Celestia's long forgotten ideal becomes one pony's floating nightmare...
When Thunder Streak had agreed to rescue the young mare, he had no idea what kind of task he was embarking on. Now, he faces radical zealots, maniacal madponies, and a prophet of the Sun and Moon in an attempt to save a pony that can do the impossible.
"Thunder. Are you afraid of the Holies?" "No. I'm afraid of you."
-500th Year of Celestia- -Fields East of Cloudsdale-
The rattle of the carriage shook under his feet, the expanse of the grasslands around him making uneasiness well up. He glanced out to the pair of ponies harnassed to the cart.
"Would you please help?" A male voice piped up.
"What am I doing right now?" A female voice
"You're not pulling. You expect me to shoulder all of the burden?." Her horn suddenly glowed in a pale pink shimmer, wrapping around a box. "No... But, I do expect you to do most of the pulling."
The box landed in front of the bewildered cart resident, the camping supplies and food having been the only one that he was with. The lid held a plaque, engraved by fire and magic.
"And why is that, exactly?" The male spoke up again, the strain in his voice making it appearance.
"What is this?" Came the voice of the cart's occupant, a hoof pointing at the box.
It seemed his words fell on deaf ears. "I do not approve of the exersice. You know that?"
"What?" The male piped up again. "The pulling?"
"No. The entire thought experiment. This was all your idea."
The cart's rider had stopped listening to the bickering pair, instead now looking over the box of items in front of him. It yielded a few items. A notecard, with a symbol of a beam with a number three by it, and a dark shaded beam with a two by it. He shook his head, looking over each other item. More pictures, one of a large statue like figure of an alicorn, though not one Thunder knew of, another of a young mare, the back of the picture inscribed with "Return To Manehattan Unharmed" on it, and a series of numbers that lead to the city. The box also yielded a large iron key, and several oddly minted bits, these were struck in a more sliver color instead of the gold ones he was used to seeing. The last item made him smile. A simple mouth held pistol.
"One goes into an experiment knowing it could fail." The male voice had become much more deep and authoritative.
The female's had not lost a bit of playfulness. "But, one does not go into it knowing that it HAS failed."
"Can we please get back to the pulling?" The male asked, the yolk on his back creaking as Thunder loaded the pistol into a holster on his flanks.
"Please, or this will take all day to get to." Her reply was met with loading of the box into a saddle bag.
"No, I mean the idea of you assisting." He sighed.
"Good thing to you it is just an idea," she laughed.
Thunder shook his head, and looked up. A large structure suddenly appeared through the ethereal haze that blanketed the vast grasslands. It rose up into the cloudbanks, piercing the blanket above, but the rhythmic sound of a bell told all he needed.
"We're here, Mister Streak." The female voice called out.
His hooves touched grass for what seemed like the first time in ages. He had been quick to protest, telling the odd pair of ponies that he could have easily flown to the location. The male had insisted on seeing him to the destination, however. Pale blue eyes glanced up the tower, the monolith standing as some kind of grave marker to a city that time had claimed before anyone knew of it. Thunder glanced around, wondering if anything of the city had survived, only to catch the pair bringing the cart around.
"Should we tell him when someone's coming back for him?" The female voice piped up.
"Would it matter?" The male sighed.
"It would offer some comfort."
"Hey!" Thunder called back to them. "Is someone going to come for me here?"
"I certainly hope so." The female voice called back. "It does seem like a dreadful place to be lost in."
Thunder watched a moment, just shaking his head at this situation he found himself in. Turning back to the tower, he began a slow ascent up the staircase cut into the stone the tower rested on.
The surrounding of the tower did not really offer much, being only a few barrels of supplies that had long ago lost the ability to be called food. A few more of the odd bits seemed to be scattered around, confusing Thunder more and more. He examined the off coin, seeing one side had half its face pressed inward, and both halves had a point leading to its edges from the middle divider. The opposite face had the same spread figure of the alicorn on its face, this time with the words "To the Holies, we offer praise" struck around it.
"The Holies? What the hay are those? And what is this other pattern? Why is this job starting to sound like a bad idea..." He loaded the coin into the pouch with the others, and began moving toward the tower's door.
The massive door to the interior looked like it had not been touched in years, but attached to it was a note, untouched by time.
"Streak, Bring the girl, and erase the debt. This is your LAST CHANCE"
He shook his head, then pounded on the door with a hoof.
When no answer met him, a pensive hoof pushed open the door.
The rhythmic ticking of the tower met him as the sound of the storm whipped plains outside was shut out. In front of him stood a long pillar, a small table with a basin attached. He glanced down at himself in the reflection.
A dusty brown face met him, the paleness of the blue almost making his eyes white to the pupil. A hoof ran over a long scar, reaching from his right eye to his left nostril. The same hoof went to his mane, streaked with patches of dark red and dirty blonde. The tangled mass sat cascading oddly off one side of his head, covering one ear and threatening for the right eye. He looked up at the pillar, a framed set of words sat above it.
OF YOUR SINS I SHALL CLEANSE YOU
Thunder snickered. "Yeah, good luck, pal..."
A staircase lead up the sides of the tower, a new set of mounted words meeting him
FROM THE BADLANDS I SHALL LEAD YOU
"Whatever..." He mused, climbing up the stairs. "Hello! Anyone home?"
The second tier showed that once there had been life inside the tower, but they were horrible housekeepers. A bed and desk setup along one wall, the space next to the pillar used for food storage, but those stores had been ransacked and spoiled by the stench, scattering their contents all over the floor, causing Thunder to crush one aged carrot underfoot. He wiped the mash off, looking at the walls.
A map of Equestria stood above the desk, marked with a heavy line that lead to several dots all over the landscape.
"What the...the Ponyville settlement, Canterlot, the southern deserts, Smokey Mountain...even a point here..." Several more points met his eyes, but he knew nothing about the north lands, and the West was just as mysterious.
The stairs continued upward, with their new framed words.
TO THE PROMISED LAND I SHALL TAKE YOU
He continued up, until a large splotch of red on the wall made him pause. Only needing to look for a moment, his hooves move quicker, until the next landing met him.
It only had a few small things. A table, two chairs, a desk with papers strewn all over it, and an occupant in one chair. It sat, a bag over its head, tied down, a cascade of red from the front of the bag matching the expansive pool on the ground. Around its neck was a simple proclamation.
DO NOT DISAPPOINT US
"This just got serious." Thunder looked around, but no evidence of anypony else was around, just the tools on the desk denoting someone had taken their time in making sure the chair's permanent resident was out of the way. A shiver shot through his back, and he turned to the stairs, and their framed words.
IN NEW LANDS SHALL YOU FLOURISH
"This whole thing is getting insane. What the hay is a girl doing in this tower buried in the speck of the Celestia damned wild lands? And, why is this place abandoned?" His frustrations were mounting, but he ascended the stairs once more.
What met him was a return to the tempest tossed air of the outside, and the heavier ticking of the tower. The first stairs stopped in front of a heavy door, but it was barred from the other side. Ascending once more, another door met him at its top, becoming the only barrier between Thunder and the workings of the clock itself. It was the front of the door that caught attention. Two bells, smithed from a heavy brass, hung from it, one had a symbol of the sun, a beam shining down from it, the other having a symbol of the crescent moon, and a beam rising from it.
He stared confused a moment at the odd sight, until he took out the box, and the odd notecard from it.
"Magic lock. Lovely..." He held the note up, and rang the bells.
With the final ring of the moon bell, a heavy ringing came from inside the tower, an almost melodic tone. Thunder would have jumped off the tower when that same tone echoed in a deep, bellowing manner from the massive cloud cover above him.
His eyes shot upward, now seeing the clouds above him breaking into red and orange pigments as the tone began again, now being answered by the bell in the tower.
"What the buck is going on here? What kind of crazy magic is this?" Whirring from inside the clocktower began to overtake his hearing, and soon the door opened, though, not too the large mechinations of the clock he was expecting. Instead, all their was was a fancy, padded chair in the middle of the room.
"Okie...dokie...lokie..." He stepped into the room, and attempted to get comftorable in the chair. It forced him to put more weight onto his rump than he was use to, but the padding at least made it bearable. What did not, though, were the sudden metal straps that clapped around his legs. "What the...!"
Another voice answered. "Make yourself ready. The bindings are a safeguard. Soon, you will be home." Thunder watched as massive metal walls suddenly appeared around him, encasing him in a metal box. The floor beneath him suddenly angled, making his breath ragged. The pistol slipped from its holster, to the massive cones that were below him. He cursed the Goddesses, knowing that weapon was too useful to him. It angled back, now facing him at a small window that looked out.
"Ascension at the count of five..."
"What?" Thunder struggled with the bindings, trying to get their hold to weaken. When no such luck was granted, he tried to slow his breathing. "Relax...stay calm..."
"Count of four..."
"No...nonono..."
"Count of three..."
His breathing was shallow, matching his racing heartbeat.
"Count of two..."
"Oh, Celestia...what have I gotten into..."
The seat jolted under him, and the clouds outside the window suddenly raced downward. He was going up.
"5,000 feet..."
"Stay calm, Thunder..." His racing heart almost refused to hear his words as the clouds shot by faster.
"10,000 feet..."
His breath fogged the glass, now so fast it almost made him dizzy.
"15,000 feet..."
He uttered a loud cry, lost somewhere between fear, confusion, and disbelief...
Suddenly, the clouds shot away, and Celestia's sun blinded him a moment. He thanked the Goddess for it, that shining beacon almost being a sign of improvement. Then, he opened his eyes, and lost his breath again, this time to a long gasp of astonishment.
Thunder didn't think of himself as a very "well-traveled" pony. He had grown up in Manehattan, so much of the sights were in his backyard.
They paled in comparison to what he now saw. The expanse of the buildings that now were in his sight stood over four stories tall, many towering over these smaller kin. It, though, was the fact that it was over the clouds, not supported by them. The buildings sat upon large balloons that barely shifted in their vigil of supporting massive structures the likes of which took Thunder a moment to acknowledge. The mass of the stone construction should have driven the floating metropolis into the ground below, but here it floated, merrily along its vapor-made neighbors.
The car dropped a moment, to suddenly be lurched into a slower descent. The city drifted along under him, a building side drifting into view. The massive sign on its side caught his attention, as it filled the whole of the view port.
MIDNIGHT SUN OUR SAVIOR AND PROPHET
In between the lines of text held the picture of an older stallion, mane white with age, time evident on his face, but a sharp look in his eyes.
A massive baloon, with two odd smaller pods on its side broke his line of sight, the pods having a circle of motion that propelled it forward.
The car came to a jarring stop, with accompanying metallic clanging against the side of his makeshift hold. The feeling of dropping began again, this time walls surrounded the capsule, and soon Thunder lost sight of Celestia's gift again.
A moment of pitch black became light streaming through fogged glass, illuminating things that Thunder only had ever heard engineer ponies talk about. Massive gears turned with a rhythmic ticking, propelling things that he had no idea what they were.
Apparently, though, someone had planned on the arrival of capsules to move through this particular chute, as words were cut into the beams that supported the sides of this tunnel going down. He watched each block roll by as the gears, chains, and machinery behind them kept their vigil.
WHY WOULD THEY SEND A SAVIOR TO US IF WE WILL NOT RAISE A HOOF FOR OUR OWN SALVATION? AND THOUGH WE DO NOT DESERVE HIS MERCY HE HAS ALLOWED US TO ASCEND ABOVE ALL FOR A LAST CHANCE AT REDEMPTION
Light once again left his vision, this time the darkness broken by patches of red glistening off the side of the car. When the streaming sun came again, it was now through a window made of multitudes of glass shards combined together to create a scene of the old stallion leading a group of ponies, a hoof outstretched to what looked like a floating island. A banner over the top of the scene read:
THE PROPHET OF THE SUN AND MOON SHALL SHOW THE WAY FOR ALL PONYKIND TO ASCEND
The desent of his holding cell soon ended with a thump, the panel with the porthole sliding away. The straps on his forelegs popped loose, and Thunder once again stood on his hooves. He stretched his body out, the chair really not offering much comfort. He worked a kink out of his back, then stretched his wings out, the stiffness aparent as they worked out to full spread. He stepped into the room, the scent of candles and smoke permeating the entirety of the air, and the splashing of water with each step was almost enveloped by the sound of, from what Thunder could tell, a whole group of ponies singing in unison.
He stepped forward, looking over the room, seeing the water he currently stood in was being cascaded down a waterfall against one wall. Confusion took over as he looked at the opposite direction, and the banner that was over the tunnel.
THE SEED OF THE PROPHET SHALL SIT ON THE THRONE AND USE THE SPEAR OF HEAVEN TO CLEANSE THE BAD LANDS
A shudder went through Thunder, ideas of something sinister behind those words making his pace quicken away from them.
A statue of the old stallion stood on a massive pillar, its forelegs open to Thunder in a welcoming embrace. He decided not to hug him, instead looking for some kind of way through this madness. Three entrances presented themselves, much to Thunder's chagrin.
The right presented a set-up that was bizarre to him. Rows and rows of bench seats sat between him and a small podium, a book filled with more cryptic words and passages than the Equestrian language was able to give sitting on it. He tried reading a small passage, but promptly gave up after only a few words seeming more geared to please the ego of the prophet than anything else. The window, again made of shards of glass designed to depict something, showed the old stallion again, this time with a younger mare at his side. In his forelegs was a bundle, wrapped in blankets and a chunk of the glass that made a circle around the head of the young one. A banner, now engraved into the stone, read:
THE SEED OF HEAVEN THE FUTURE OF OUR CITY
The opposite room told more. The same benches and podium were there, but this time it sat in front of another ornate window. This one was intricately designed to show the young mare from before, this time alone. The attention paid by the makers was actually amazing to Thunder, seeing even the youth in her eyes, her mane, and her hindquarters.
Flanking the glass were two statues of the mare, her front hooves together. Between them sat the banner in the stone.
IN MY WOMB SHALL GROW THE SEED OF HEAVEN
The podium held the same book, so Thunder ignored it. He heard the crunch of dried flowers as he moved around the stand, the back being open. On one shelf of the podium sat an unusual machine. Of course Thunder had seen a record player. Heck, some of his favorite compositions were pressed on records. But, the machine that held this record was something else. It had the arm for the needle like the record player, but it was much flatter, with a chunk of metal grating in front of some dark patch. A toggle switch sat on its front. He set it on the ground, and a cautious hoof pushed the switch. He nearly jumped out of his skin at the result. A mare's voice erupted from the grating.
"Love the prophet, because he loves the sinner. Love the sinner, because he is you. Without the sinner, what need is there of a redeemer? Without sin, what good is there in forgiveness?"
"Oh, lovely. More of their dogmatic meandering. As if I needed to hear this." Thunder set the machine back down, the shock of the words soon lost to their meaning.
The final way held a long staircase, and a pony clad in a white robe, the insignia of the sun and moon upon it.
"Excuse me. Where am I?"
The pony laughed. "The closest we will be to perfection. At least, until judgement comes."
Better keep those questions to myself, unless I want to get spotted, he thought.
The water joined Thunder in the descent of the spiral staircase, each step being cautiously made into the water covered stone. The final step lead into a massive room, the pool of water sectioned off by lines of floating candles, massive collumns supporting the roof, each one decorated with the alicorn from the picture, now with a candle glowing from the tip of its horn. More of the white robed ponies walked along each lane, the singing now booming. He slowly splashed his way forward, and the song soon quieted. In its place a new, stallion's voice now booming.
"And every year, on this day of days, the day the heavens give their gifts, we recommit ourselves to our city, and to our prophet Midnight Sun. We recommit through sacrifice, by the giving of thanks, and by submerging ourselves in the sweet waters of baptism. Through the sweet waters given from our Sun and Moon shall we cleanse ourselves in the eyes of our prophet."
Thunder walked through the lane, the voice resonating against the stone walls, smatterings of white clad ponies moving alongside him. The end of the lane brought a large collection of ponies, and one in the center of attention, and older stallion, the orange of his coat highlighting the salt and pepper his mane had become. The stallion spoke again, the fervor in his voice growing.
"And behold! If the prophet had struck down the betrayers at Burning Hills, and had not denounced the bad lands below, it would have been enough. But no, brothers and sisters! The prophet accepted the great gifts of the Light and the Night for us, that we may be made new! The prophet payed for our deliverance with the sacrifice of his one true love! He lead us to our Ascension, so that we can become better ponies than those of the bad lands below us! He exterminated the vermin of the uncharted lands, to cleanse the whole of the chosen lands! He expelled the usurpers among us, so that we all may be clean and whole in the eyes of the Sun, the Moon, and the prophet!"
Thunder could only shake his head, and put a hoof onto the shoulder of a mare that stood in his way. It seemed the stallion in the center had been expecting this. "Is it someone new? Has someone from the bad lands below come to be cleansed?"
Thunder shook his head. "I'm just trying to get into the city."
The stallion chuckled. "Entry into the city? My brother, the only way to Ascension is through the sweet waters of baptism, to cleanse your body and mind in the magic given to us. Will you be cleansed in the waters given to us?" The stallion held out a hoof to him.
It's either this load of horseapples, or going back onto that wild ride. Thunder sighed, and took the offered hoof.
The stallion whipped Thunder around to face the crowd, a hoof pinning down his wings, and the stallion's horn glowing.
"I cleanse you in the name of the Sun, the Moon, Light and Night, and in the name of our prophet!"
A glow pressed Thunder back into the water, catching him by surprise. Words were being said by the stallion, but the struggle in the water muffled them to barely discernible sounds. The glow then forced him back out, the return to the breathable air making Thunder cough uncontrollably.
"I don't know, brothers and sisters! This one does not seem clean to me!" Suddenly the glow caught him again, thrusting him back into the water. He struggled more, but quickly felt consciousness flee from him, the darkness growing in his vision.
The line of guards snapped to attention, their gleaming gold armor reflecting off of the marble surface. Each body only stood out by the existence of a pair of wings, or a horn oddly protruding from the helm. Thunder’s eyes were not looking at that, though. They had been trained on the opposite wall, looking at the massive windows and the images immortalized in the pieces made therein.
A heavy hoof began walking along the guards, looking over each one of the ponies. Thunder did nothing but wait for his turn under the scrutinizing eyes of the commander. The eyes did not stay on him long, as they had moved onto the next stallion as soon as Thunder acknowledged his presence. By the time that he was down to the last of the line, a new set of hoof steps could be heard. No pony moved, as a glimpse of white entered Thunder’s sight. The wings outstretched towered over the line, each holding their place and waiting what they already knew was going to happen.
The figure stopped in front of Thunder, and turned to him. “You, soldier.” The odd kind tone almost betrayed the sternness of the words. “What is your name?”
“Private Thunder Streak, your highness,” he responded, his hoof guards clacking together as he had been trained.
“And, why are you here, Private?” She asked, the power in her words now coming through more.
“I am here to protect Equestria, your highness.”
Thunder felt his heart pound in his chest as the alicorn stood in front of him, looking over the body of her target. “You do know what the mission you are volunteering for means, don’t you?”
“Yes, your highness.” No hesitation. He had heard the conditions, and knew what this would involve.
“You will never see your family again, soldier.”
“My family has long since passed, your highness.” The sternness had left his words, but he fought to keep his composure.
“And, your children as well,” she spoke with a volume meant for the whole assembly, but looked directly at him.
Thunder was confused by her directness to him, but mentally shook it off. “I have no children, your highness. I only have my duties as a soldier.”
A look of confusion struck her face, and her head tilted to the side. “Never?”
“No, your highness.”
Her eyes left Thunder, glancing at the corners of the throne room. She then nodded, and left him, the bewildered look on Thunder’s face soon leaving.
The harsh words of the commander now piped up through the room, echoing off the walls. “Of the twenty of you here, it is most likely you will all die on this mission. Fear is expected. Those who wish may back down now. Simply step forward and you will be dismissed. Stay, and you will become walking corpses.”
No one moved. --
Light. Why did the light hurt so much? Everything on Thunder’s body hurt. Death isn’t supposed to hurt like this.
He opened his eyes slowly, adjusting to being under the punishing light of the sun again. He was on his side, the throbbing pain in his body slowly beginning to ebb away.
“OK. So, I’m not dead. Great.” It took a moment to get his hooves under him, but he finally began to take stock of what was going on around him.
The small waterfall behind him emptied into the pond at the end of a small park, with the sounds of birds chirping and the buzzing of insects filling his ears, and scents of fresh grass and clean air blowing through the cover as he walked through a scene that seemed more akin to a foal’s storybook than an actual thing he was witnessing. The ponies that walked through talked with energy and a level of peace that was alien to him. He scanned the spot, all edges of the park flanked by buildings that bobbed around him. He dared to peek over the edge of the park, and saw the massive bank of clouds that clung to its underside, the distance between the park and its neighboring buildings being nothing but open air. He looked around more, seeing a small bridge leading into the building lined streets, the ponies there smiling and greeting the stranger as he walked through. Foals ran through the street, laughing and tackling each other in play. Thunder walked on, only looking at the scene around him, and wondered exactly what he was witnessing. No streets in Manehattan were this peaceful, and the fact that these ones almost seemed to be manufactured made him cringe.
“Well, hello there,” a voice from behind him called out. Thunder turned to meet the teal eyes of a mare, her bright yellow hair contrasting heavily against her dark brown coat, and the bright blue dress she wore only made this more blatant.
“Oh, hello. Sorry, am I in your way?”
“Not at all, good sir.” She smiled, brushing her mane away with a hoof. “I don’t believe we’ve met. I’m usually good at remembering names and faces, but you are a new one.”
Thunder chuckled, the sound almost strangled in his throat. “Yeah, you could say I haven’t really gotten around much.” A weak smile crossed his lips, and he began praying to Celestia that this mare wasn't going to blow his cover.
“Well, then, allow me to make formal greetings. I am Emerald Delight, and I am the local seamstress and designer.” She extended a hoof, which he met after a moment.
“Thunder Streak, and may I say it’s a pleasure to meet you, Miss Delight.” He almost bucked himself for that, knowing too much charm made him seem really sappy, never really having a good way with mares.
She smiled, and shook his hoof. “If there is anything you need, Mister Streak, just let me know. I’m the mare with the connection.”
This caught his ear. “Connected how?”
She laughed. “I can get you anything you may need. Like, for example…” She reached up, adjusting the collar of Thunder’s shirt, “perhaps some new clothes for such a special occasion.”
Thunder was caught a bit off guard, but knew he didn’t need to stand out any more than he already did, stumbling around like a blindfolded foal. “Actually, I would greatly appreciate that.” --
The seamstress worked the machine in front of her, as Thunder glanced around the room. The inside of the shop was putting a lot of the clothing shops in Manehattan to shame.
“You have a very nice shop, Miss Delight.”
She giggled. “Please, call me Emerald.”
“Only if you call me Thunder in exchange.”
She turned to him and nodded. “Deal.”
“Where do you get your fabric from?” He examined the wall, and the multiple bolts of fabrics that it held. The pure color difference for each shade was almost astonishing to a stallion that had been use to simpler clothing.
“From the Driver Brothers, of course. How else do we get things?” Her laugh echoed, making Thunder blush a bit.
“Oh, right. Of course…”
“Though, I am truly amazed at the variety of fabrics they can get. Didn’t think there was a silk manufacturing plant in Ascension, to be honest,” she mused as a suit of black pinstripe was raised into view from her table. She helped slide the set on, examining the sleeves and the fit along his back.
“It’s beautiful, Emerald.” He examined himself in a full length mirror, the dark suit doing for his coat what Emerald’s dress did for hers. “I think it looks great on you!” She pranced around him, adjusting little spots along the garment, until she finally returned to pick up his saddle bags.
“How much do I owe you for this?” He had to wonder just how the coins in his bag translated to how he understood Bits. “Oh, don’t worry about that. I’m certain we can work something out later, Thunder.” She looked him over, and nodded an approval. “Besides, I haven’t done a suit in so long, so it’s good to know that I still got it.”
Thunder stared at her, and then nodded. “Well alright. I hope I’ll be able to repay you. This kind of quality is almost wasted on a bland pony like me.”
“You give yourself too little credit. Every pony is special here. We’re all blessed by the Sun and Moon here, under the guidance of the Prophet. With him at the head, we’ll become a perfect place, for all pony kind depends on us.” The strength of her words made Thunder remember his old commander. “But, I do have one thing I would like to ask of you.”
“What’s that?”
She turned to the door, and extended a hoof. “I have no one to join me for the Founding Day picnic. Care to accompany me?” --
The large area that Emerald called the Community Corners was more like a large plaza, a huge space that must have stood out like a bulls eye from up above, all the roads branching out from it like a cart wheel.
Emerald held a simple wicker basket in a teal glow, leading the bewildered pegasus to the assembly. It was crowded, by Emerald’s own words, with all the ponies in the block.
“All the Corners will be full of the population of Ascension. It’s a perfect day for all the ponies to get out and join the others in celebration.” She seemed to love telling the story, as any curiosity that crossed Thunder’s mind was speedily answered. A clear spot under the shade of a large oak tree prompted Emerald to set down the basket.
Thunder watched her levitate the items out of the basket, trying to think of the things to ask that may end some of his confusion, but Celestia seemed giving that day. A loud voice began yelling out to the crowd, indistinguishable at first, but finally, as a hush fell over the crowd and Emerald glued her attention in the direction needed, did the stallion’s voice become audible.
“…On this most special of days, we come together, one and all, to celebrate our lives here under the light of the Sun, the gift of the Moon, and the watchful eyes of our Prophet. This is the day we celebrate our city, new lives in this utopia, given to us by the Sun Goddess herself.”
Thunder began looking around at the group of ponies listening to the speaker rattle on things that he cared little about. The rainbow of ponies around him made him watched the sermon with such attention that one could hear an apple drop in the grass across the Corners. Thunder took an offered daisy sandwich, not wanting to bother anyone. He looked in the direction of the stage where a white stallion spoke many of the things he had seen written before. Only when new words were spoken did his attention return.
“Today, we encourage all ponies to enjoy what our great Prophet has given us, and the shops around us to thank the Prophet, and the Driver Brothers for bringing us the great bounty of our fair city. And, don’t forget the raffle at the end of the fairgrounds!” He left the stage, and some of the crowd began spreading around to the assembled merchants, the stalls and wagons bringing wares to the awaiting ponies.
“Isn’t this great, Thunder? I do so love Founder’s Day. A real day to go out and enjoy the gifts of the Prophet,” Emerald beamed, as she finished the sandwich with a large bite.
Thunder didn’t need to ask about the Prophet. If the banner from his introduction to the floating metropolis hadn’t been enough, their copies laid against many buildings, broadcasting the face and name of the Prophet. Thunder only shook his head, fishing out the box from his saddle bags.
“Hey, Emerald, what is this?” He produced the picture of the alicorn statue, careful to keep the rest of the box secret. He already lost the gun; he certainly didn’t need more information lost now.
“Oh, you mean the Monument?” She looked over the picture, and then pointed a hoof through the buildings. “I haven’t been there in a while, what with it being closed off for a while now, what with the Prophet having it closed off.”
He remembered the note. “Think you could show me it?”
--
Emerald walked with a brisk step in her canter, waving to all who waved to her. It made Thunder feel out of place.
A voice called out from a shop. “Emerald, darling, I need another opinion on this dress.”
She turned back to Thunder. “Sorry. I’m kind of the block’s resident fashionista. Do you mind?”
Thunder shook his head. “Not at all.”
She trotted into the store, and he sat down near it. The crowds of ponies were thinner in this part of the city, but there was still traffic, including two ponies that split away from the crowd to a nearby apple stand. Thunder looked over at the earth ponies, and noticed one had a rather unusual device on his flanks.
The mare running the stall noticed this as well. “Well, now. Seems someone got promoted.”
The mare in question smiled, and slipped her hoof into the device. “That’s right, Molly! I got put onto the skyline duties. Someone’s got to keep the lines clear, after all.”
Molly seemed to smile with more concern, as it seemed to Thunder. “Isn’t it dangerous keeping the Others off the lines?”
The mare nodded. “I’m ready for it, though. Been training long and hard for it.”
Emerald’s return prompted Thunder away before he could learn more.
--
“Monument of the Sun. An unusual name, but the Prophet insisted that we have a reminder of the embodiment of the Sun, and the Goddess that granted us our illustrious city. Her name has since been lost in records, and only the Prophet knows it, using it in his prayers to Her.”
Thunder looked over the actual statue enshrined in the picture in the box. It had a sense or majesty, with wings outstretched and rearing up on its hind legs. The face was obscured, with mane and tail flowing behind the work.
Somewhere in there.
“I do apologize, Emerald, but I have something I need to finish. I hope I get to run into you again, soon.” He bowed, hoping to not look to corny.
She smiled. “Well, thank you for the good time, Thunder. And, I have a feeling we will. Till then.” She turned, the flutter of the air letting Thunder catch a quick look at a Cutie Mark that immediately made him scratch his head.
"I had the oddest dream last night, Luna." The tea cup in the dark blue glow lowered to the table. "What was it, sister?" "That's my issue," she said with a look of concern, "I don't remember it in its detail, but all that remained after I woke up was a sinking feeling, and a sensation that things are happening." "Sister, you are being much too vague. Do you remember any details?" Celestia sighed, closing her eyes a moment. For what seemed like an eternity there was silence, then they slowly opened. "A pony. I don't recall any features, but all I can think is that this pony will bring a disaster upon us all." Luna's eyes widened. "Sister, this is serious. You need to remember as much as you can." A nod, and a cup levitated in a lavender glow, ended the conversation.
The crowds of ponies had converged onto the square, littered with vendors and stalls offering more things than Thunder knew existed. Some stalls for games that had foals throwing spears at targets along a cable. Others for using arrows to hit targets that popped up from layered scenery. It was almost amusing to watch the young ones flinging arrows and spears only to tumble over on themselves.
The stalls that didn't offer the amusement sold odds and ends that may have been useful to the residents but held no use to Thunder. Small bits of food did, though, and he finally reneged.
A stall offered some rather odd looking apples, striped in a rainbow pattern. "Uh. What are those?"
The mare behind the stall smiled. "Never had a zap apple before, stranger?" When he shook his head, she smiled. "They got a bit of a kick. Bet you'll like it. It's two crowns apiece."
Thunder thought a moment, then reached into the bag that held the odd coins. He set two of them down, and she took them with a smile. Crowns. Right. Not sure why they’re called that, but forget it.
The apple did kick, but Thunder didn’t mind at all as he walked through the stalls. It all blurred together in a cascade of sound, till one spike in volume caught him.
“...From the good Driver Brothers themselves, we bring the power! Command machines with the stomp of a hoof! Breathe fire! Summon lightning! All these powers are yours with the condensed power of the Vigor! Magic in a bottle, now accessible to any and all ponies! You know our Prophet is kind. You know our Prophet is wise! And, he has commanded the good Brothers themselves to bring this marvelous invention to the masses!”
Thunder watched the crowd, as the pony on the grandstand continued to call out.
“Breathe fire? Lightning? How does all that happen?” One mare said to Thunder’s left.
“I know,” came the answer from his right. “Everypony has some kind of magic in them, but this really seems to go beyond even that.”
“The stories I hear is that it changes your body,” the left pony said, a small giggle escaping her lips. “Can you imagine?”
“That’s ridiculous!” her companion said.
Thunder listened to the two, beginning to question what he was hearing himself. Change a pony? How? Shouldn’t that kind of stuff not happen to ponies in the first place?
Any attempt to relieve his curiosity failed as soon as a teal mare with violet and blue hair sauntered up to him, bottles of something held in baskets on her flanks. “Care to give it a try, mister?”
The bottle levitated out to Thunder, who took it in an unsteady hoof. He examined the bottle, noting the odd design of the bottle. It had a top figure of a mare, seeming to swoon backward, the stopper in the shape of a heart protruded out of her chest. Thunder looked at the bottle with some apprehension, but took the stopper in his teeth and yanked it out. Spitting it aside, he held it tight to drain the liquid into his mouth, swallowing immediately.
The vile stuff slid down his throat, making him shiver involuntarily. He gagged, then a sudden rush hit him. His vision blurred a bit, and he swore he saw the mare in question draw a heart outline in the air, a line of smoke appearing behind the hoof, before blowing a kiss that dropped Thunder to his knees.
He sat, gasping, trying to collect his now scattered thoughts. He shook his head, then looked up to see he was not alone.
“Bit of a kick, eh friend?” It seemed the pony on the stage had moved up in front of Thunder and now helped him upright. Thunder nodded, and the pony laughed. “They kick, but the kickback makes it all the more useful! Possession lets you command machines all over Ascension, telling them to do what you want! Isn’t that wonderful? And all you have to do is focus on the machine and stomp your hoof.”
Thunder collected himself, standing on his hooves again. “Where did this stuff come from, anyway?”
“The Driver Brothers themselves help distribute the Vigors all over Ascension. But, the marvelous invention of this bottled magic came from the Prophet himself! In his divine wisdom he decided to allow the profit and glory to his followers!”
More from this Prophet? thought Thunder. Seems there may be more to this than what’s on the surface.
The pony was still talking, but Thunder didn’t hear any of it. Most was geared to the crowd, and Thunder heard the word “cells” used, but the strength in his legs was back, and he was moving away.
--
The metal gate had a sign declaring “Raffle Stage” and Thunder knew that there was a way to his objective there. The mechanical gatekeeper seemed to think differently.
“Sorry, buddy. But, without a pass, I can't let you into the Stage. It’s all full!”
It had repeated that about ten times by now, despite Thunder’s protests.
It’s official. I hate machines. He turned back, the crowd from the Vigor stage in eyesight. What was also in his sight was a teal unicorn with violet and blue mane who winked at him. The Vigor? He turned back to the gatekeeper. So, all I have to do is focus and stomp my hoof? Alright. At this point I’ll even try a crackpot idea like that. He locked his eyes on the machine, who swayed there on its one support bar but did not acknowledge Thunder. He brought up his right hoof, then back down again with a loud stomp.
Suddenly, a wisp of something that Thunder couldn’t identify snaked its way out from under his hoof, hovering like a smoke trail to the machine. It wrapped the steel stallion in a blue aura, who made a whirring noise.
“Oh! Senator! How could I have not recognized you!” The gate swung open obediently. “So sorry to keep you waiting. Enjoy the raffle!”
Thunder walked slowly past the machine, who tipped his hat to the passing pony.
The yard there had fewer ponies and stalls, but a pair of brown coated ponies, each with dark red mane going down their necks trotted up to meet him.
“You?” Thunder could barely contain his surprise. “What are…”
The mare levitated a coin to Thunder. “Heads…”
“Or tails?” The stallion finished.
“Why are you here? What the hay is going on?” He demanded.
“Come on, now. Heads…”
“Or tails.”
He snatched the coin out of the glow, flipping the disc into the air with a practiced flourish of a wing. “Tails," he said in a monotone.
The stallion floated out a platter under the coin, which landed with a clatter. The two twin ponies looked at the coin, and the male smiled. “Finally!”
The mare shook her head, levitating a piece of chalk to the board that was strapped to the stallions side. “Yes, yes. Congratulations, brother. It was bound to happen. No one is completely the same.”
"So you say.”
The two turned away from Thunder, who began to voice a protest, until he saw two things.
One was the boards on the stallion’s sides. The “Heads” column had roughly a hundred ticks on it, and as the stallion turned, he saw the other board had the exact same thing. Only one lone line was in the “Tails” column.
The second thing was their flanks, and the Cutie Mark that they both had.
And both shared.
They rounded a corner, and Thunder gave chase. He had been moving faster, but the two had disappeared into the large courtyard that sat behind the buildings. Many other ponies, a few colts and fillies played around.
But no sign of the pair of brown ponies with the half Cutie Mark. What does three circles around a blue ball mean anyway? And what was on those circles? More balls?