Stations

by Mint Essence

First published 21st of January, 2022

A curious stallion begins following the many odd passengers and other little occurrences he sees on his usual train journey

Having taken the exact same train journey to his office job for ten years in a row a middle aged stallion begins to wonder about some of the trains more unusual and interesting passengers.

One day he decides to follow one out of curiosity, leading him on a wild goose chase, pursuing any and every strange pony or occurrence from the train, eventually leading to him losing his job, with his old life crumbling down around him in this endless pursuit of the odd and fantastical mundanities of the train and it occupants.

With a yearly train pass in hoof he then decides to devote the rest of his life to any little whimsy or intrigue that might befall him, chasing after the oddest and simplest curiosities with great passion, as might a care free foal.

Day 3873

Waking up, Positive Thinking lazily rolled over, smashing his hoof down on his blaring alarm clock as he pulled himself out of bed.

‘Day 3873.’ He thought, smirking to himself. It had really been ten, almost eleven years since he had started his work at Sunny Deserts. 127 more days to go until he hit the big four, he’d have to celebrate, as he had done for every other anniversary, each more cynical than the last.

He had started the count as an old joke from back in his younger days, when he was in his mid 30s. He and his co-workers had always joked about the endless monotony of their day to day lives, how each day that followed seemed to blend into the last, as would weeks, months, years, and so on.

Approaching middle age each pony had seemed to find their groove. They weren’t 20 something young fillies and colts anymore, they were adults with jobs, responsibilities, most of them were well settled down with foals approaching or just entering their teenage years.

They simply couldn’t afford to take any risks, do anything new or be spontaneous in any way whatsoever. Even the smallest curiosity spelled danger. Most every day was spent at work, their late afternoons and nights were spent between commute times and the few precious ‘free hours’ of the day they had left, virtually every second of which being spent between rearing their younger foals and the odd and ends of everyday life, eating, sleeping, taking a dump, et cetera.

They were lucky to get a hoofful of holiday days out of the year or the odd weekend where they could really just be free, and even then for most that involved dragging screaming toddlers or bratty teenagers along with them.

The simple pleasure of a foal wasting away his day in complete ignorance of time or care had gone from them. They could no longer run around aimlessly, constructing little dens or exploring the wide meadows, deep valleys, or endless forests of their youths, from the crack of dawn well into the cool darkness of the night.

Eventually he had found a new job, his ten and a half year old new job, older that a lot of his old colleagues little fillies and colts way back then.

He wasn’t approaching middle age anymore, he was middle aged, they all were. 47, approaching 50, and soon enough he’d be well on his way to approaching his old age. He wondered if he would joke about that when it came time.

Ending his train of thought Positive rushed for his suit and tie, his suit being a simple shirt and vest which covered his front from chest down to his hooves. Quickly adorning both he rushed with equal speed through the rest of his usual morning routine, freshening himself before grabbing a light breakfast.

Leaving his home the stallion took a brisk walk down the quiet suburban streets that surrounded his home, before briefly arriving in the town centre on the way to the train station.

He arrived at a tiny wooden building with a beautifully cobbled stone facade. Stepping inside he was greeted by a similar door at the opposite end of the building, and a small ticket booth facing off to his left.

Approaching the booth he retrieved his yearly pass from his breast pocket. The stallion then diligently hoofed it over to the mare behind the counter.

After quickly confirming the pass’ authenticity, as had she had done every other day since he had been issued it the mare simply hoofed it back to him, allowing him to trot off.

Trotting over to the aforementioned opposing door Positive swung it open to find another far smaller wooden building, no bigger than a hutch, and little taller.

In said hutch stood the same comically bulky earth pony stallion he had seen every other day, comical at least relative to tiny pen he was caged in.

Giving Positive a brisk nod he threw his muscular hooves around a large studded wheel in front of him, yanking it around with great strength. Causing a long sturdy, dark oak wood bridge to come out of the ground underneath Positive’s hooves, extending a good 10 hooves (feet) in front of him right over the station’s train tracks.

Pulling another lever a set of wooden barriers popped up at either side of the bridge, adorned with small magical lamps set to automatically shine as soon as the surrounding area became too dark.

Trotting onto the bridge the stallion idly looked across to the seemingly endless tracks before having gotten to the other side he took his seat.

The train station proper was built upon what was once a small long grassy hill separated by two equally long ditches at either side. As such it was unusually thin but no less spacious in terms of actual area than any other station built to service such a small town.

It stood like a strange little artificial island with drawn bridge and all. Off to right side of said island was an excessively long set of wooden benches that at least ensured even on a busy day that a stallion might get a nice seat to himself far off from anypony else.

Waiting in his seat for a good 20 minutes or so the stallion watched as the various mechanisms in the bridge he had just crossed were all reeled, causing everypony including himself to rise up from their seats simultaneously, as if in tune with the very machinery of the station.

Sure enough not a minute had passed until the blaring horn of an oncoming train could be heard far off in the distance.

Getting aboard the train he trotted down the long carriageway before taking his usual seat to the right side of the train, as did three other stallions, all dressed in near identical suits and ties, each sitting down next to him, two on the opposing side, one to left.

The four sat in complete silence, passing the first half hour of the journey reading the exact same kind of newspaper as the stallion sitting next to them, only occasionally looking up to idly peer out the window.

Passing by a station solely familiar by its odd passenger, not that the stallion had ever gotten off at this, or indeed any other station than the sole two he needed to, Positive idly wondered whether or not she’d show up, and looking at the four seats adjacent theirs at the left side of the train he began to dread the idea.

His suspicions were confirmed as in trotted an elderly mare, around 75, maybe 80 years old. Despite her age she was very pleasant to look at, and with the bright animated smile she wore everywhere she went seemed far more lively than any of the train’s other somber passengers.

Immaculately clear with a beautifully combed if grey mane and tail she must have been quite the sight in her younger years, and now as an older mare appeared as a kind living caricature of the ideal sweet old lady, tartan trolley and all.

There was one problem however. This sweet older mare absolutely stank of rotten fish guts. Not a lingering smell, but the kind of smell that could completely contaminate an entire carriage. The kind of smell that would make you physically wrench, if not throw up if you got too close to it.

And here this lovely little old lady was, the literal and unmistakable smell of death reaping off her as if it was actually infused with her very soul.

She didn’t ride the train everyday, but she was a regular enough passenger, appearing sporadically two, three, or maybe at most four times a week. Similarly she rarely got on the same carriage or took the same seat.

He imagined that the way she seemed to shift around the burden of her absolutely foul stench combined with the fact that despite her smell she seemed to be the very embodiment of the sweet old lady character taken right out of a foal’s fairy tale just kept her from being pulled up or banned from the train altogether.

The train continued on for a single stop, or about twenty minutes before the older mare got up from her seat and left to her usual station. Watching her get off the train from his window to what was otherwise a completely mundane station.

He had often wondered exactly where she went. It was simply her usual routine, she’d always get on this exact train at a time that linked up with his journey, and she’d always get off at this exact stop with the exact same tartan trolley in tow. But why? What happened after that?

He had never heard a word from her or seen her in any other context than this exact one. In a way they had known each other for years, or at least been aware of each other’s existence, but they were complete strangers in all but this very particular repeating circumstance.

The train continued on for another good twenty minutes, passing a few more stops before it finally arrived at Positive’s destination.

Getting off the train he trotted up to the station, once again diligently hoofing over his ticket for inspection before he briskly trotted off to his job.

His place of work needs no description, being just as typically bland as any set of office blocks.

“Eleven minutes late, jamming problems with the station’s drawbridge.” He casually lied to his secretary before taking his seat behind his desk.

The next hour or so was spent simply sitting at his desk in near complete silence from his part as he listened to his secretary read of various desert related telegrams, letters, and complaints all direct towards the company Sunny Deserts itself. Each letter would be systematically be finished off by him dictating a quick and snappy reply for her secretary to jot down on her typewriter.

Soon after he was called up by a sudden knock at his office to go and see his boss. Standing outside said office he was called in by a very loud and unwelcoming “Come in!”

Entering he took a seat in front of his boss, Citrus Jest’s desk, looking back across at the mare with no particular expression or emotion on his face.

His boss herself was a very stern looking mare with an unusually high forehead and almost comically large black suit.

“Eleven minutes late.” She simply said, smirking to herself.

“Oh, you’ve heard already, CJ?” He simply asked, CJ being the name the mare was most commonly referred to as.

“No I didn’t, it was a guess. I’ve been counting, and for the past 37 days you’ve been exactly eleven minutes late. Not five, or eight, or fifteen, no, exactly eleven minutes, virtually to the second.”

“I didn’t get where I am today by being exactly eleven minutes late!” She said, gesturing her hoof with real passion.

“Regardless I have to say I admire your time management. It does present us with a certain problem though. This lateness of yours it’s not accidental, it’s intentional, very intentional and particular at that.”

“To be quite frank we need you Positive. Your name didn’t come from nowhere. No, you have good ideas, especially as they relate to the desert business, always have. It’s why you’re still here.”

“But again, being frank, I think you might be losing your edge, or coming close enough to it. You’re ideas themselves, your dictations, those are just as good as they’ve ever been, but this eleven minutes late business, I just don’t understand it, and neither me nor mister CJ have ever been fully satisfied with an unsolved mystery.” She continued, fully laying down her position.

“Well in that case I’m going to be completely honest, I don’t know what you’re suggesting or where we go from here?” He asked casually, not feeling too uncomfortable, having known the mare for a good ten years.

“Well, first of I want offer you the rest of the week off, as a gesture of my goodwill. It being Thursday you could leave right now and come back on Monday, unless you would personally like to stay on for the rest of the week. But, I want you in exactly eleven minutes early every day following that, for exactly thirty eight days. Not five minutes, or eight, or fifteen, eleven by the second.” CJ explained, laying down her proposal.

Hearing the “unless” tagged on at the end their by his boss Positive knew exactly what she was trying to get at. He could leave if he wanted and she wouldn’t take any action against him, but she was clearly heavily suggesting that he stay. Goodwill his flank!

“That seems perfectly fair and generous of you CJ. You can expect to see me tomorrow morning, exactly eleven minutes early.” Positive said, gaining a large curious smile from his boss in response.

“That’s what I like to hear. I’ll see you then.” She simply said, still adorning her smile.

Leaving his boss’ office Positive continued the rest of the day as he had the first hour before heading back off home in preparation of the day to follow.

Author's Notes:

A tartan trolley for those who may not be familiar.

This story was partially based on The Fall and Rise of Reginald Perin. There are also many references to the show throughout this specific chapter.

CJ, Positive’s boss is also directly based on Reggie Perin’s boss, CJ.

I didn’t get where I am today without making obscure references to satirical 70s British sitcoms on My Little Pony fanfiction sites.

Day 3879

Waking up Positive face hoofed before slowly running one of said hooves through his mane in frustration. Looking towards his alarm clock he had seen that he had gotten up at his usual time, 6:00am.

Normally this would have been no problem, but the past few days he had needed to get up half an hour early to make it to work eleven minutes early, given the train times.

He could still easily make it on time, possibly even a few minutes early, but eleven minutes was out of the question.

Getting out of bed he lazily put on his suit and tie before having his breakfast and just generally taking his time with the rest of his usual morning routine. He had missed the earlier train, so he might as well take his time in getting the next one. Knowing the times like the back of his hoof through literally thousands of repetitions of the same journey he couldn’t be late unless he specifically wanted to be.

Leaving his house Positive took a brisk trot down to the train station, briefly stopping to pick up some light snacks and a soda for the train from a small shop directly adjacent the station that wound around into two ascending diagonal streets, one of which he had came down.

Crossing the road he repeated the same process that he had went through the previous day and virtually everyday before it. Rushing down to the platform he saw that he had made it without a minute to spare, the draw bridge being yanked back up as soon as hooves touched down on the other side.

Boarding the train he took the same seat as he had any other day, the only difference today being that he had brought some things to snack on for his journey. He had a light singer to himself at this. ‘What a wild start to the day, soda and sweets.’ He jokingly thought to himself.

Finishing his snacks soon after he waited another fifteen minutes or so in his seat until the same older mare from before came aboard, taking the same seat she done last week, and like always cheerfully pulling her tartan trolley behind her, the pure stench of decapitated fish heads and intestines radiating off her like a plague.

Watching this mare she began to once again peek his curiosity. Despite her smell he had no trouble looking directly at her, having gotten used to even its intense foulness from sheer repeated exposure.

It had been almost an entire week since he had last seen her, and for whatever reason on this day, like the last, he could help but sit completely perplexed trying to wrap his mind around who exactly this mare was, where she went after every train journey, and why. He continued like this for near enough twenty minutes until they finally approached her usual station.

In his intense pondering and having been already thrown off a bit at the start of the day he suddenly got a mad idea, or rather an impulse to follow the mare and finally find out the answer to his questions.

Following this mad impulse in a single instance the stallion sprung up from his seat and briskly trotted towards the carriage doors, being very noticeably watched by the three other stallions he had been sitting alongside as he unexpectedly left the train behind.

Placing one hoof onto the smooth bleached concrete of the station’s platform Positive felt a sudden rush anxiety which itself was overpowered by an even stronger sense of pure whimsy. It was ridiculous, but having passed the station so many thousands of times to only now step out upon it at such an inappropriate and random time, it felt like something from strange story, it was a mix surreal and totally mundane.

The station itself was fairly typical. Another wooden building with a intricately designed cobble facade, bundles of colourful little flower pots surrounding and in some places hanging from the very structure.. Instead of having a draw bridge it had a much more common high bridge, a series of steep steps that lead to a small trotway, stretching right over the head of any train to the other side.

Looking around at his surroundings he saw that indeed the older mare did disembark from the train as she had done every other day.

Soon after the train’s door shut and the chugging of the wheels could be heard behind him as the engine started back up and the train sped off, sending another distinct thrill of excitement right up the stallion’s spine.

Watching the mare he was surprised to see that she didn’t go up to the station’s ticket office, as might be expected, but instead completely skipping it trotted down to the end of the station before, with her trolley in tow, actually hopped down onto the tracks.

Positive began to panic a little, knowing that he obviously couldn’t follow her onto the tracks without being too obvious. So simply watching her he was a bit relieved to see that she disappeared behind a small bush, reappearing back at the other side before briskly trotting over to the main path

Hesitantly Positive looked towards the tracks, placing one hoof in front of himself before peering back at the station again. ‘No.’ He thought, he better not.

So turning back towards the station he quickly ran over to it, hoofing over his ticket as fast as he possibly could before snatching it back as he ran out off from the station to try and catch back up with her.

Finding that he was little more than a quick trot away from her, her smell assaulting his nose as soon as he sprang through the station’s doors, the stallion slowed down to a brisk trot, intentionally overtaking her as he had done getting off the train.

Both ponies trotted down a long slim stone path, cobbled in some places, somewhat more flat in others with little stones and bits broken away from its surface strewn across the entirety of the non-cobbled parts of its surface. The whole thing was on a very slight decline.

Looking off in either direction he was greeted by two small picturesque meadows to either side, busily active with flowers, trees, and insects of all kinds.

The only structures he saw along the path were the occasional small pound built around with very roughly shaped stones and rocks dig down into the earth, as if they had been gathered and out there by random passerbys to add to the beauty of each little fish pond.

Indeed he saw quite a few the further went along path that had their rocks painted and drawn over by chalk, crafting all sorts of wonderful shapes, creatures, and other weird designs. Judging by the skill of these small drawings most of them seemed to have been made by foals, but some were surprisingly well done. A drawing of a simple crab particularly catching his eye for its skill and complexity.

The path went on for about ten minutes, it’s decline gradually steepening until they reach a very small but well built village of maybe fifty or sixty or so buildings all stone made.

Approaching the village the most distinctive feature was a charmingly rustic clocktower that rose far above any of the other buildings in the village, being almost twice as tall as any other structure.

Unlike the rest of the building around it the whole thing was cobbled and stood like a long tower one might expect to see on a castle, being topped by a small balcony built into the shape of a hexagon that stretch up with six chalk white marble columns topped by a small green marble dome.

The tower itself didn’t touch the ground, instead coming out in four large arches at each corner of the structure which sturdily attached themselves to the surrounding building, allowing for a wide space under the tower that crisscrossed between the towns two main streets, south to north being the villages various businesses, shops, and tea houses, with west to east being the residential street of the small village, lined with rows of idilic little cottages, each conforming to the same classic homely style while retaining their own unique qualities and eccentricities.

Aside from the two main streets various smaller buildings and structures surrounded and made up the remainder of the village. And from the looks of the expansive hills and small streams that ran around the village the stallion imagined that the surrounding countryside might be littered with countless small cottages and watermills.

Entering the village he slowed his stride to a slow canter, allowing the mare behind him to soon overtake him and lead the way through the village’s main business street.

She continued right down to the centre of the street, just before the tower, and entered into a small cheesemonger’s shop to the right of the street, just before one of the tower’s supporting arches.

Leaving her trolley outside of the shop Positive slowly trotted up to it, sharply turning his nose away from the sheer fierceness of the smell. Then approaching the door as the older mare had he gingerly pushed it open, trotting inside.

The first thing he noticed was the pungent smell of dozens upon dozens of rich cheeses assaulting nose. The fishy smell however merely lingered, leading him to believe that this mare didn’t in fact smell of rotten fish guts, it was her now suspiciously full trolley.

Waiting directly behind the mare he waited for her to make her purchase, observing that she bought four very small blocks of cheese, each one very different from the last.

Not wanting to look too suspicious he went over to the counter and bought his own small block of Le Chevrot, hoofing over the appropriate amount of bits.

Leaving the shop he continued to follow the mare, watching as she trotted under the high tower to a small bakery directly under the arch at the other side, which he noticed had a very large and auspicious sign overhanging the humble little shop proclaiming to be the “The Oldest and Most Honest Business in Town”.

He simply lingered around at the other side of the street, trotting down a bit to put some distance between him and herself until she saw her re-emerge from the shop, a large loaf of hot bread in hoof which she put into a large cotton pouch she had presumably gotten from the shop alongside her cheese.

Continuing to follow her he watched as she popped into a small florist shop, bringing out another far smaller pouch of flowers and assorted herbs.

He then watched as she slowly made her way down the rest of the wide street, continuing down another long slender path much like the one they had came down from the train station.

This path like the last declined every so slightly throughout the entire duration of their walk. Other than a few cottages and curious castle-like structures, and a slight incline that rose ever sharper far off to either side of the path they came across nothing more peculiar than they had up until this point.

They continued like this for at least a good half hour before the path finally came to its end.

By the time they reached the end of the path those sharp inclines had become steep hills topped by even steep cliffs that hung over the surrounding terrain and boxed them in from either side at the end of the path. Said cliffs came round in a large circle, as tall and mighty on the other side as they were at theirs, and like the spot where they stood there was another small opening beyond the cliffs leading into a river that extended far past their reach.

It was a cove, a massive spectacular cove with a pond of shining sapphire water, and along its bank lay wide stretches of fresh sand, shining equally as bright from the light of the warm early summer sun.

Just then the old mare turned to him, smiling. “Thought you were being smart back there, didn’t you? Running off ahead of me like that.”

Woken from his amazed stupor at the sheer beauty and whimsy of the landscape that surrounded him Positive, who had almost forgotten completely about the presence of his older companion, remember how he had gotten here in the first place.

“Sorry?” He simply asked, finding no other words.

“Please, don’t speak, not now. We both know how you got here. Aren’t you more interested in how I got here, or rather why.” The older mare said, still smiling as she had done throughout their whole journey.

Simply turning her back she proceeded to nonchalantly trot her way down the beach, her trolley following close behind as her constant companion. She didn’t make another sound until they arrived at their final destination.

It hadn’t taken him too long to notice small clusters of red scattered about the sand nearer the water, and soon after that he saw that they were in fact moving, they were alive.

Upon further inspection he began to see little snapping claws accompanied by nearly a dozen tiny scurrying little legs. They were crabs, hundreds and hundreds of crabs, throughout the whole length of the cove. He imagined that there might in fact be thousands further down to each side beyond his vision.

“Crabs?” Positive simply asked.

“Crabs.” The older mare replied.

Opening her tartan trolley she reached deep inside, making a sickening squelching sound as she did so, only to reveal a large pile of fish guts and decapitated fish heads bloodying both her hooves and forelegs.

With a mirthful smile on her face she threw the carnage out onto the beach, causing literally hundreds of hungry little crabs to scurry over to the small pieces of hacked up fish.

“Come on, you know there’s no need to hurry, there’s more than enough for everyone!” The mare exclaimed, laughing joyfully as she once again reached deep into her trolley, covering her forelegs in blood and guts, to throw out another larger pile of hacked up fishes.

Seeing this, and now smelling the same pungent odour from before, only baking on the hot sand of the beach, Positive immediately jerked back, covering his mouth with his hoof as he repeatedly gagged, almost throwing up.

The older mare simply looked back towards him and laughed, although it was a playful light hearted laugh, completely unbefitting the pure horror she was releasing onto the once beautiful beach.

“Oh I’m sorry, I just had to get my little joke in.” She said, chuckling to herself.

“Please, come over.” She continued, gesturing for Positive to approach her with a friendly hoof.

“What are you doing?” Positive simply asked.

“What I’ve been doing for the past near half a decade, feeding my hungry little crabs.” She tried to explain.

“Like this?” He tried to question, pointing a single hoof towards the blood strewn beach while his other repressed another short gagging bout.

“Oh I’m afraid so. It’s that other exit up there see. Used to be home to a beautiful big beaver dam. Then the beavers left, the dam collapsed, and most of the fish fled down stream with them, leaving whatever was still stuck on the cove without any natural food source.”

“Place used to have two names yah know. Beaver Tail Retreat and Crab Eye Cove. Lost one of them, I’ll be dammed in it loses the other.” She said, merrily tossing another pile of guts onto the beach.

“And you have to be so jovial about it?” The stallion asked.

“Didn’t used to be, but it’s been over four years. It simply isn’t as somber as it once was, so why not enjoy myself. Besides, none of these fish were killed, least not by me, I collect ‘em from another that doesn’t need them and then put them to good use for one that does.” The mare simply explained, trying her best to her motivations across.

The mare and stallion continued like this, with Positive every so slowly being coaxed over by the older to have a look at some of her crabs, only after her trolley was emptied and she had assured him that there would be no more surprises.

The two calmly watched the crabs for another twenty minutes or so, hardly sharing another word between themselves, before retreating back towards the cliff wall. The older mare leaving her trolley behind her, simply taking her small sack full of cheese, bread, flowers, herbs on her back.

The mare then lead him on a little further until they reach a few large rocks at the side of the cliff. Once again coaxing him forward the older mare climbed up onto the rocks before they reached a more jagged part of the cliff, with rough hoof sized chunks of rock jutting out and being carved into the cliff face.

Expertly climbing up the older mare allowed herself one more laugh at the stallions expense, encouraging him onwards.

Pushed on by a sudden bout of confidence Positive made it to the top of the cliff face, being yanked up by the mare’s surprisingly strong hoof as he reached the top.

The two then found a quiet spot to sit on the grass directly overlooking the cove, lit up by thousands of little red scurrying backs.

Retrieving her bread for her sack the mare hoofed over a large chunk to the stallion sitting next to her. “I got an extra big piece for the both of us.” She simply said with a friendly smile, bringing out a little butter knife to cut their cheese.

Preparing a small hooful of beautifully crafted sandwiches, each unique with their very own mixture of fancy cheeses, flowers, and herbs, the older mare and the middle aged stallion simple sat in the soft green grass, enjoying their light lunch as they both peered out over the cove, smiling.

Day 3885

Waking up again Positive rolled over in bed to see that as before he had gotten up at 6:00am.

After his previous venture to the cove his boss had added up all of his lost work time for that day, demanding that he continue to come in eleven minutes early up until the point when he had paid that off as well.

‘I didn’t get where I am today by following old ladies smelling of decapitated fish heads.’ He thought, repeating his boss’ words to himself.

Seeing that he had once again woken up at his usual time, and would therefore be late, or rather on time for work, failing to meet his eleven minute quota, the stallion got out of bed with a quite smirk on his face.

It was mad, and he knew it, but he hadn’t intended to get up 6:00am, although now that he had he couldn’t help but fantasise about the possibility of continuing his little journey of whimsy from the previous week, he just wondered who or what might prompt it this time around.

Continuing ahead with his morning routine he rushed to get out of the house, briskly trotting back into town.

He felt such an exhilarating rush, which was only doubled by the anxiety and anticipation of what he was about to do. There was a certain giddiness almost more so from the sheer irresponsibility of his actions than the thing itself.

Arriving in town he decided to repeat his ritual from the previous week, entering the same shop, simply lingering around it for a little while before he bought himself another bag of sweets and a different soda.

Trotting back into the train station he made a beeline for the right wall, reading over some of the old tattered maps and other general information printed on the wall.

There were forty three stations in all on this line, taking a total of thirteen and a half hours to complete the whole run, although several stops cut off completely into separate lines.

His station was the fourteenth, his work was the nineteenth, and what he assumed to be the stop he had gotten off at with the old mare was the seventeenth, being named Baker’s Retreat Station, which however was hastily scribbled over by some vandal to be rename to Crustacean Station, presumably after the various crustaceous little creatures down by the cove.

His own station was simply called Norbitcolt Station, that of his work ironically being called Paradise Lane Station.

Turning back around he hoofed over his ticket for inspection before once again arriving on the train in just the nick of time.

He went to go sit at his usual seat until he a saw a scruffy half grey half ginger tabby cat calmly strutting along the train’s carriage. The cat had just one ball and had frequented the train for the past few months or so now, although he had no idea where the furry little things journey began, getting on at roughly the same time, but never being quite as exact as any of the train’s pony passengers.

Letting his eyes linger on the cat he decided to forego his normal seat, once again being curiously watched by his usual three silent companies as he wandered off in pursuit of the little tabby cat.

Following the cat up the length of the carriage he watched as it took the very end seat closest to the left, getting comfortable as it began to peer out of the window.

Positive took his seat opposite from the cat, also at the furthest most left side of the train, as he too peered out of the window, looking on contemplatively at the small river of pebbles that immediately surrounded the rails of the track, each fading into little specks of dust in his vision as the train’s engine started up and they soon sped off past them.

The train didn’t travel far, going on for a single stop before it pulled into the station, prompting the little tabby cat to stand fully erect as he arched his back out and stretched both of his sets of paws.

Hopping down from his seat he casually walked off the train alongside its other departing passengers, off which Positive was only one.

The station they had gotten off at directly faced a town much like his own, only far more populous and industrialised, with long narrow streets and looming magical street lights scattered all throughout in a neat systematic order.

The building loomed at least twice as tall as those of his humble town, and one could both see and hear many dozens of busy workshops and small factories not too far off in the distance.

Continuing to follow the cat he took him up a main street or two past many of the town’s busy restaurants, cafes, and a few other somewhat frivolous business such as a humble little coffee shop and purveyor of fine fabrics.

Finally leaving the noisy streets the little tabby ran off into a narrow alleyway, which was noticeably dark despite it being little over an hour past lux prima, or first light.

Positive rushed to follow him, his heart quickening as he believed the cat to be lost. Turning the corner however he found the cat perched up on a tall skip bin from one of the more prominent restaurants, clawing away at a little metal lock ensuring the contents safety from pests such as himself.

He then watched as the cat climbed from bin to bin trying to claw each open. He also noticed that not everyone had a lock, and almost went over to help the strange little cat out before deciding against it from fear of scaring him away or attracting unwanted attention to himself.

The cat tried a few more bins, it’s meows becoming all the louder with each successive failure until it finally gave off, leaping far off the last one before it quickly scurried off, prompting Positive to get back to his hooves as he once again ran after it.

Following the cat it took him down a few other alleyways, keeping well off from bins this time as it seemed to stride down each with clear purpose.

It wasn’t too long after that they appeared in a large open space, far less built up than the more sophisticated parts of town and even more so rustic, but not quite so humble.

The scene before him was an absolute flurry of noise, colours, and smells. Countless small makeshift stands and stalls lay messily strewn about selling everything from small hoofmade arts and crafts pieces, antiques, food and drink, or otherwise trying to put on some show or form of entertainment for the crowd of ponies in the form of simple buskers or mock theatres. It was a veritable bazaar.

Ponies from all ages, as old as 80, or as young as 8 made up the large chattering crowd, with equally diverse age groups running the stalls themselves, trying to haggle their customers or audience out of an extra bit or two.

Positive watched as the shabby little cat leapt up onto one of the stalls, expertly snaking his way along before pouncing stall to stall, completely oblivious to any of the passerbys or stall owner as he slunk around just out of their vision, his own vision seeming intently focused on every pony in sight as he pulled his tail right back to the side of his body like a fluffy little whip.

Continuing to follow the cat they both stopped as they neared a certain section of the bazaar that seemed to specialise in all sorts of candies and other confectionery goods.

Positive watched as the cat leered over the stall it was currently perched on at a large spinning clump candy floss, ready to pounce, as it did.

The commotion was violent and instantaneous, with all sorts of hollering and clattering of hooves and instruments aimed at the scruffy little thief coming from behind the sickly sweet smelling stall.

The cat managed to make off with a very large lump indeed, so big that it must have easily equaled its own body mass and then some, he had however very wisely sunk his sharp little teeth in close to the bottom of the fluffy pink cloud, ensuring that it stayed clear off the ground.

Seeing that the cat was clearly going to make a speedy retreat Positive sped off behind it, being hotly pursued by the owner of the stall and two of her lackeys.

“Hey get back her with your dammed cat! Do you have any idea how much you owe me buddy, cause I’ve been counting? This is the fourteenth time your little mange ball’s terrorised my stall, and so help me I’ll shove my hoof so far up your.........” The mare shouted, her voice getting quieter by the second as they both crashed off through the stalls, riling up countless other ponies before they eventually reached a large chain linked fence.

Looking behind him Positive saw that the mare from the candy floss stall was still in full pursuit, slowed down quite a bit as she tried to more civilly skirt and negotiate her way around the large swarming crowd, rather than simply crashing through it.

Watching the cat for some guidance he saw that it simply slipped under a small under a jagged little hole in the bottom corner of the metal fence.

Terrified it didn’t take too long for the stallion to realise that he’d have to somehow do the same or face the wrath of the mare behind him, mane equally as fluffy and pink as her produce, her face the very opposite of sweet or sugary.

Digging his hooves into the hard stone underneath himself Positive shot off in a mad dash, flying through the small jagged hole in fence with a loud yelp of pain, thoroughly dishevelling his mane and scratching up his coat. He was sure that much of his back and flanks had been bloodied, but from what he could feel it was thankfully nothing too serious, just a few bad scratches.

Not bothering to look back behind himself Positive simply made a mad dash around a corner of the alley, scampering away like a wounded animal.

Reaching the corner he immediately stopped on his hooves as he looked back down at the small grey tabby in front of him, peering up into his eyes as if with some deep subtle intellect unknowable by ponykind.

The cat looked up at him with a long flowing pink cotton candy beard, as if he was a wise sage ready to dispense his wisdom. Positive listened in intently. The cat simply said “Blahem!” because he was a cat, not a wise sage.

The cat then turned tail before scampering off further into the alley, leading Positive along in its wisdom for another good five minutes or so until they eventually reached a large wide derelict looking building, which like the fence had a roughly foal sized hole of broken glass in one of its lower windows.

Pressing his back right into the window frame the cat easily snuck through inside, his cotton candy beard still firmly stuck to his face.

Anxiously looking around behind Positive let out a loud sigh before turning back to the window, promptly smashing what was left of the glass with his hoof, making sure that he didn’t get any on himself. He had now went from skipping work to breaking and entering, but he wasn’t about to just let this wild cat chase end here.

Sneaking inside now that the hole was much larger Positive looked around for the cat. Unfortunately for him he found nothing but a large dark derelict hallway, with a few overturned chairs and random derbies scattered around.

He did however hear a small meow coming from somewhere overhead. Looking up he saw simple blue painted roof, so he continued down the hallway until he found broken in door lying between a small stairwell and doorway.

Climbing over the door he briskly trotted up the stairs until upon turning one corner he found another door, broken and barely hanging on its hinges. Deciding that the noise must have come from this floor and not further up he turned around and kicked out his two hind hooves.

Stepping through the new door sized hole Positive almost rubbed his eyes with his forehooves in sheer bewilderment at what he saw. There before him stood, sat, or lay dozens upon dozens of cats, alongside long rows of heavy duty sewing machines and little boxes full of fabrics, wools, and other soft materials that many of the cats had climbed into.

Cautiously stepping around the cats, who had all fixed their eyes on him, Positive went around the large room, trying to see if he could find his particular little tabby.

It didn’t take long until he found a small box neatly tucked away in the corner stuffed full of what almost seemed like purposely placed bedding in the form of silky soft blue fabric. In said box he found his cat, fluffy pink beard and all, with four cute little kittens all gathered around him, nibbling and licking away at their daddies beard while a large snow white female cat lay tucked away in the corner.

The cat simply calmly looked up at him as his little kittens like away at him. He found that the box itself had a large hoof drawn, but sloppily done, sign attached to the front of it, simply reading as “Mephisto”. He imagined that this must be the name of the company or fabric type, but he noted that only this box alone was marked.

Continuing to trot around he idly tried to work some of the sewing machines, finding that while most of them broken or needed serious repairs, but their was a slim minority that to his eyes at least seemed fully operational, having startled many of the cat around him as he flipped one switch only to hear a loud buzzing come to life as the machine starting sewing away at thin air.

It was between two such machines however that he found something truly interesting. Coming across another box much like the rest at first glance, suspiciously well bedded with a lazy little kitty inside, he reached down with his hoof to pet the small ginger cat, only for it to quickly pounce out of it’s bed and sprint off amongst its brethren.

Searching through the box he didn’t find simple bundles of wool or sheeted fabric, no he found tiny little piles of kitty clothes, all in bright cheerful colours, with many being a veritable collage of all sorts stitched together. All were clearly machine done, but for the most part looked like the work of a young foal, not to say that they weren’t pretty, which they clearly were in a charmingly cute way.

Picking up a tiny little hat from the box he was immediately startled as he heard many loud and successive banging sounds coming from bellow him, just around about the entrance he had come in.

Panicking the stallion ran for a larger box, shooing the little family of cats that he had found inside away before diving right into it and throwing some hastily gathered bits of fabric over his head to conceal himself.

He simply lay there as the banging continued, increasing in frequency and sound as it neared him, until he could hear the distinct laughter and shouting of foals. Perking his ears up he nonetheless remained in the box, listening.

No sooner had he heard the loud trampling of little hoof steps running across the door he had broken down had a mad scurrying started, as any cat previously awake it asleep immediately leapt to attention, greedily pushing their way through the large herd so that they might be the first to greet their dens new arrivals.

Positive tentatively poked his head out from his box, peering over at the herd of cats that swarmed around the small hoofful of fillies and colts handing them out little scraps of food, while others playfully teased them with toys. He also noticed that they seemed particularly interested in his cotton candy bearded cat, with many of the other cats also gathering around to get a good lick at him.

“Hey, I think one’s stuck over there or something.” One colt simply said, pointing his hoof towards Positive.

Realising that the young colt must have seen the glint from his eyes Positive realised that there was no good in hiding, so he simply climbed right out of the box, revealing himself to the small crowd of foals.

“Wow, how did you get here!” One of the foals exclaimed as they all looked up at him in bewilderment, the large herd or forty or fifty or so cats gathering close behind them.

“Um, I followed a cat.” He said hesitantly, looking on at the strange sight before him.

“Which one?” The foal simply asked.

“I don’t know.” He said honestly before scanning the herd. “Wait, that one, yeah, that’s definitely the cat I followed.” He continued, now pointing towards the same gingerish grey cat that he had followed from the train.

“Mephisto! You know Mephisto?” Another foal very excitedly exclaimed.

“Mephisto?” He simply asked.

“Yeah, Mephisto, he’s like the main cat. Runs the cafe and sells poni, I mean, cats tea and food!” The first little colt who had first seen him tried to explain.

“This mangey little cat owns a cafe?” Positive joked, smirking to himself.

“Yeah, and he’s not a mangey, he’s a little cutie. It’s not his fault that all those mean adults bully him just for having a little snack on their yummy sweets.” A little filly responded in a very annoyed tone, scooping Mephisto up in her hooves as if he were a pet as she floated over a healthily sized bon bon in tenuous magical aura for him to nibble on.

“Sorry.” Positive replied, not wanting to upset the group, least he be thrown out of their little clubhouse. Although some of that did rather funnily explain their little incident from earlier.

“But seriously, what do you mean by a cafe? Like an imaginary cafe?” He curiously asked.

“No, you haven’t seen it? It’s just over there. The Cat Cafe.” The little filly explained, pointing towards the far left side of the large room which Positive had yet to explore.

Running over with a few of the other foals she hit a large switch which lit up several lights all around that side of the room, revealing a large makeshift stage crafted out of long wooden planks hastily hammered together on top of which sat a small stall much like the hoofcrafted theatres of the bazaar with a large colourful banner overhead simply reading as “Cat Cafe”.

“We’re just practicing right now until we can take them into the market, but they’ve gotten really good.” She continued to explain as she took Mephisto back up in her hooves, many of the foals gathering around the stage with the cats who were clearly only interested in food, often pawing or simple meowing to the foals, to their great delight.

Sitting in front of the stage Positive sat down for what looked like it was going to be an involuntary demonstration of their little mock cat theatre.

He watched as a single colt scampered up with the small box of cat clothing, diligently laying it in front of the stage as every foal took their favourite cat up in their hooves, dressing them up in whatever colourful piece of clothing just so happened to catch their eye.

Positive couldn’t help but smirk as the little filly fit Mephisto into a dark black suit with a little tie, just like his own.

Getting everything else set up the fillies and colts all took their respective places with their furry little felines.

Suddenly one of the lights turned, shining directly on the cafe stall as Mephisto’s shaggy little face popped up, pink beard and all, although it had been greatly reduced in size from its former glory. The cat continued to rise until his fluffy belly was exposed from which a pair of cute little hooves could be seen holding him up at either side.

He continued to watch as another foal came onto the stage holding his own cat. Trotting up to the stall the foal held the two cats face to face and simply asked. “May I have some earl grey tea and a little tea cake please.” In a high pitch voice that Positive supposed was meant to imitate what a cat might sound like if it could speak.

“Yes, you most certainly can.” The filly under the stall said, moving her cat in an animated and lively manner as she reached up to hoof over a small sweet to the other cat. Said cat then took a long lick at Mephisto’s candy floss beard, lightly meowing as the colt gestured him over to give something to the other cat, their paws lightly touching.

“Here you go.” The colt said as the two cats’ paws touched. “That was really yummy.”

“Thank you very much.” The filly from behind the stall responded, somehow making a dinging like register sound.

He watched as yet another foal trotted up to the stall, once again with their cat in tow. “A rose petal sandwich, a chocolate doughnut, and some coffee please.” The foal simply asked, waving his cat around in front of the stall.

“Here you go.” The little filly responded, hoofing her cat over a few sweets before it like it’s predecessor took a long lick at Mephisto’s fluffy beard, meowing.

This continued for some while, each of the many foals coming up so that their respective cat could receive its tasty reward.

Finishing up each foal and their cat gathered on the front of the stage, making their cats’ take a quick bow as the stage’s lights turned back off.

Positive simply stomped his hooves on the floor in approval, loudly applauding their lovely, if eccentric, little show.

Shortly after this Positive let them all be, sneaking out the way he came in before searching his way back to the train station, intentionally avoiding the bazaar. He had however gotten a few sweets from the foals, and a decent sized bit of candy floss from Mephisto.

Day 3890

It was Sunday and Positive was waking up as he had yesterday to go to work. He hadn’t ever worked a weekend shift, but after skipping two days his boss, CJ, demanded that he come in during the weekend to make up the lost time, which he had of course graciously accepted.

“I didn’t get where I am today by eating candy floss from cats’ beards!” His boss had simply exclaimed.

So dragging himself out of bed the stallion once again ran through his morning routine before heading directly back down to the train station.

His ears were however perked up as he approached the train, the sound of a noisy animal making some kind of squealing sound that he couldn’t quite place.

He forbade his usual carriage all together this time, investigating the carriage directly in front of it which judging by the sound held this strange high pitched animal.

Entering he cautiously peaked around the corner, regretting his choice as soon as he had made it, his eyes having come in contact with a small capuchin monkey screeching at what he assumed to be his owner as he reached his little hands out of the silver bars of his large cage to grab several small chunks of apple which his owner was feeding to him, laughing lightly as she gently hoofed over each bit, piece by piece.

Seeing this curious little monkey Positive knew that he wasn’t going to work today, he simply couldn’t just pass up such an opportunity.

Sitting a respectable distance away from the two he idly watched as the giggling mare continued to feed her little pet before both rather disappointingly settled down.

Positive did not have to wait for long however, as the two coincidently got off at the same station he had followed the cat off earlier that week.

Getting off the train he followed the two as they approached a rather expensive of solemn looking all black pony drawn carriage. Luckily for him the towns’s traffic was pretty heavy so he was easily able to follow close behind at a comfortable trotting pace, craning his neck above the many ponies that surrounded him and other vehicles on the road to keep sight of them.

He noted that every road they went down was decidedly wider and busy than those which the cat had lead them down, with even the buildings themselves seemingly to loom over the surrounding ponies with greater significance both from their great size and the haughty atmosphere they gave off.

They eventually reached a large roundabout, in the centre of which was an equally round marble building that seemed to rise just two or maybe three floors, auspicious for its height or rather lack of it amongst some of the more towering buildings that surrounded it.

It had four main entrances, all of which jutted out of the otherwise perfectly round building. Supported by impressive marble columns each entrance hung a little under the total height of the building itself and resembled a classical design from antiquity.

A slight dome could be seen topping the building but other than that it stood mostly plain and stoic.

Seeing the carriage approach said building Positive briskly trotted over to meet it, gathering around two dozen or so professional ponies all dressed in suits much like his own, clearly here to meet their new arrival.

As soon as the mare and her monkey, strung along on a little red dog leash, left the carriage he watched as a whole crowd of pegasi swarmed around the two, flying overhead as they obnoxiously pointed their oversized cameras down at the little scene.

Flashing cameras from every imaginable angle each blurted out extremely blunt questions such as. “Why has the museum decided to take on a living animal at this time? Is it true that this small creature will become a permanent fixture in the natural history section of the museum? What do you have to say to our readers who think that.........?” Et cetera. Each question quickly silenced by an other with no time to reply in between.

It was very clear from the look of everypony other than the newspaper reporters hovering overhead that whatever was going on press coverage certainly wasn’t welcome.

Regardless everypony did their best to ignore the crowd of reporters, the small group of professional looking ponies including himself following close behind the source of all the excitement before the museum’s door was promptly slammed shut.

The inside of museum itself wasn’t all that impressive, at least not in comparison to some of Equestria’s far bigger and more prominent historical institutions.

Many different sections and time periods that they passed seemed to be fluffed up by a lot of explanatory diagrams, photographs, and little distractions to fill in the gaps between the genuine historical artefacts.

The area allocated to dinosaurs in the natural history section of the museum was pretty scant. Aside from a few not to scale models and illustrative pictures the museum seemed to have little more than small fragments of dinosaur bones and old rocks from that period.

Continuing through the museum they eventually came across a small jungled section with exotic plants and fauna that at least looked real, and may have been from the sudden humidity. The small jungle was sectioned of by a low white wall, also made of marble, that wrap around it in a semicircle.

He saw that there was also a complicated array of cameras and other technical equipment surrounding the tiny jungle with a small team of ponies that seemed to be setting everything up.

“Everything set up here?” The mare simply asked, letting her monkey off from his leash and collar as she watched him scamper off into the jungle, climbing one particular tree to which little pieces of fruit and other sweet treats had been arranged for him.

“Just about, we’re just turning the equipment on.” One of the camera ponies replied.

“That’s good, he seems to be getting in place now.” The mare replied back.

Everypony then gathered around the small exhibit, just out of sight of the cameras as all of a sudden a series of five quick and extremely powerful flashes from all angles lit up the whole jungle, causing the little capuchin to let out a high pitched wail before he ran off further into the foliage to hide himself.

Just as the mare was about to congratulate the camera team on a job well done Positive was suddenly startled as a stallion next to him was tackled down to the ground by two other ponies that had otherwise blended perfectly into the background beforehoof.

One of them simply screamed “reporter” as a discreet camera fell from the stallion’s hooves.

With all eyes in his general direction it was just then that the mare from the train locked her eyes squarely on him, staring him down before screaming. “He’s with him as well, I remember him from the train, he’s followed me here.”

Having satisfied themselves that the first stallion had been brought down the two presumably security guards jumped Positive, slamming him very painfully down onto the ground as they restrained him.

Both stallions were then unceremoniously dragged down the hard marble floor of the museum until they reached a series of small back rooms.

The other stallion had been taken first and placed into a small room with little more than a simple table with two chairs to either side of it.

As Positive had learned later from his own little integration this stallion was not a reporter but an activist from a similar wildlife charity to the one that the museum was apparently hosting. He was there to gather information and take pictures of their little camera set up, revealing that the pictures that the charity used for their animal protection funds were in fact fallacious and staged.

It was a petty and cheap jab at one of their main rivals in an attempt to increase their own notoriety and hopefully gain a few more supporters by scandalising a fellow organisation.

After his camera was confiscated and destroyed he was promptly let go.

As he had told the truth and they had found no evidence of any camera or other recording devices on him Positive was taken back into the break with some of the other staff.

After a brief introduction to Dexter the little capuchin. He laughed as the monkey was asked by his handler to retrieve a cup of coffee and a doughnut for him before he briskly did the same for everypony else in the small room, taking a good bite out of each pony’s doughnut before scampering off to his own chair.

Lifting a cup up to his mouth only to find that it was empty he turned it upside down, giving it a quick shake with a very confused but equally cute expression on his face.

They all had a light chuckle after that until soon after finishing his doughnut and coffee Positive left, once again returning to the train station.

Day 3891

Positive woke up the next day, it was Monday. He immediately turned over and stuffed his face into his pillow, groaning as he dragged himself out of bed, falling with a hard thump onto the floor.
Getting back up he simply put on his suit, skipping the rest of his usual morning rituals, leaving the house looking quite disheveled as a result.

Trotting into town he entered the small shop from before, buying himself two sodas, an extra helping of sweets, and a dandelion and rose bud sandwich to make up for his lost breakfast. Taking and eating most of it to his usual seat as he waited for his train.

“I didn’t get where I am today by drinking coffee and eating doughnuts served up to me by a monkey.” He said to himself, repeating his boss’ usual catchphrase in a joking manner, although there was no humour in it for him.

Getting on the train he immediately began to hear a light strumming sound. It clearly came from some kind of musical instrument but the sound was not at all melodious or musical in nature.

Trotting down to his usual seat he was surprised to see another non-pony creature on the train, although this time fully sapient with a dapper little vest covering his chest and midsection. Sitting there was a tall slender anthropomorphic cat, his fur not too differently coloured than Mephisto’s had been.

Said cat was busily strumming away at a small wooden lyre he held in his paw, presumably trying to tune it properly.
He felt the compulsion to rub his eyes at this to clear away any hallucination he might be having, but didn’t want to appear rude, so he simply trotted on, taking his usual seat.

Getting comfortable he sat there patiently waiting at first until slowly as stop after stop passed by with no movement from his new feline friend his patience began to wain. He had passed right by his work a few stops ago by now, at which he had almost left his seat if for nothing else than habit. He was starting to feel restless, and as yet there was no sign of change from the dapperly dressed cat.

He had however been given a good opportunity to see what life was like beyond his work, which he had taken up quite eagerly, taking his time to excitedly peer out the window every now and again at the new and yet undiscovered landscape.

He sat there for a good few hours, having long ago finished his second soda and the rest of his sweets while idly mulling over all the possibilities of who this strange cat could be, or diving too intensely into the equally intriguing possibilities of the new surrounding his train was hastily speeding by.

He made sure to press his muzzle right up against the carriage’s window whenever they approached a station so that he might be able to take in as much information from it as possible. Eventually he had even gotten bold enough to leave the train for a few minutes to have a better look around before frantically scrambling back aboard as the train’s whistle sounded its departure.

He noticed that the train began to empty the further it went down the track until there was rarely another soul aboard but him and this strange lyre playing cat. The more the train emptied the bolder his friend seemed to get with his instrument, eventually switching from tuning to outright playing it.

His lyre was calm and methodic, tranquil and melodious. It’s tune sweet, yet demanding of one while attention without being one bit ostentatious or catchy.

He found it to be the perfect backdrop to the equally tranquil surroundings out his window and his idly pondering mind. While before he had occasionally gotten up just to impatiently stretch his hooves and stroll around the carriage, when the lyre began to become a near constant presence he found himself more than content to just sit back and relax as the train took him wherever it might go.

He had thought of going back as his journey began to approach the afternoon, several long hours having passed with no sign of any end in sight, but he knew that he couldn’t have ever forgiven himself if he did. Work was definitely gone for the day and for all he knew his companion could get off at the very next stop after the one he had decided to backtrack from. It was a snuck cost fallacy, and the hole only got bigger.

The train continued on to the forty third, or rather the last stop, it now being well into the afternoon, but for the moment still fully light out.

He felt some disappointment as the train came to a silent stop and along with so did the lyre, but any such feeling soon passed as he rose from his hooves in tune with the cat, silently departing to their station.

The station they had gotten off onto is impossible to describe, as there was none. They stood on little more than a white concrete platform with no building or even sign post, the landscape looking wild and rugged with no sign of cultivation in sight.

They simply stood there for a few peaceful moments as the train sped off. “Heading for the pony settlement?” The cat simply asked turning towards him.

Positive peered back up at him, shocked to hear the cat actually speak despite his obvious intelligence. “I’m sorry?” He simply asked.

“The small mining town? I assumed that since you are a pony you might be heading there. There aren’t many other places for one to go in such a remote place.” The cat explained.

“In that case, if I may ask, where would you be heading?” Positive asked.

“Me, to another small village a little off from the one I just mentioned, only populated by my own people, and far more settled in age.” The cat said, pointing one paw to two large mountains far off in the distance, one maybe a third higher the other, but neither much more than 4,000 hooves/feet.

“I take it from your ignorance that you don’t know exactly where you’re going?” The cat continued.

“No, to be perfectly honest. I had just always wondered where the line ended, having taken the train for so many years.” Positive honestly explained.

“And I was the impetus for you finally fulfilling this curiosity?” The cat accurately guessed with a knowing little smirk on his face.

The stallion simply blushed back. “It may have been.”

“And I suppose you’ll be coming with me then? Least you wait here overnight for the next train.” The cat asked, his friendly little smirk only widening at his suggestion.

“If you wouldn’t mind? Although it’s hard to believe that the nearest settlement is really as far as those mountains way off in the distance.” Positive responded.

“They aren’t half as far as they seem, besides there’s a well trodden, in rundown, stone path that leads directly to our hometown. We should be there before it gets too dark.” The cat replied.

“So a few hours?” Positive simply asked.

“Yes, although emphasis on a few. It’s a pleasant walk, or trot in your case, I assure you.” The cat said, trying to reassure him.

“In that case I must thank you again, and apologise for any hesitation I may have shown on my part.” Positive said, not wanting to offset his new friend by his repeated questioning.

“Please don’t concern yourself with a thing like that. You’re naturally a bit lost, speak frankly and comfortably on how you feel. There’s a small stream about an hour’s distance from here, we can refresh there and finish the last hour or so towards the base of the mountain.” He said, continuing to reassure his new friend.

The two continued on from there in intermittent silence mixed with occasional lapses of light conversation and lyre playing until they eventually reached the stream.

Arriving at the half way point both sat down to rest. Positive watched as his friend filled up a small flask before emptying it a few times into his mouth. He simply took a few tentative licks at the water to test it it’s freshness before thoroughly quenching his first.

They briskly continued forth from there, arriving at the base of the smaller mountain almost exactly an hour later. The sun was still up, and it was still as light as it had ever been, but it had clearly reached it’s peak and was now starting to make it’s slow descent.

“How far up?” Positive simply asked as they both stood before a conveniently flat incline that seemed to wrap around the mountain.

“One and a half, maybe two hours to the summit. It would normally take longer, but the majority of our journey will be no more labour some than a simple walk up a nice hill.” The cat explained, walking on ahead of him.

And so he was right, after little more than an hour they came to a divide, to the left of which apparently lay the pony settlement, and to the right the cat’s. Continuing up the right path they soon arrived at a series of large sturdy clear wood walls strengthened by a simple series of iron bars that ran around the whole thing. The sun was fast setting, but there was still quite a bit of light out.

Positive watched as the cat approached the fence before nonchalantly pushing the gate open with his two paws as if he was entering his own home, which apparently despite the fortifications saw no need for a guard or even a lock.

Trotting through the gate he was greeted by the sight of many small one story wooden houses, almost all of which lay rather open with glassless windows as wide as walls despite their altitude.

He also made note that it was unusually hot, the heat seeming the increase the higher they had climbed. And as for the town itself everything in it from the buildings to common household goods while a bit primitive were beautifully paw-crafted and each had their own distinctive unique feel, while still adhering to the same general cultural style, much like the cottages in the small town that he had visited the prior week.

Trotting through the village he did notice that he turned quite a few heads, now that he was one out of place. But regardless, the ease of his companion put any cautious eyes to rest and they were not disturbed for the remainder of their journey through the small village.

Reaching the house they both walked through the wide open sliding doors coming into a nice little communal area right in the centre of the house on which lay a simple paw-woven straw mat.

The stallion noted the lack of prudence his friend seemed to have in entering the house, doing so as if it were his own, and while he was clearly familiar with his occupants from the general atmosphere and makeup of the town he imagined that anyone may enter another’s house in just a this manner and cause no great disturbance.

It wasn’t too long until they were greeted be three other cats, two males and one female. After some brief and very cordial introductions and hoof/paw shakes each settled down in their rightful place, the three cats and himself forming a small semi-circle around the centre of the home where the handsomely dressed young cat brought out his lyre and began playing his tune.

It didn’t take long until a small crowd of other assorted cats, young and old, from all corners of the small mountain top village had in it themselves into the house, taking a seat in their little semi-circle to listen the sweet melodious humming of the music.

This continued for some indeterminate amount of time, with dozens of different songs having been played, some more tranquil and calm, others equally upbeat and lively.

Shortly after the lyre playing the other guests left, with only Positive, his cat companion, and the original occupants of the house remaining. It was now dark, so they all settled down to a simple meal before bed.

Their meal consisted of some kind of red meat that Positive was told to be mountain goat, learning that the cats got most of their food from hunting on and around the mountain, as well as a very small garden that grew the community’s crops. Being very small and homely it did not take a lot to sustain the entire community.

For his part Positive had some simple vegetables. Not the most pleasing of meals, but something to fill his stomach, which he was grateful for.

He had also learned that while their was a small pony community the cats could have traded with they preferred to stay entirely self sufficient, as they had done for generations before the arrival of any ponyfolk. Apparently even his companion’s lyre was paw-crafted.

Other than that and some general idle talk he had learned over dinner that the taller of the two mountains was not in fact a mountain, but a full blown active volcano, which explained the heat of the surrounding area and mountain top.

His guests had all shared a good laugh at his expense regarding his very confused and fearful expression at having been told this.

They then went on to explain that many generations ago they lived in a far larger town alongside a series of smaller villages around the base of their current mountain. When the volcano had erupted the vast majority of the town’s inhabitants had tried to run away, all being swept up in the lava and turned to charred rock.

A very small minority however had decided to head for the smaller mountain, believing that if they could get high enough the lava would simply run down its sides and away from them. This minority were the ancestors of all that lived in the village today.

He then learned something of the pony town, being told that they had only been there for two years, and that the place where they lived and did most of their was a large plateau of rock that connected both the volcano and smaller mountain and was therefore extremely dangerous in case of an eruption, to which he was assured that despite repeated warnings the stubborn ponies were too determined to get their gems over all else.

Soon after dinner everyone left for bed. Positive slept on a simple couch with a massive grin on his face, the heat of the nearby volcano seeping into his very muscles as he lay down, proving to be quite the comforting blanket.

Day 3892

Positive woke up the next day with a pleasant heat surging, or rather resting throughout his entire body. He felt as if he had been sleeping right next to a warm fireplace, and struggled to get himself fully up and alert as a result.

Waiting for the rest of the house’s occupants to wake up he settled down to a nice breakfast of goats cheese and wild berries that grew around the mountain. As with dinner they spent much of their time talking amongst themselves, with Positive asking all sorts of curiously posed questions about their little village.

Shortly after which Positive was brought outside into the village to have a good look around and introduction to its inhabitants.

However not too long after they had left the house a loud series of sudden bangs alerted the entire village towards their gates.

A single cat, not much larger than a kitten approached the gate, opening it only to be barraged by a large mob fifty or so ponies who all stormed into the village, forming a large multilayered semi circle that extended from the village’s walls to the first of its houses.

A single stallion stepped through crowd wielding a large threatening pickaxe in his hooves. “We’ve tried a hundred a times over to negotiate, but this is a step too far. Take our gold, take our gems, take our food, take it all, but when our own start to go missing we can’t afford to just fight with our words!” The stallion aggressive put forth, a loud almost ear piercing cry of approval and hatred quickly following his short speech from his fellow ponies.

“Please, please, try not to be so hasty in your condemnation of us as you have in the past. Let us first hear your complaint.” Another young cat shouted as he bravely approached the mob.

“Our complaint is that we’ve had enough of you!” The stallion shouted, pointing his pickaxe mere inches away from the young cat’s face. “You know that you’ve been thieving from us for months, and only recently quite a few ponies who we hold as treasured friends and family members have gone missing. You’re the only thieves in a good few dozens miles from here, tartarus, you’re the only other intelligent species in such a distant.” The stallion continued.

“So we’re giving you an ultimatum. Return our friends and family and never show your sorry faces anywhere near our town again and you need not worry about us ever again. Do otherwise and we’ll drive you out and return what is rightfully ours to ourselves.” He demanded.

“Look, they have a pony amongst them, and they aren’t of our community. They must be taking ponies from elsewhere too.” A young mare from the crowd surmised, shouting over the crowd as she pointed directly at Positive.

The whole crowd then stirred into an uproar, descending on Positive’s hosts as they took hold of him, carrying him off into the centre of the crowd to “protect” him. He naturally tried to protest, but was unable to speak loud enough or put up any physical resistance to the large swarm of bodies.

The cats made no attempt to stop the mob in their actions, not wanting to harass them into a greater fit of vitriol, although they were clearly distressed by the whole incident.

The head stallion then made a gesture for the crowd to clear out, which it did, carrying Positive off through the gates, making sure however to not stray too far from their leader.

Said stallion then spoke up a final time. “We’ve been nothing but fair and patient with you, so we’re giving you one last olive branch. You have exactly five days to return any ponies you’ve taken. If every single one isn’t returned safely by that time we’re laying siege to this village and claiming it all as our own, without a single cat left in or anywhere near these mountains alive.”

“You’ve seen our numbers, and our rage. Don’t think we’ll just back down, this is too far, not when our own are at risk!” He commanded, violently waving around his pickaxe.

Driving his pickaxe right into the ground the stallion turned his back and quickly scampered off, following close behind the long train of fellow miners as it wound down the mountain.

Positive had been swept away by the large herd of ponies, being dragged down the mountain at first kicking and screaming, before quietly resigning himself to his fate for some ten, maybe even fifteen minutes.

When they finally arrived at their destination he was roughly dropped onto the hard rough rock floor in the middle of what he would have called lines of small dingy huts, but were more like shabby masses of rotting wood haphazardly scattered about the large plateau, gathered particularly tightly around what vaguely looked like a few small cave entrances.

“Unf! Where am I?” The stallion simply asked in bewilderment, immediately retreating back into his shell as he scrapped himself up off from the ground and looked back up at the fifty or so ponies all gawking down at him.

“You don’t need to worry about that right now son. All that matters is you’re safe.” The lead stallion from before said, patting his back as he approached him.

“I-I, sorry. I just don’t quite understand what is happening?” Positive asked again, more than confused.

“What’s been happening is we’ve been being robbed the past few months. Gems, gold, bits, food and water, even our tools and the very wood from our houses has been taken by those damned cats, and now ponies such as yourself.” The stallion explained, gesturing towards the clear deprivation of their surroundings.

“Our very homes are crumbling down upon us, and we’re losing both the tools and strength from hunger to fix them back up. But as bad as that’s all been we ain’t just going to stand by as we watch our own be ponynapped! Ain’t that right?” He put forth very authoritatively, pointing towards his ponies in wait of their inevitable clammer of approval.

He then went on to give Positive a very brief tour of the town, which was mostly a an excuse to drag him through the depressing catalogue of everything that had been taken from them, and every wrong done.

Positive did try to argue back that when he had been in their company the cats had been nothing but amicable and kind to him, and that he was by no means ponynapped, but whenever he tried to open his mouth he was immediately silenced as the other stallion burst into another tirade about some other travesty that had befallen their little town, his own personality being overblown by that of the much more bombastic and charismatic colt.

Soon after his tour around the town he was brought up to the entrance of one of their mine shafts and taken inside along with the other stallion who proceeded to lead him down its long and increasingly dark passage, the two lit up by nothing more than a small lantern that the stallion wielded.

It didn’t take long for Positive to become more than a little concerned as they winded their way further and further into the darkness. But once again this charismatic stallion stood as a constant distraction, seeming to have a story to tell about every little nook and cranny of the mine system that they past by, ensuring that Positive didn’t have too long to mull over exactly how deep they had gotten into the system or exactly how they come to be there.

No more than what Positive judged to be fifteen maybe twenty minutes into the mine had past when four looming figures suddenly appeared behind them, casually approaching the two stallions, albeit with a menacing little glint in their eyes.

“More ponies?” One of them asked.

Turning around to see their new companions Positive was immediately taken aback as he saw four very bulky male cats, far less elegant than those he had met the previous day, with flat almost gremlin like faces and brawny arms that monotonously dragged along the floor like a deformed orangutan. They weren’t cats, they were Diamond Dogs!

“Only one today I’m afraid. But he’s not from our town, so you can consider him a freebie as a sign of my good will.” The stallion responded, his tone far less lively than before, more calculating but equally authoritative.

“What’s happening here?” Positive simply asked, taking a few steps back from the stallion as he was in utter shock at how fast this whole situation had suddenly befell them.

“You really can’t be that stupid? Surely you know the infamy and rumours of the Diamond Dogs, and you know fully well just how amenable our cat friends are.”

“An almost cult like leader rallies his troops around a harmless threat while his entire base and everypony in it slowly go missing? Meets up with all sorts of suspicious characters in secret? You should be able to piece it together from there.” The stallion bragged, seeming quite pleased by his little scheme, and possibly even more so by his smug sense of self awareness.

His suspicions being confirmed and seeing one of the dogs playfully wave about a pony sized metal collar and chain Positive backed up all the more, his mind firing with a thousand different anxieties.

“But, w-why would you do this? What do you gain from it?” Positive simply asked, failing to reason with him.

“It’s simple. I septuple their workforce, meaning that they’ll make many times what they could have, and in exchange I get a 25% cut, in comparison to the messily 5% I was getting with my ponies. The more ponies they have, the bigger that cut will be.” The stallion continued, a wide smirk parting his face.

Acting on impulse in a sudden unexpected bout of courage Positive sprang forth, smashing the stallion’s small lantern with his right hoof, causing it to burst open upon him, large shards of glass cutting right into his skin as the lantern’s oil spilled all over his furry coat, instantly lighting much of his body on fire.

He then made an immediate dash away for what he hoped was the exit. Looking behind himself he saw that he wasn’t followed, the four dogs all very humorously stamping all over the stallion’s body to try and put out the fire, burning themselves in the process. He’d probably be fine, and the fire would hopefully give Positive long enough to get away.

Positive continued to run down the mine until he luckily came to it’s entrance. Slowing down his mad sprint to a slow trot he came back into the light.

However he must have still looked quite distressed as a mare approached him to ask what had happened to get him into such a fright.

He lied, explaining that their leader had gotten one of his forelegs stuck under a big rock that he couldn’t move and would need quite a few ponies to help him out.

Hearing this a good majority of the mining town immediately leapt into action, thundering right down into the mine with great speed in pursuit of their dear leader.

Positive used this as a good opportunity to silently slip away from the town before once again making a mad dash away for his life, practically flying right down the mountain and across the long derelict path to the smooth white concrete of the station.

For some reason the coldness and perfectly flat surface of the platform brought him great comfort. It was the only real sign of civilisation, or at least the civilisation that he was familiar with, in this vast expanses of alienness and at least on his own people’s side, barbarity.

Luckily he had to wait for no longer than two hours, having thought that he might need to wait through the night and well into the next day for the arrival of his train.

Getting onboard he took his usual seat and one long look out towards the mountains, swearing never to return to this station ever again. The catharsis he felt as the trains kicked into gear and slowly began to power its way down the tracks was unreal.

He had no idea what might have happened in either town. Had the stallion been found out and ousted by his followers? Had any of the pony slaves the mines held been freed? Would the village of the cats be attacked? Would things simply return to normal?

He did feel guilty for having abandoned both the cats and his own brethren to the fate of that cruel slaver and his dog’s, but he was no hero, and he had no doubt that if his schemes hadn’t been found out a fast series of lies would have been spun about him by their leader to the effect that no-pony there would have let him leave alive if here was caught.

Author's Notes:

I know that this one was fairly short given how much could have been covered in terms of the town and its lore, but this is all told through Positive’s perspective, so by no means can anything outside of that be covered.

Day 0

Positive lay there staring at his ceiling. It was 9:47AM and he had just gotten up.

This had been the first morning in decades that he hadn’t had his peaceful slumber interrupted by the incessant screening of his alarm clock. He had half expected to wake up at 6:00AM on the button regardless, his body having become so accustomed to this specific time that it could conceive of getting up at no other time than it.

He supposed that he was just too disturbed by recent revelations and the general eccentricity of the past two weeks to adhere to such structure.

He had lost his job, as might have been expected from his recent erratic behaviour, topped by him missing a full four days of work.

It was now Friday, and he had absolutely nowhere to be for the first time in in ten plus years, on a week day.

He didn’t know how to feel about that. It was as if all the terror and weight he should have been feeling as a result of his extreme irresponsibility over the past while had hit him all at once.

There was no whimsy........He was simply and plainly depressed. Not sad, nor did he feel any anger or fear for his future, just depressed.

He simply turned back over, stuffed his face into his pillow and slept. And he remained in this state for the better part of two weeks, only getting up to tend to absolute necessities, and even then often neglecting them as well.

Day 137

Two Weeks Later...

He had lost his job almost exactly two weeks ago to the day, having spent the great majority of that time in bed or otherwise lazing about until he was slowly able to recover his senses.

After all he had lost his job, but being a single dutifully employed stallion for the past decade had left him with more than enough money and in quite the stable situation that he needn’t see his termination as an immediate threat to his basic security.

He had no income, but the decent chunk of money he had been able to save, if for no other reason than having nothing and nopony to spend it on, gave him a generous amount of breathing room.

There was certainly still some fear there, but there was also a great empowering feeling he felt from having lost his job and yet despite that still being able to carry on his life as he had before, minus his depression for the last month.

He might live years on his savings if he was frugal enough, and his train pass still had 137 days on it, and he intended to use them.

Getting out of bed he put on his usual suit, skipping the rest of his routine as he hurried down to the shop to get a less than healthy breakfast.

He had thought of something more frugal when he got there considering that he no longer had any income, but he was feeling a certain high after getting over his depression so he decided to go for a fancier soda, a rose petal and tarragon sandwich, and a smaller but more expensive bag of sweets.

Getting on the train he took his usual seat amongst his other three companions, but he didn’t need to see much to know what he’d be going after today.

Looking down at the tracks as the train’s engine began to start up he stared down at the endless stream of pebbles at either side of its rails, which immediately brought to mind a long water stream that winded off far into the distance directly away from the tracks, banked at either side by countless bright little pebbles, that he had often seen between his own station and the next. The only problem being that it was too far away from either station to be in trotting distance.

A few minutes into their journey he realised that he’d need to do something a bit more drastic if this was really the route he wanted to take. He had to find some way of getting off the train before it stopped.

Abruptly getting up from his seat Positive casually trotted towards the bathroom, locking the door behind him as he lay the toilet seat down to stand up on. Climbing on top of it he reached for a dark maroon coloured set of curtains just above the toilet, opening them to reveal a small window.

Unlocking the window he threw it open to peer his head out. The gap was indeed small, and the train was moving at some speed, but not nearly fast enough to seriously injure himself, so long as he was careful with his levitation magic.

Waiting a good few minutes more until they came closer to small stream Positive primed himself to make his leap. He had feared that he might lack courage to make the jump, but just as they were passing it he threw himself right out of the window in a moment of impulse, remembering to apply his magic to soften his blow at the very last second, just as his rump was connecting with the surprisingly soft grass bellow.

Looking back over at the train he saw a curious mare peering out of the window after him, but he supposed that that didn’t matter too much. He laughed, waving back at her as she disappeared, speeding off into the distance.

Getting back up onto his hooves he looked around at his surroundings, simply smiling as he felt the warm sun shine on his coat from above, the bright fields of luscious grass tickling his fetlocks. He broke into another fit of laughter.

Trotting back along the tracks he came up to the stream after a very short two minutes. Sitting by its pebbled bank as he reached for his sandwich and soda, enjoying both as he lay down to rest in the sun.

Finishing his snack he got back up and made his way down the stream, letting the flow of rushing water fill his ears as his hooves crunched and sank into the pebbles underhoof. He continued like this for a good hour and a half, leisurely trotting along the stream until he could eventually make out a small shore off in the distance.

Not wanting to disturb his comfortable little stroll he tried to not pay in too much mind, simply seeing it as another part of the beautiful scenery.

Nearing the coast however his interest was perked as he found a small derelict lighthouse not too far off its shore, and a smaller shack that lay just beside the stream, just before the beach.

Entering the shack he found it to be empty, say for a half broken oar, a few unreadable maps half hanging off the wall or lying haphazardly across the floor, and a small hoofful of equally ruined books. Searching around, it clearly had some connection to the lighthouse, but he wasn’t able to figure out it’s exact purpose.

Leaving the shack he made of for the shore, finding a small row boat alongside a single intact paddle, both laying on the sand beside the water’s edge. Turning the small boat over and checking the immediate vicinity didn’t reveal any else that might help him.

He then questioned why he would even bother looking, before he gazed over the water, towards the lighthouse. It wasn’t far away, in fact he could probably just swim back if he really needed to.

A certain shiver ran up his spine at this idea. Was really going to be this reckless? No, he knew that there was no way to stop himself at this point. He didn’t feel any compulsion per se, this is simply just what was happening.

Returning to the shack he took the paddle half of the other oar that lay inside and a good length of rope that didn’t look too badly worn out and trotted back to the boat.

After quickly tying his rope to a conveniently placed hook he inside the small row boat he threw his broken oar inside, grabbing either side of the boat with either of his forehooves as he heaved it off into the water.

Getting it out by a decent distance he paddled his way alongside it before climbing in. At least it floated, now he just had to figure out how to work his oars, or rather oar and a half.

He spent a good few minutes at this, uselessly trying to get a good grip of either oar, only to keep losing them to the sea, retrieving them, losing them another half dozen times, before he was finally able to get a few weak paddles in that did nothing more than slightly turn his boat.

However, at some point in the midst of this, while using his magic on the oars to try and steer his ship back around, he had accidentally stroked the water with his telekinetic spell, causing his boat to move forward by a few inches.

Continuing use his magic more directly he found that he was only able to move in the direction he wanted to, but make some decent speed towards it as well. It didn’t take him anymore than five minutes to reach the lighthouse once he had discovered this, considering how close it was to the shore.

The lighthouse stood on a small island of rock that stretched out to create an almost natural dock, which was in turn attached to a wooden, if slightly worn down dock where he could park his boat alongside two other that lay there.

Getting out from his boat he looked up towards the lighthouse itself. It was actually quite small, elevated by a roughly cut spire of rock that made up well over three quarters of its height, with the building itself looking like nothing more than a simple stone cabin with a short stump protruding from its top, from which a large light bulb could clearly be seen.

Trotting around the small island he found a set of fairly intact stone stairs that wrapped around the spiring rock. Climbing them he was brought face to face with lighthouse’s door, which to his frustration remained firmly locked behind a stiff iron padlock.

Scrambling around for a key that might have been conveniently dropped he found nothing. Similarly he had thought about smashing the windows to get inside, but even if he could he really didn’t want to just leave the building open to the elements which otherwise seemed perfectly intact, at least on the inside.

Peering in however he did notice something interesting. In the dead centre of the room lay a small winding stairwell that seemed to dig into the floor underneath, spiralling right through down to what he presumed to be the rock he had just climbed his way around.

Quickly rushing back down the stairs he did another lap around the base of the rock, finding a suspiciously placed clump of moss that hung down from the back of the rock in a small door shaped arch.

Pushing his hoof against it he found what at first appeared to be a solid wall, however upon tapping it a few times he saw a faint blue glow behind the moss, causing the rock to momentarily disappear, allowing him to trot through before it immediately appeared back again, as if it had never gone. He imagined that he must have accidentally tapped it a certain number of times or in a certain way that it was programmed to respond to, or it was more likely than not simply broken.

Trotting down the narrow corridor he came to the stairs, clopping his way up the metallic surface to the main building above.

While there wasn’t anything too exciting to see inside it had certainly quaint almost homely feeling to it for it’s simplicity. Other than a small hatch that lead up to the light itself there was one single room which in of itself was quite small, made all the more constrained by the bed, stove, desk, icebox and one or two other small pieces of furniture that were squashed between rows and rows of well stocked antique bookshelves, all of which was elevated by a hoof/foot or two by a small cobblestone wall that ran around the entirety of the building, minus the door, all beautifully overlayed by dark oak top.

A small fireplace also lay at either side of two bookshelves, which like everything else fit quite homely into the small room, really finishing the picture, even if it may have looked less than safe tightly packed between so many flammable items.

Despite this however the centre of the room lay completely bare, giving a pony some space to stretch his hooves and look around at the entirety of his little world, so it didn’t feel too claustrophobic.

He spent an hour like this, looking through some of the books before he started to play around with some of the lighthouse’s controls, expecting the thing to either have no power or be completely broken. Given this he was quite shocked when he flipped a certain switch only for the whole buildings to come to life as a blinding light started up, rotating a few sturdy mechanisms up above to turn the direction of the light.

Positive panicked, slamming his hoof back down on the switch on the off chance that anypony far off in the distance might have seen the building come to life.

He spent the next half hour idly milling about as he had been, having a good look at as many of countless books that surrounded him as possible, or otherwise curiously poking his head around to see what other little scrap he might find. He hoped for food, thinking that he’d be able to cook up something decent by the stove, but then imagined that even any canned food that might have been kept here would have gone off long ago by now.

With that done he left soon after, leaving everything exactly as he had found it, as he vowed to come back to the place. As it was, being perfectly isolated but also quite homely and comfortable, it wouldn’t take much to touch it up and make it into a regular den or hideout he could come to as a retreat away from the world, or simply if he was bored enough to plan a day out there.

Indeed disturbing it in any way almost seemed like an impious act against its untouched and perfectly preserved stillness.

Leaving the same way he had come in Positive had initially thought of simply retracing his steps and trying to find some way back to his station along the rails, but he imagined that there must be a settlement, or at the very least an abandoned one nearby which the lighthouse had once served.

So getting in his boat he set off in a random direction, using his magic to propel himself forward until he found something interesting to dock by or simply got too tired and was forced to return to the lighthouse for the night, setting off in the opposite direction the next day.

Indeed he couldn’t have been sailing for much more than twenty minutes when he caught sight of a small port by the coast. Not wanting to draw suspicion he immediately brought his boat up to the shore, dragging it a good deal up the beach before he trotted up to see what he could find.

Trotting up from the beach to find a small stone path that he continued his way down he at first came across a small series of abandoned buildings, not shacks, but proper homes and businesses that while clearly not in use didn’t look too done in.

However soon after he came upon some ponies and a street that looked at least somewhat more lively than the few he had passed, but could hardly be called that of a thriving town. Trotting around the town he guessed that for every two abandoned buildings he had passed there wasn’t more than one that appeared occupied, not that the town was particularly large to begin with.

Seeing that nopony seemed to take any interest in him he soon found a small run down bar, that while open for business didn’t look much better than the greater two thirds of the towns infrastructure.

Entering the bar he found that while at the bar itself, where the drinks were served, nothing seemed particularly off, the place where normal seating would have been once placed for ponies to enjoy a nice meal or a few drinks had become a stage for leering stallions to gather round and gawk at dancing mares, in all sorts of positions and lewd states of dress.

Blushing as he approached the bar Positive was immediately greeted by the burly stallion serving drinks who spoke in a rough voice saying. “2 bits for a drink, 20 for a dance, 40 for a half hour, 80 for an hour, 150 for the night.” He said nonchalantly.

“Sorry?” Positive asked.

“Well I haven’t seen you before, so I thought I’d give the prices up front. You just wonder in or something, you look a bit lost?” He simply asked.

Lying Positive went on to explain how a friend of his had about the shore he had first come across by the lighthouse, saying that it was the ideal place for a nice day out given how secluded it was. He then quickly added that said friend had told him nothing any settlements nearby, and that he had just happened to wonder into the place by accident.

The stallion had a good laugh at this, pouring Positive a drink that he promptly hoofed over the bits for. He then went on to talk about a little bit of the town’s history, explaining how the lighthouse was no more than four years old and had never even been used.

Asking about this he went on to explain how the town had been a typical small almost familial village until a small vein of gold had been found another five years before the lighthouse had been constructed.

That had naturally caused a gold rush into the small village which caused an implosion in the place’s local economy with new infrastructure popping up as fast as the ponies that streamed into the town. Soon after a dock was built for the ships that had begun appearing by their shore, and after it, as they had no need for money, a lighthouse was built off in the direction said ships had been sailing up from to guide them towards the town and away from the apparently shallow waters surrounding it.

In truth only one boat had ever had any problems there, and even then it was a small collision that had caused nothing more than a scare, but the lighthouse was built regardless, in hopes that if nothing else it would help ensure their growing town’s place on the map. By the time it had been built however what was left of the gold had been thoroughly milked dry and ponies were starting to pack their bags as they made off with all they could carry.

Once the ponies left the town had all its moral sapped out of it and was brought back down to its normal population, plus a good few stragglers. But while nothing else remained, the buildings were still there, as was the lighthouse.

He had told him this tale over the course of about an hour while he served him countless drinks he had never asked for, distracting him from the amount he was guzzling back and the bits he was putting out as he was slowly drawn into the depressing history of the little town.

His memory ceased to function from that post onwards, as he continued to drink down Celestia knows how many drinks and take in the atmosphere.