Stories from the Front

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Hey yall, I know there aren't many followers left but I still want to try to involve people. Stormy proposed three separate paths in the post that just came out and only has time to take one. let me know which one you want to see!

From here I have three options:

I can stay course and go to White Tail Woods, (Snowblind, Windswept)

Or, I can circle back toward Cloudsdale.

(Stormy’s mother, canterlot library)

Or I can head south toward the desert.

Dear Diary,

    His name was Heavyhoof, and he’s dead. 

It took me most of the night to get the information out of dad. He didn’t want to talk about it. I wasn’t sure why at first, but he spilled eventually. Heavyhoof left the caravan some ten years ago, apparently for this very reason. He was determined to track down whoever his “foe” was before they had a chance to act. He wanted to be ready, because he’d failed the first time. Dad said he became obsessed with accumulating power and protection, and with his band of roving sellswords he “visited” village after village, looking for old grudges or budding problems to snuff them out before they became a threat. Of course, there was no way to ever tell if he’d succeeded. So he’d be off to the next. He became a conqueror by proxy and, eventually, it caught up with him.

Dad was notably worried when I told him I’d seen the ship.

He was able to give me a few details I didn't have; things he’d picked up from Heavyhoof before he left. Heavy claimed the Cheshire was a liar and the whole thing was a scam. A setup. Heavy, supposedly, killed his foe in Naglfar. “Crushed his skull beneath my hammer,” he claimed. Which sounds like a difficult mistake to make, so I suspect it did happen. But he told dad that, when he left, he just...knew...that it hadn’t done anything. There was a presence in his life that hadn’t left. His quarry, whoever it was, was still out there. He claimed the Cheshire had brought him into false combat, and the only thing that had really happened was his life was now consumed with the knowledge that something out there was growing more powerful by the day, waiting to destroy him. Dad said Heavy couldn't explain -how- he knew, it was just a...thing. A feeling. I understood it though, it’s the same one I got when the ship first appeared. I can feel it even now, calling me to the coast, telling me there’s something I need to do. I don’t have much sympathy for somepony that rampaged across the land invading villages looking for...a hunch..but I can feel the sort of weight he felt. After 10 years of it, I don’t know what state I’d be in. Hopefully better than his.

But I’d hate to risk being wrong.

Dad cautioned me to treat any information from Heavy as dubious at best. He was an old warhorse with old stories and many of them were embellished. But his obsession was not, and dad pleaded caution as I left. He agreed, though, that continuing to research was the best option for now. His understanding of the legend is essentially the same as mine, but as i looked at him, I could tell he too was trying to figure out what sort of error had taken place.

Malachite was subdued through most of my visit, which is unlike her. She loves the camp; runs around like a fennec dipped in coffee every time we visit.  I think she was just trying to not be distracting, she understands the gravity of the situation. But to be honest, I would have appreciated a little joviality.

From here I have three options: I can stay course and go to White Tail Woods, see if I can link up with Snowblind. The deer have many stories they share with ponies, but from different angles. She may have info I can’t get from my own people. If I head north from there I can board the bifrost near here and sail it over to horseshoe bay, where Windswept is. She may have kelpie legends available, and I can find my final destination off the east coast of Equestria.

Or, I can circle back toward Cloudsdale. Mom’s up there right now, taking care of some business. It might be good to get her input. She has access to the royal library in Canterlot too, there’s bound to be something in there. But Canterlot is inland and it’ll be at least three days gone before I’m through with it. That leaves me two, or less, to get to the coast. The bifrost will get me there in time, but it’ll be tight. 

Or I can head south toward the desert. Tezza’s down there. Said she hadn’t finished in Equestria and didn't want to look like she was “fleeing” by going straight home after the hearing. 

I’m not sure I want to see her. I know I’m worried about her reaction. Of everyone, she feels like the one most likely to tell me I’m seeing this thing for exactly the reason I’m trying to avoid.

Which, honestly, might be why I need to see her.

To all trans people that had to spend your holidays, your birthdays, your days of celebration, biting your tongue because the people around you refuse to acknowledge you as you and you have no where else you can go, you have my sympathy and camaraderie. Especially disabled trans people, to whom the “just leave if they don’t like it” line is another layer of impossibility spoken by people who don’t understand that it literally is not an option for everyone. To all who have had to hide their partners from family to protect both their partners and themselves, or to maintain a relationship with their family that is necessary because, without it, you wont be able to afford a place to live, I feel you. To all LGBTQ+ who had to summon every ounce of courage to come out to their loved ones, their families, and their friends, so that they could live an honest life, only to pushed back into the closet because your honesty was inconvenient to them, I see you. I’m sorry. I hope as you hope that they will one day come around, and I fear as you fear that it will never happen.

It is a myth that you only come out once. I think I’m on three now, to the same people. Each time is harder. Each time beyond the first, you know what sort of reaction you’re going to get. Each time they’re going to blame you or resent you or dismiss you, because your need to exist is mildly inconvenient to them. Each time they try to take greater ownership of your body and your feelings, to make you feel like you need permission, or consent, to be who you are.

Understand that you are stronger than they are.

I wish you didn’t have to be, but you are.

Understand that the act of calling you by your preferred name and pronouns requires but a the tiniest fraction of the bravery you need to show every day you present in a world you know, by the nature of its very laws, would rather you not exist than be happy.

Dear Diary,

Princess Twilight’s new library is a lovely space, but it has the issue of being a new collection filled primarily with books given to her by friends and acquaintances. This happens with a lot of sudden large collections. You get that whole “I thought you might like this!” Thing going on, and before you know it you have a collection full of taste-specific material from editors and eras that all share the same biases. She knows it, though. I don’t think she has the staffing yet to adequately correct it. I told the Princess, teasingly, I’d bring her some books I figured she’d hate. She actually seemed excited about it. I’ll have to hold myself to that.

If I survive all this.

I didn’t really tell her that part.

I’m not really sure why. Honestly she’d be a great source of help. Guilt, maybe? Should I feel guilty, if I’m acting under the assumption there’s been a mistake?  Maybe I’m worried she wouldn’t agree. I respect Twilight Sparkle, she’s saved this entire country more times than I’m probably aware of, and I’m aware of more than most ponies give her credit for. I don’t really want her to think of me as a killer. Now or in the future.

Zecora was less willing to open up her collection without an explanation, and I caved to her. Her reaction was hard to read, but she did have a few collections that included the legend in it. Mostly stuff I already knew, but there was one new tidbit that’s given me something to consider: according to her texts, the Cheshire can bend the way things are perceived, and even though he’s pulling one creature from the future to face another in the past, it might not always look that way to the actual people involved. In short: I don’t necessarily know what side of the equation I’m on. There may well be someone on that boat that wanted to trade their lives for -my- destruction and couldn’t. I guess it’s possible. Ive beaten my share of vengeful foes, but the thing is, they -could- beat me. They got unlucky, or I got the first shot. Things worked out for me, but they could easily have worked out for them. That’s not how I understand the legend. It’s supposed to be impossible. Woefully lopsided. No chance for victory without this one sliver the Cheshire offers. That feels unlikely; I’m just not that untouchable.

Kite is looking at me sympathetically. She’s been very affectionate since this began, for which I’m thankful. I could use the support. 

Dear Diary,

I stared at it for, I don’t know. Ten, fifteen minutes maybe. Then on and off for the next hour. It didn’t really take more than that. The legend is right; you just sort of...know. I suppose I could fly out there and get a closer look, but I don’t feel like I need to. It’s clear enough. Or maybe I’m just scared of it. Maybe it offends me. I’m not really sure what, just yet.

I seem to have come to the conclusion there’s some sort of mistake.

Which is arrogant of me, and I know it. But it feels so wrong. I can’t think of what could have gotten me here, facing this situation. Not really anyway. I think I need to talk to a few people, see if there’s any sort of contingency in the stories that talks about a trick, or a test, or some sort of condition that would cause the Cheshire to seek somepony out who didn’t want to...I guess...assassinate someone. Inside, I know that’s the whole point. The Cheshire brings the target back to a previous time specifically to make you face the gravity of your choice from a dispassionate perspective. Because that’s the cost, right? Passionate or dispassionate, dead is dead. The future will be deprived of this person you want to destroy, whether you care a lot about it at the time or not. I’m aware that I’m doing exactly what anypony else would do in this situation: denying it.

But still.

I'm still in the middle of most of it, but its not like people bang down my door for personal details in general so im not too concerned. If a question is a problem itll just be ignored.