentlecolt, that businesspony that made you call him daddy. Oh, how he loved that, and you loved it too, didn’t you, you naughty little colt.

Sick. Disgusting. Wretched. Pathetic. Scallywag didn’t waste any time in jumping in with her shrill voice.

No no no! You’re all wrong! You’re all wrong. The Master said he wouldn’t, and I believe in him. He took a few deep breaths, releasing them slowly, allowing the calm and repetitive nature of the exercise to soothe his mind and stifle the voices. He refocused on the Archmage, who was still quietly observing him.

“Do you know why I have summoned you here today?” If the Master had any idea of the turmoil running through his student’s mind, he gave no indication of it. He had heard rumours of the Archmage being able to read ponies’ minds just by catching their gaze. One look and all your memories were in his hooves, all for him to use for his amusement if he wished to. Though he had never asked his Master about it, it had once frightened him that somepony could be so powerful as to root through his mind. It was only later that he had accepted that, compared to his Master, the mages and scientists he worked with daily, he would be insignificant, unimportant to somepony as him.

“No, sir. I only received your letter.” He quickly opened his saddlebags and retrieved the letter once again, levitating it over to the old unicorn. The Archmage’s eyes briefly flickered over it before tucking it into the drawer as well.

“And that is all you know?” Artecus nodded cautiously. “Good, good. I would be surprised if you knew more.” To his surprise, the Archmage began to chuckle hoarsely, his mirth turning into a slight cough at the end. He looked up to Artecus almost expectantly.

Caught unawares by the strange behaviour, he stammered, “Y-Yes sir?” The Archmage’s smile fell slightly as did Artecus’ heart. It was a rare occasion that he saw his teacher smiling like that, and it was his fault that it was disappearing. Before his panic could rise, however, his teacher raised a hoof to pre-empt anything he was going to say, still looking slightly happy.

“It was simply a joke, colt.” Now his fright rapidly gave way to shock. His Master joking? He had seen him thoughtful, disinterested, impatient, and anger that gave way to livid fury on more than one occasion. The way the elder stallion was acting right now, however, a small smile still visible amongst the wrinkles in his face, was almost downright giddy.

“Oh… Of course, sir.” He chuckled weakly as well. Who could blame him? His Master merely rolled his eyes and snorted. “Sir… Is everything… alright?” He had to be cautious for one never knew when the Archmage’s mood would suddenly shift.

“Everything is good, colt. In fact, everything is more than good.” His jovial façade dissipated, and he adopted his usual serious look. “I have received some information that, if proven accurate, will cement my very legacy here in the Society.”

“I-I think you’ve already done that, sir.” Artecus fidgeted uncomfortably in his seat at the piercing look he received.

“Your words are appreciated, my student. However, if we secure this acquisition, not only I, but the Society as a whole will be on the tongues of every creature on this planet. Those charlatans at the Royal Guild will be finally forced to acknowledge that we are the superior organization.” There was a biting tone as he spoke the name of their closest rival. “No matter what they may say about us, all the lies, the propaganda, we will prove once and for all that it is our methods that produce the best results. No matter what the cost, the benefit of all comes before the cost of a few.” In that moment, the Archmage looked so grim as he finished uttering his personal motto, his jaws clenched and eyes narrowed, that he reminded Artecus of the first time he had seen a griffon, stalking down the streets, the glint in his eyes marking him as a predator. Thankfully, the look on his Master’s face soon passed, and the old unicorn relaxed into his own seat. “However, we will have to wait until a few others arrive before discussing it further. In the meantime, tell me: how has living with the Smallhammer clan been treating you? Have they given you any trouble?”

The younger unicorn’s ears perked up at the question. It was a rare occasion when his teacher enquired about his life outside these walls. However, he did not miss the underlying question beneath the seemingly harmless one, and hastened to reply, “Yes, they have been kind to me.” It wasn’t a lie, though at the time of him meeting the family, he had been ready to flee.

“Hmph, that is good to hear.” The Archmage gave a short, approving nod. Artecus remembered the first family he had been sent to stay with; how the main stallion had gotten increasingly agitated with his presence. To this day he had no idea why. None of the mares there had shown the slightest interest in him, and he had been too young and too scared to even think about that. He had been bullied for weeks by the earth pony, smacking the colt in the muzzle or punching him in the stomach any time his mares weren’t watching. He had used the threat of sending him back to the streets to keep him quiet. Oh how Scallywag had revelled in the beatings, cackling and egging the stallion on in that exaggerated cockney accent of hers that he had come to despise. He could only endure so much before he had finally broken down and confessed to his mentor. The Archmage had said nothing while the young colt tearfully recalled the torture. The next day, he had went to the house, only to find it completely deserted. The Master had refused to tell him what had happened to the family, though some of the other students in the Academy had whispered all sorts of rumours from the Archmage turning them all into frogs to selling them to griffon traders to incinerating them with just a look.

His wandering thoughts were interrupted as a soft knock sounded on the door before somepony opened it. His Master’s assistant, Violet Melody stepped through the doorway. Despite her name, she was a blue unicorn, her mane a mix of black with silver highlights that was neatly tied into a bun. Artecus smiled as she approached, with the mare returning the greeting. She was one of the few ponies here who did not care about who he was. After all, being the Archmage’s assistant was a position akin to that of being his student; a prestigious position that sacrificed any semblance of normalcy. It also helped that she was very pretty, though Artecus had never mustered the courage to do anything about it.

“The guests have arrived, sir.” Her warm voice seemed to clash with the sombre nature of the office, but that was fine for him.

“Hmmm. Send them in.” He nodded to her once, dismissing her silently. She quickly left, closing the door with a click. “Come stand at my side.” Startled, he turned around to face the Archmage. “You are my student. It is time for certain ponies to see you as such.” He scrambled to his hooves and made to move next to his teacher. “Just move them aside.” The Master nodded to his whiteboards with a resigned look as Artecus nervously levitated them further away and came to stand next to him.

They spent the next few minutes silently, him fidgeting slightly while the Archmage folded his forehooves, maintaining his neutral expression. It wasn’t long before Violet knocked and trotted in again. In strode three other unicorns, not sparing a glance at Melody as she left the room, closing the door behind her again.

The first one Artecus recognized was Professor Beaker. His eyes were usually concealed beneath a thick pair of goggles, while his once green fur was covered by a layer of soot and his grimy lab coat. His bright orange mane seemed to clash horribly with the rest of his fur, and Artecus wondered if it was his natural colour or the result of some freak accident from an experiment he had been conducting. The few times he had seen the professor, he had always been missing large clumps of fur in his coat which looked like it had been singed. He had never had much to do with the professor. He had always been distracted, often muttering gibberish, though his workers that constantly surrounded him always nodded and made sounds of agreement like he made sense. As far as Artecus was concerned, the professor had never raised his hoof against him, so he was in his good books.

Next to him was Lina Marin. It was rare for a unicorn to be so proficient in agriculture, working with herbs and plants. The fact that she had her own research department dominated by earth ponies was almost unheard of. Her very light brown fur was accentuated by a mossy green streak that ran through her mane and down her back. Some worn saddlebags were attached to her sides as she perused the book levitating in front of her. She barely glanced at him with her bright blue eyes before returning her attention to her reading. A red vial with two green bubbles made up her cutie mark. He had heard whispers about how she spent her time concocting all kinds of dangerous poisons and toxins, so much so that her department experienced an almost permanent high turnover of staff due to being exposed to her ‘experiments’. He shuddered to think of what could have led to her gaining such a cutie mark. He was just happy that her labs were located deep in the underground sections of the building, so that they did not come face to face often.

It was the third pony who caught his interest though. He moved slowly as though pondering every step he took. He was old, about the same age as his Master, he guessed, from the lines and wrinkles that featured prominently on his face. Perhaps the most interesting feature was the bandages that were wrapped around his left eye and going around his entire head. Another was wrapped around his two forehooves. A greyish robe blanketed most of his body, concealing his cutie mark from sight. Artecus gulped slightly as the elder stallion lowered himself slowly into the seat he had previously occupied, the two other ponies coming to stand at the side.

Yersinia Filaria. It was an odd name for a pony, but this stallion was anything but normal. He was prominently featured in the Academy textbooks of the younger recruits, his accomplishments there for all to see. He was one of the few ponies still alive who had their portraits in the corridor. Tales of his exploits were well known to those in the Society and outsiders, though Artecus was certain these stories had received their fair share of embellishments over the years. After all, nopony could have stopped an entire griffon raiding party all on his own fifty years ago, could he? Another popular rumour was that Yersinia and his Master had both contested the leadership of the Society, but his Master had come out on top.

“Well, Runic? Was it really so urgent that you needed to see me personally?” Unlike his Master’s voice, so smooth and enchanting yet commanding and strict when it needed to be, his sounded tired and weary as though he wanted nothing more than to crawl back to bed. Most stallions his age would probably be in the same position, though Artecus immediately berated himself for thinking that.

“Perhaps not.” His Master inclined his head towards his colleague. “I merely thought that you would like to see this for yourself.” Out slid a single photograph, levitated to eye level in front of Yersinia. The two ponies at his side studied it carefully as well, confusion and interest the most prominent emotion on their faces. The frown on Yersinia’s face grew deeper, the wrinkles on his lined face becoming even more prominent. After a few moments of quiet contemplation, Yersinia levitated it back to Runic, allowing Artecus a glimpse of what was on the photo. It was a creature he had never seen before; it walked on two legs like a minotaur, but lacked the horns, hooves, or body mass. In fact, much of the body was covered in clothes. Its eye seemed almost comically tiny, making him wonder if they were fully functional, or if it compensated with its other senses. The creature was facing slightly sideways, a frown on its face. Its hind hooves were blocked by what looked to be the manes of other ponies, though he could not recognize any of them.

“Someone’s exotic pet?” Yersinia’s voice was slow and measured, not giving any of his inner thoughts away.

“At first I believed so as well. However, there are no records of this creature having ever existed. According to my sources in Canterlot, it is a sapient creature and was escorted by the Royal Guard themselves to see the princesses personally.” If he had been slower, he would have missed the sneer that overcame Yersinia’s face.

“Then where did such a creature come from?”

“There is only one place near Canterlot that would explain why we haven’t seen or heard of this creature before.”

“Do you really believe Celestia would treat with a creature from that place?” Yersinia raised an eyebrow in faint surprise.

“If it was submissive and civilized enough,” Runic offered.

“Still, why should we concern ourselves with this? I doubt the creature was part of some ancient empire filled with treasure from years gone by. It has nothing to offer us.”

At that, the Archmage smiled widely, seeming pleased at the dismissive words. “Because, old friend, what if I were to tell you that this is no ordinary creature, that this is a creature from beyond the stars?” The two other unicorns stared at him in shock though no discernable emotion crossed Yersinia’s face.

“I would say that it is time you begin abstaining from putting that herb in your pipe,” he replied bluntly.

The smile on Runic’s face remained though the skin around his eyes tightened. “An alien, Yersinia. Apparently, there was a crash that occurred near Canterlot. If its craft is still intact, if we can… persuade this being to join our cause, I dare say that this organization will finally be able to put our names on the map and cast the Royal Guild into obscurity.”

Yersinia, however, seemed to be reluctant to share his leader’s enthusiasm. “If this is all true, how is it that there haven’t been any reports from other sources. I would imagine that there would be much intrigue amongst the Canterlot citizenry.”

“I have it on good word that Celestia has ‘requested’ that all news agencies refrain from publishing any information, rumour or not, until the Palace has put out an official release.”

“And what of those who saw it in public. That photo was clearly taken outdoors. Surely there were some who interacted with the creature?”

The Archmage shook his head. “None that we were able to talk to. Say what you want about the Canterlot nobility, if they know anything at all, it’s to not bite the hooves that feed them. We were unable to speak with their help for long as it would have only raised suspicion. While there were several working ponies who admitted to spotting the creature, unbelievable as it is, they only showed an initial interest in the creature, but were apparently reassured by the presence of the Royal Guard. “

“Well, is there anything else we know?” This time, a note of exasperation entered Yersinia’s voice.

“At this time, no. I have several ponies trying to gather whatever data they can, but we have scant information at this time. What I propose to do is to send out a standard three pony team to Canterlot, where they can dedicate their full resources to establishing what the creature is, where it is located, and after a period of observation, try to retrieve whatever data we can. Beaker, Marin. I trust that you can supply a member each from your departments?” Both unicorns hastened to nod. “Yersinia?”

After a few moments of silence, the other elderly unicorn nodded though more reluctantly than the other two. “I will select a mage to send personally.”

The Archmage allowed a small smile to shine through. “Thank you for your time.” He waited impassively as they trudged out of the office, Yersinia pausing slightly before closing the door with a click.

“Sir?” he said hesitantly. “Is that… really an alien?”

“Yes, I believe so. We won’t know for sure until we are able to study it further for ourselves. However, that is not why I called you here, not why I asked you to stand by my side. Well, not directly,” he amended. “You will also have your part to play in this endeavour.”

Artecus stiffened and stood at attention, his heart warming at his Master’s words. “I am ready and willing to serve in any way I can, sir.”

Runic smiled briefly. “I know, which is why you will be carrying out a separate task for me. You see, I was not lying when I said that the creature would be somewhere around the Everfree Forest. However, I may have failed to mention that I have a very good idea as to where the creature might be.” He chuckled again to himself.

“And that is, sir?”

“What they don’t know is that my sources have indicated that the creature was accompanied by a certain group of ponies known as the Bearers of the Elements of Harmony. While it is difficult to obtain information on them from official sources, I do know that they live in a rundown village called Ponyville.”

“Sir, if I may ask,” he began hesitantly, hoping his Master’s rare good mood would forgive his impetuousness, “Why did you not tell the others as well?”

His Master pondered the question. “We all have our agendas, colt. You will aid me in fulfilling mine. By giving them enough information, they will sate their own curiosity while avoiding any conflict that could have arisen from keeping them in the dark. Yersinia’s methods are also not suited to retrieving something alive. Allowing them to send a member from their departments will also give them the impression that there was nothing to hide. I know that whichever pony they send will no doubt be reporting to them as well, running the risk that whatever information I receive will be altered. The team will be sent to Canterlot, where they will begin the investigation from scratch.

He turned towards his young protégé. “As for you, my faithful student, you will be going on a journey of your own. I hear Ponyville is quite pleasant this time of the year.”

***

Steve passed his hand over his hair, making it appear even more dishevelled as it had previously been as he stepped outside the doors of Sugarcube Corner, allowing the door to close shut with a dull thud. He squinted, finding the sudden intrusion of the late afternoon sunshine a bit too much for him at that moment. Still, it was nothing compared to the assault by this morning’s sun and was better than the reception he had received after he had awoken a second time.

He had been relieved to see the room empty – no Pinkie Pie, no alligators, and no fainting ponies. It wasn’t as though he should have been surprised; Pinkie had told him to go back to bed while she had helped to carry the unconscious pony out of the room. He could still remember the looks they had given him when he had walked down into the bakery. The yellow stallion in particular had acted as though he was about to announce a holdup. It was a look that, he realized as he had looked around the room, was on display on most of the ponies’ faces. The usual array of emotions was there: the fearful countenance and folded ears, some staring at him openly, almost defiantly. Others avoided his gaze and whispered hurriedly to their companions. There were those that even seemed disinterested in him, sparing a cursory initial glance before returning to their meals. One mare in particular had been animated, talking loudly while wobbling on her seat in a manner that reminded him of… himself last night. Shaking his head, he had chosen to ignore the looks and leave, not seeing Pinkie Pie anywhere. He felt somewhat guilty about leaving without telling her, but he wasn’t sure how much more Pinkie Pie he could handle in a single day. An overdose of Pinkie would probably have seriously adverse health effects if exposed to her for too long, he had joked to himself.

Now here he was, looking around at his surroundings outside the bakery, unsure of what to do. Once again he was reminded of how he had almost always been accompanied by one of the ponies whenever he was out of the ship. It was as though he couldn’t help himself anymore. Shaking the errant thought away, he began wandering down the streets randomly, ignoring the looks he was receiving. As long as none of them felt the need to blast him with a spell or anything of the sort, he could tolerate the stares.

He walked for a while, trying to clear his mind, watching the ponies as he milled around. He stopped and looked at a few store displays on more than one occasion, but he did not go inside, not having any money on him. Though he was loathe to admit it, the memory of the last time he was in one had not gone too well, and that was when he had companions.

He tried to find Twilight’s house, but he was unsure as to where it was from his position. By the time he had gotten back on track, it had taken him over to the other side of the Ponyville. He still wasn’t sure if he wanted to meet her after all. Knowing he was sober would give her the chance of berating him for his behaviour last night, of that he had no doubt. Besides, she had won their little bet, and he wasn’t so eager as to let her cash it in so quickly. He wasn’t sure where Rarity lived, but he was certain he wasn’t quite ready to face the fashionista’s… unique quirks on her home turf. Besides, he reasoned, I doubt she’s the type who would allow people to just casually drop in for a visit. They would probably have to receive an engraved invitation beforehand so she could lay out the best silverware and what not. He didn’t even know where Rainbow Dash lived, or if she was in any condition to receive visitors. Plus, he wasn’t sure how badly she would take her defeat. She had been worse off than him after all. The same went for Derpy, the Mayor, and Cheerilee. He didn’t feel comfortable seeking them out. They might be busy doing their jobs, he reasoned.

A sudden call interrupted his brooding, snapping him into awareness of his surroundings. “Ice cream! Get your ice cream cones here!” A deep blue stallion was pushing his cart along the road, calling out to potential customers. His fur was extremely thick, reminding him somewhat of a German Shepherd. “Oh, hello there, sir! Would you be interested in an ice cream cone?” Steve pointed to himself, confused. “Yes, you.”

“Err, sorry. I don’t have any money. I don’t think you accept dollars, do you?”

“Ah well, too bad. Ice cream, get yer ice cream cones here!” Steve watched the stallion as he went off a bit before he was mobbed by a group of young ponies.

Guess the lure of a sale can overcome all fears. Heh, I’m willing to bet he’ll tell his grandkids how he fought a fearsome alien with nothing but an ice cream cone and still won. He chuckled at the ridiculous thought and continued walking.

After a while, the road seemed to lead him into what appeared to be some sort of open market. There were stalls lining both sides of the road, and he spotted several wagons full of stock as well. It seemed that each stall only had one type of product, be it eggplants, carrots, cucumbers, tomatoes, or corn among many others, taking note of them as they were yet another similarity to the products back home. He took a deep breath, taking in the smell of the fresh produce. It had been a long time since he had seen a sight like this up close and personal. It also seemed as though prices were flexible, shifting around to adjust based on their popularity and the specific customer. Peaches seemed to be the most expensive thing for sale, while eggplants and tomatoes were cheap.

Farmers called out to entice customers, singing the praises of their fruits and vegetables. He turned as he heard a familiar voice. “Get yer apples here! The best apples in Ponyville! We got all kinds: Red Delicious, Gaias, Honeycrisps and so much more! I know it, ya’ll know it, so step right up!” He followed the voice and soon spotted Applejack standing in front of a wooden wagon laden with her family’s namesake. She was smiling brightly, holding a few apples in her hooves, trying to lure in customers. Sure enough, there were a few more ponies that stopped to buy, earning them a tip of her hat as they left.

“Hey, Applejack!” he called to gain her attention as she slid the coins into her saddlebags, walking up to her cart.

She spun around at the calling of her name before her face relaxed into an easy-going smile. “Well howdy there, Steve. Glad to see yer up and about. Wasn’t sure you’d be walkin’ from the way you were last night.” They both chuckled, Applejack’s good-natured and his more rueful.

“Heh, yeah. Wasn’t sure I’d be here the way I was feeling this morning..”

“That’s why the Apple family’s cider is fer special occasions only. Can’t have ponies drinking their days away now.” A shadow seemed to pass over her face before she smiled again.

“Oh believe me, I don’t think I’ll be doing that again in a while.” Applejack nodded approvingly. “I was just wondering what to do now. Not that I expect you to drop everything; I know you have to sell your apples and what not.”

“Aw, there’s lots of stuff you can do ‘round these parts. You could always go visit Rarity. I’d bet she’d like ta talk with you since yer always wearing them clothes of yours.” She cast a critical eye over him. “At least they ain’t frou frou like hers,” she muttered. “Or you can go visit Twilight; I’m sure she’d like ta see you again.”

“That’s kind of what I’m afraid of.” He chuckled nervously.

“Don’t you fret none, partner. Twi can be excitable some, but she don’t mean no harm.” She scratched her chin thoughtfully. “Though come to think of it, I haven’t seen neither hide nor hair of that mare today. Same with Rainbow Dash too. Pinkie came by to buy some apples; said she was gonna make some sort of new… err… recipe….” She trailed off, looking uneasily at him suddenly, her eyes darting from his form to behind him. She sighed to herself softly. “Can you come with me fer a minute there, Sugarcube?”

“Uh, sure, I guess.” He followed her around to the back of the wagon, confused at her sudden change in demeanour.

“Listen, Sugarcube, I don’t want you to take this the wrong way, but… you think you can stop by a little later instead?” She shot him an apologetic look before averting her eyes, kicking the dirt with a hoof. “There’s ponies waiting to buy apples, but… they’re still afraid of you, I reckon. I just got to feed mah family. You understand, right?”

He looked to the front of the wagon and did understand. Several ponies were waiting there hesitantly, keeping a good distance away from the cart. They also averted their gaze when they saw him looking. “Oh…. yeah… I guess I’ll be going then.”

“You can stop by the farm later if ya want,” she said hesitantly, a hopeful look in her eyes. He had to look away.

“No… I think I’ll go back to the ship now. Just remembered I had some… stuff to do. See you, Applejack,” he said quietly, waving at her and walking off without another word.

He didn’t turn around to see their faces, but he wasn’t able to leave the area before he heard some pony saying, “Goodness, Applejack, I didn’t think the creature would come here!”

“Yeah, uh… I mean—“ That was all he heard as he finally went out of hearing range as he marched on to the town’s exit, the blood pounding in his ears, shivering as a frigid wind swirled around him in defiance of the bright afternoon sunshine.

Author's Note:

JBL : Well, it’s this story’s one year anniversary! (To hell with your timezone, Gron!) Really didn’t think I would end up as co-writer when I first started reading, but shit happens. With nearly 250 upvotes and 300 favorites, I think we’re going along steadily. Know what would make an excellent anniversary present, dear readers? If you’ve favorited the story, give it an upvote too. Of course, you could give it an upvote all on it’s own!

This chapter is chock full of references. Let’s see who can identify any. Who is Artecus? Hell if I know. This was supposed to be just one segment of the chapter, but before I knew it, I had already written out his history, mannerisms, etc. Even had to cut some of his stuff.

Also, we have art! Holy crap! Huh, and Gron rejected mine, claimed it would scar the readers’ minds. Here it is:

I think we can all agree that I came in a very close second.

Yes, we all agree on that. So... this story has now a cover art! Yay!
Drawn by this guy. truekry

For more details about the anniversary look at my latest blog post.

I hope you have all enjoyed it so far and it will stay like that in the future.

Amazing proofreading was presented by: Tofty

While you are waiting for the next chapter, I'd recommend reading this story in the meantime:
Journey

Comments

[Spacecowboy]

Time will tell if I hate or like this newest development. My initial reaction was one of 'ehhh' because it seemed to be a setup of the 'shady fuckers' cliche as I like to refer to it as, where they objectify everything and only care about themselves.

Was hoping for some more focus on Steve this chapter, to be honest.

[Gron]

4139725 Well, they are not a shady organisation as much as you would think if you'd hear it for the first time. It is not some villain in charge who wants to take over the world, so like the usual setup of a James Bond movie, they just prefer to be out of Celestia's reach since they feel she is controlling them too much.
I understand that they might seem very shady at first, but further developments will give a clearer image.

Next chapter will be about Steve again, no worries.

[Lupus]

The puns...they hurt

I wonder if Steve would be more receptive to the academy ponies if they treat him better than...well everyone else except the six. Would make for an interesting development if he went with the willingly

[Silverweed]

The first part of this chapter - something like that dark, foreboding, mystical magic academy just has to appear sooner or later in a (more or less) high-fantasy-setting - I just couldn't get this song out of my head: Sorry in advance, it's in german

Well, I think if they have something to offer for Steve that will peek his interesst.

Ah, yes, of cours happy anniversary. May you continue to entertain us readers with more words in the future

As always, good chapter.
read you next installment

[Regreme]

:( Sorry to see the Ponyvillians acting like that. I figured Applejack would at least try and tell her customers good details about him to ease their worries instead of that last bit.

Still think that news pony would try and get all the details first too.... but now.... now.... >: ) You have that new organization in the mix to act as a potential villain group, eh?^_^ Things are getting tense already. XD

[JBL]

Woohoo, crossed the 250 upvote and 300 fav mark!

4139920 What puns you speak of, hmmm?

4140438 I've written it with the perspective that the Mane Six might be influential ponies, but they can't force other ponies to like/trust someone just because they said so.

4139983 Thank ya kindly.

[Regreme]

4141111 Understandable.^^

[Zanec]

Generic story is generic.

[ReaperManX15]

The whole thing with the scientists.
Well, there doesn't have to be an antagonist.
If can just be about Steve adapting to pony society.
It's still good, but the scientists just fell a little ... tacked on.

[SmokeTheFilter]

After reading the furst half of the chapter, anyone else feel like they were reading Dune suddenly?

[Wacky]

4142536 Actually there does have to be an Antagonist. You just don't need a villain. (Antagonists can be anything from nature, an idea, or the Protagonist themselves.). The only place that wouldn't hold true is like in a Dr. Seuss book

4139873 But the "mysterious, shadowy figures" do come off as villainess with all the undermining and unscrupulous behavior. I don't feel like they have anyone's best interest at heart.

[Robokirby]

JBL I liked your picture very much! Looked luke something I could draw. When you are done writing pony fiction, don't hesitate to contact me. We could make the most amazing pictures together and we could conquer the world.

I also liked this chapter very much :|

[JBL]

4153775
Hey JBL, what do you want to do tonight?

The same thing we do every night, Robo... TRY TO TAKE OVER THE WORLD!!

[shirotora]

Of all the ponies here, she was his favourite, if for no other reason than that she was still alive.

This line makes it seem as if she's the only one still alive, but then you have this;

He was one of the few ponies still alive who had their portraits in the corridor.

Kinda confused me for a moment. Anyway, good chapter. I'm guessing this "Master" is a antagonist (not necessarily a bad guy, but a source of conflict). I can't wait to see where this is going.

[truekry]

4154587

Shame on you! Wrong Video -.-

[JBL]

4201728 ....................................Wow

[Lazy_]

Your artwork... so beautiful...

[JBL]

4779719 Thank you.

[Silentwoodfire]

Detrot sounds like a place that everypony knows about and at the same time tries REALLY hard to forget.

If the Princesses ever went there the guards were probably paid off to ensure they never saw anything.

I wonder what Luna would say if she saw it though.....