strange things
I've found a lot of strange things in Canterlot over the years, it’s a bit of a hobby. It's karmic balance for being one of those strange thing. The pony capitale is an odd place to be for a zebra .
One these stories began when I wandered into a fabric shop at the Canterlot bazaar. An out of place unicorn held an entire bolt of dark fabric in his magic. His tweed jacket with leather patches marked him as belonging to the university. Glasses, a few quills, and a slide rule protruding from a pocket completed the uniform.
“Morning mister Hooves,” I greeted the merchant.
The earth-pony mercer left the unicorn for a moment to greet me. “Morning Mis, haven't seen you in a while. Looking for anything?
“You know me, just shopping.” I answered, walking over to see what the unicorn was looking at.
Pulling a length from the bolt he gave it a slight tug; ripping the material like paper. It was old, dry, and dyed so poorly that it was burned by the process.
“This is garbage,” he said to the mercer. “I ask for seconds, not garbage”
The mercer shrugged. “I don’t see why you care. The price is good. You tell me it’s not for clothing.”
“It has to be strong, that’s why I’m wanting silk. I don’t care if it’s zebra print, it just has to be strong...” His words faded just as he saw me. “Sorry,” he mumbled, blushing and looking back at the fabric.
“It’s not a look everypony can pull off,” I said with a smile. Deciding to tease him a bit, I stood a little closer than necessary to examine the bolt he held. “Yep, that’s garbage,” I agreed. Looking over the mercer’s head I pointed to the back of the store. “I think he would like that balloon silk that you’ve had stinking in the back of your shop for the last year.
“Balloon silk? That sounds like the trick,” the unicorn said, squinting at the bolt in the far corner of the shop.
“The gray stuff?” the mercer asked. “You don’t what that Professor, it smells like wet dog.” He frowned and looked back at the bolt. “Don’t know what happened to it.”
“Professor is it?” I asked with my best devil's grin. Ponies are fun to mess with.
“Um, yes,” he stammered. Forcing himself to look away from me, he focused on the merchant. “Is it strong? let me see it.”
“So what are you making?” I asked while mister Hooves fetched the bolt..
A spark lit up his eyes at my question, and his face took a coltish expression. “It’s a secret.” he sang. “I can’t tell you”
The tone of his voice begged my to play along. “You can’t tell me?” I pouted.
“Nope.” he chirped, trying to look coy. Now he was just flirting with me, but he was cute; in that dorky way unicorns are famous for.
Tuning up the curious filly look, I laid it on just as thick as he was. “Aww, come on...”
“Ya really want to know?” he asked.
My little game had taken a life of it’s own at this point, so I decided to just see how far it would take me; I really was curious. “MmmHmm,” I answered.
“Well, I still can’t tell you,” he answered bluntly. I thought I had met my match for a moment, before a smirk cracked his stoic expression. “But I’ll show you.”
Looks like I had a date. “Normally I like to be taken to dinner before I follow a stallion home, but I’ll make an acception.”
Mr Hooves dropped the new bolt on the counter, prompting the professor to examine it. He gave the silk a hard tug, and ran his magic over it before nodding. “How much?” he asked the mercer.
“If you get that out of here, twenty bits for the whole bolt,” the mercer told him.
“Deal.” the professor said, laying the bits on the table and hefting the bolt with his magic. Giving me a little smile he gestured towards the door. “You’re about to see something historic.”
A dirty joke ran through my mind, but I held my tongue. “Professor of what?” I asked instead; following him outside the shop.
“Fluid dynamics,” he said. “I study how fluids behave: liquids and gasses both”
“Oh.”
“You sound disappointed. Expecting me to be a doctor of time travel, or seaponies?”
“No, I’ve met them already.” I said flatly. He paused a moment to look back at me with a raised eyebrow. “What?” I said to his unvoiced question.
“You’re not going to elaborate on that are you?” he asked.
“Not till you impress me.” I said coyly.
He smirked, but held his tongue.
It occurred to me that I had not introduced myself. “I’m Katalena.”
“Professor Wing Wright,” he answered back.
Looking at the horn on his head. “Sounds like a pegasus name,” I said.
He laughed with a bright outburst at my observation. “I’ll keep that in mind”
After a short walk, we were on the edge of Canterlot, walking past the terraced houses that clung to the side of the mountain. One house caught my attention over the others. Not content with being merely on the slope of the mountain, it hung over a sheer cliff. Sticking out from the stone like a bookshelf, only a small portion rested on the street-side slope, and it was here that we stoped. “Professor has some bits,” I thought. Pushing the door open he waved me in, following with the bolt still in levitation.
It was one of those new buildings, that they made to look old; classical architecture, but modern materials. The sparse, utilitarian furnishings screamed bachelor. Through the spartan kitchen and down a stairway we entered a pitch-black room. Even before he turned the light on, I knew it was huge.
With a woosh of magic, lamps flared along the wall, revealing a basement workshop. Contraptions and tools littered the walls. In the center of the room a massive device stretched out, looking like a monster’s skeleton, but made of wood and metal, not bone. “What is that?” I asked. Whatever it was, it was what I had been looking for; something strange.
Placing the bolt on a rack, he looked at me with a grin. “What’s it look like?” he asked. Seeing my hesitation to enter the fray of his workspace he motioned me to come all the way in. “Come on, look as close as you want. It’s not that delicate.”
Careful not to step on anything, I ventured into the lab and approached the construct. “It looks, like a bat.” I said. The gangly skeletal arms left little else for it to resemble.
“Ornithopter,” he replied. “But, I’ll give you half credit.” A little clockwork bat was levitated in front of me. “Just like the toys you’ve probably seen,”
I took the toy in my hooves. Indeed I had a few of these in my curio shop, they were a popular gift for young colts. Looking up I saw him commanding the gray silk with his magic, draping it over a skeletal wing. With a tweak of his magic the material wrapped around the form and stitched itself tight to the wooden limbs. Moments later the other wing received the same treatment. It was now, a very large ornithopter.
“Why make one so big?” I asked.
Grinning ear to ear, climbed on top of the ornithopter’s body, and slipped into a compartment I had not noticed. “Any smaller and I couldn’t ride in it.”
I blinked. Well this wins the strange award for the week. Nothing I can take back to my store, but a great story. “But how will you ever get this out of here?” I asked.
A flash of magic and the grinding of machinery sounded from somewhere unseen. The whole back wall revealed itself to be a door that lowered; revealing a sheer drop of hundreds of meters.
More machinery whirled to life, this time inside the ornithopter. “Meet me at the park, and I’ll take you on that dinner,” he yelled over the noise.
The machine’s wings moved in lazy flaps, just enough to set its wheels in motion. I watched in silent horror as it built up to a gallop’s pace before the wheels ran out of floor and device, unicorn and all, plunged over the edge. The wings, now furious, beat echoed into the shop. Running to the edge I looked down the mountain to see the professor’s fate.