Кусочек неба / A Piece of Sky: Chapter 1

[right][i]"Oh, young ponies! The mane's high in clouds, the tail stuck in a mire."[/i]
— Some old pony[/right]

psychoshy 27.06.18 в 22:51

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psychoshy 27.06.18 в 22:48

I wonder how my pa had come up with the idea to call me a perfectly Pegasus name. Firefly the Earth Pony. What a ridiculous thing. I had a fiery red mane and green coat (a pretty terrible combination, if you ask me), but it was not a reason to call me something like that. Such a name would be very suitable for a luscious pegasus mare with sharp features of body and a bold look. Those mares were usually drawn in the magazines that some ponies hid under their beds. But I was a simple earth pony, and that name was my burden.

psychoshy 28.06.18 в 01:43

I had never seen my mom. My pa used to say she had gone to Celestia and left me to look after things here on the earth. Those rare times when he appeared at home were accompanied by a continuous stream of consciousness coming from his mouth, and a similar stream of strong apple cider returning back into. "Look how you've grown up! You're sure to get a cutie mark, and when you do, you'll be able to handle all things yourself. I think I'll retire then. And all that's left for me will be to wait for grandchildren..." After that he would leave to his room, and his sonorous snoring meant the end of my suffering on today. He worked as an archi... ark... In short, he was a pony who told pony builders how to build big solid houses. So he constantly hanged out in different cities for months and only sent home postcards and sumptuous gaudy dresses either too large or too fancy for me to wear.

psychoshy 28.06.18 в 01:59

In our small town of Riverhooves, my mom's family had an antiquated tavern smelling of any possible smell you could imagine. For generations it had been visited by tired pony workers from nearby farms to listen to the ancient mechanical jukebox with some old record for a thousandth time, or to the completely untalented local 'singer' with a funny name High Octave. She sang just so terrible that there were rumours about her music cutie mark, like, it was a drawn picture and Octave was in fact supposed to milk cows. But there were no other ponies around willing to perform literally for thanks, so we were not ones to complain.

psychoshy 29.06.18 в 13:57

I hated this place. My family had been attached to it throughout all its history. My mom's, grandma's and even great-great-grandma's cutie marks were associated with sale of cide: either a glass of the foaming liquid or a keg with the open tap. Ever since I had reached the age of reason, I prayed to Celestia every night for my cutie mark to be different. Even a piece of coal. Even a frog. But not glasses and kegs. I did not want to spend my entire life sitting in this sweat-reeking hole and listening to stallions who once again (one thousandth time!) discussed High Octave's bountiful flanks. But it was my home, and time after time I wore the shabby apron, took a tray in my teeth and got cider to serve, enduring cheers or paternal pattering over my neck from our visitors. Or admonitions of my grandmother who ran the tavern until I was older. But I was already a big pony, and 'oldering' was soon.

psychoshy 28.06.18 в 07:11

However, this was my main trouble. I was already a big pony—with no cutie mark. At first foals at school had made fun of me, but their enthusiasm subsided after a few hard smacks at some noses. I was not going to earn a reputation of a submissive innkeeper. The late appearance of cutie marks was actually a common phenomenon for ponies. So our teacher Mr Turtle (nopony knew his real name; he had probably forgotten it himself and so was called Turtle for his absolutely bald head, wrinkled mouth and crooked neck) had gathered a traditional Cutie Mark Finders Group from 'the late foals'. Getting into one of these groups was as bad as repeating a year at school. While all your peers were learning their professions, you would sit in one place and wait until you got that blasted symbol on your flanks.

psychoshy 29.06.18 в 14:58

Once a day the teacher gathered the whole CMFG and invented some activities for us. It could be anything from peeling potatoes to swimming in the river back and forth. This was supposed to help us discover our talents somehow. And sometimes it did. For instance, the day before yesterday we were collecting herbariums in the woods when one little filly got a mark of a cherry. It turned out that she was hungry and began to eat berries from a bush of wild cherries. And nothing more. After that, everypony doubled their ardour in daily charades. Everypony including me.

psychoshy 29.06.18 в 15:25

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psychoshy 27.06.18 в 22:54

Today we had to go through apple orchards and collect some beautiful pebbles on the rolling grass-covered hills which stretched as far as an eye could see. There grew nothing but tall grass, otherwise ponies would have planted apple trees in the area long ago.

psychoshy 29.06.18 в 15:46

Having put some food in my saddle bag, I jumped down the stairs and headed to the doors of the tavern.

psychoshy 29.06.18 в 15:47

"Bye, grandma! I'm going to the CMFG. I'll be late."

psychoshy 28.06.18 в 00:01

"Wait a second... Look what one gentlecolt left for you. Must've been passing through. When saw you on the photo, he immediately started asking. And then gave me this, said, 'give it to her, it's a gift'." My grandma had an oblong paper bundle in her teeth.

psychoshy 29.06.18 в 15:53

I was used to gifts. The regulars always brought me something, mostly sweets or rough wooden dolls. I kissed my grandma on her cheek, shoving the bundle into my saddle bag as I rushed out.

psychoshy 29.06.18 в 16:33

The day was beautiful. Pegasi—our only weather pegasus, to be more precise—did as much as possible clearing the sky of clouds. Still, hanging just above the town was a tiny cloud where you could spot the sleeping hero. Probably tired under the sun. Lucky guy.

psychoshy 29.06.18 в 16:51

I galloped along a paved path towards apple orchards, breathing in the full lungs of warm, flower-scenting air. I passed by several farms with pony workers (who waved to me as one and called for a glass of cold juice) and plunged into the shade of the road passing through the orchard. There was stupefying fragrance of flowering apple trees, and buzzing of insects filled the air as birds twittered and chirped in tree branches. But today I was not supposed to enjoy a glass of cold juice in the shade of an apple tree. Today I had to collect beautiful pebbles among dry needles of grass under the scorching sun. Who knew, maybe I would suddenly get a cutie mark of a pebble collector. Or a bricklayer. Or—

psychoshy 29.06.18 в 17:04

[i]TWANG![/i]

psychoshy 28.06.18 в 00:03

Out of nowhere, a thin rope was pulled in front of my hooves. I stumbled at full gallop, ploughing my chin along good one and a half meters of solid road earth. From behind the nearby apple trees I heard a muffled snicker, and then I saw the ugly muzzle of whom I least wanted to see right now. Prickly Bush! This nasty red colt was of my age, but he had gotten his family cutie mark of a bitten apple long ago. His family owned this orchard.

psychoshy 29.06.18 в 17:17

"Hahahaha, you should've seen yourself dragged by that! Come down from your la-la-land and better check out what's under your hooves! Wanna break your legs? Wanna be useless then? Yeah, you're useless right now—without a mark, that's for sure! Right, guys?"

His brothers, two red colts no less ugly in the appearance, came out of bushes. But they were younger and hurried to hide behind his broad body, away from my hooves.

"Oh, guys," Prickly continued, "but what if her cutie mark is a broken leg, eh?" This was followed by a new burst of neighs and laughs.

psychoshy 29.06.18 в 17:20

I calmly got up, dusted myself off and picked up my bag. I had already learned not to pay attention to their jokes at kindergarten. Jerks, what could I do.

psychoshy 29.06.18 в 17:54

"Why so fast! Isn't this yours?"

psychoshy 27.06.18 в 23:07

I turned around. Prickly had the paper bundle with my gift in his mouth.

psychoshy 29.06.18 в 17:56

"You dirty roach! Give it back!"

psychoshy 27.06.18 в 23:04

"Good luck cathing up, lanky! Hahaha!" he laughed and broke in a full career down the road.

psychoshy 27.06.18 в 23:07

I could run faster than him, but my forelegs were hurt after the fall and my chin was not going to stop aching. Luckily, this fool chose the path I needed: right to the place of our meeting with Mr Turtle. So I did not chase the thief at the top of my speed, just trying not to lose him out of sight.

psychoshy 29.06.18 в 18:05

The teacher was already standing in a clearing near the edge of the grove, surrounded by the other foals from the CMFG, when we rushed past him.

psychoshy 29.06.18 в 18:14

"G-Good morning, children. Good morning, Prickly Bush, what brings you he... Good morning, Firefly, where are you all... Ohh these..." the old pony only managed to croak.

psychoshy 29.06.18 в 17:59

"I'll get to work just as I'm back, Mr Turtle, don't wait for me!" I shouted and started to catch up with my offender. The prospects of a long run under that kind of sun's heat and through that kind of terrain did not appeal to me.

Seeing that he did not have a chance coming off, Prickly suddenly stopped and tossed my bundle into the tall thorny bushes atop one of hills. Then he rushed to the other side. What a bastard... Well, I could beat all heck out of him on the way back.

psychoshy 29.06.18 в 18:23

Where did he throw this bundle... Cutting myself with prickles from head to hoof, I got out of another dull bush. No no, only not to the top... Yeah. There was it. He had thrown it into the most upper and thorny bush. Oh, he was going to get a double portion for this.

psychoshy 29.06.18 в 18:40

I worked my way through the tenacious claws of bushes and finally saw my cherished bundle before me. I wondered what was it. Hope not a rag doll or a big candy... I bent my head to pick up the thing which cost me so much suffering and suddenly felt a choking attack. I was staring into the darkness. Half a step away from me, right in the hilltop ground, was a round blackening hole. I looked into the hole, and I realized I could not see the bottom. This hole was very deep, and I definitely would not want to fall there. But then, as if reading my thoughts, the earth under my forehooves failed and I, with a shriek, collapsed into the bottomless abyss.

psychoshy 29.06.18 в 18:40

By Celestia's ears, what was so wrong with me...

psychoshy 27.06.18 в 23:01

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psychoshy 27.06.18 в 22:54

My left hind leg was unbearably sore. The other was so numb that I could not move it. How long had I been here? Okay, just open the eyes. But wait. My eyes were already open! But why could not I see anything? Oh. Actually, I could see my stretched forehooves. So I was not blind. Good thing. Oh, right, I was in that scary hole. I remembered the fall and shuddered. Then I looked up and gasped. There was a small circle of pitch black sky adorned with a generous scattering of very bright stars. I have not seen such stars in the town for sure. I wonder why they looked brighter from here. A wave of very musty and damp air rolled over me from the front. So it was not just a vertical pit; there had to be a cave or something.

psychoshy 01.07.18 в 18:40

Having overcome a desire to think about what could live in this cave, I worked on my legs. The right was warmed up, and I could move it freely, but the left one felt like dead and hurt just awful. I ran my hoof across it in the darkness and became aware of a pretty unpleasant thing. My leg just above the ankle was pierced by a metal rod sticking out from under the ground at a hoof distance from my torso. Ugh, what could have happen if I fell a little to the right. My luck I did not. The rod was not that thick and long, so I decided to take my leg off this thing. It was more painful than I thought. The piece of iron was ribbed, and my every move was followed by a terrible pain. But I was a strong filly, so I jerked my leg and finally took it off. It hurt. Much. So much so that I almost saw stars. I lost my conscience.

psychoshy 01.07.18 в 18:49

When I woke up, I knew I was really thirsty. My throat was so parched that I could not move my tongue. I turned on my side and saw that the stone with the metal thing was dark maroon from my dried blood. Screw me up... Pulling up the injured leg, I bandaged it with a handkerchief from my bag, which previosly was wrapped around two large cupcakes and a huge sandwich with something vegetable. Grandma did her best. The bottle of milk did not break too. Thank Celestia!

psychoshy 01.07.18 в 19:38

I eagerly take a sip from the bottle, and then I suddenly realized that I could see everything perfectly. Now it was a day. The afternoon sun shone from above. Another day. Were they looking for me. Grandma would probably think I had spent the night in the woods with CMFG while they and Mr Turtle would think I had long gone home. Totally screw up…

psychoshy 01.07.18 в 19:42

The following afternoon I just lay on my back and screamed as loud as I could, "HELP! I'M HERE! HALLOO!" But, apparently, either there were no searches, or they did not hear me. With exhaustion taking upon me, I ate half a sandwich and one cupcake. It gave me strength and a slight impulse to think. Before it got too dark, I needed to look around. What look at, though? Above my head there was a piece of dazzling blue sky, from which I was separated by a vertical shaft ten ponies tall. Moreover, the shaft was clearly of artificial origin. Its top had collapsed and I had fallen onto a piece of the debris. And that piece of iron was a rebar. There were no concrete buildings in Riverhooves, but my pa built large blocks of flats in cities from this material, so I knew what it looked like.

psychoshy 01.07.18 в 19:55

And right ahead was a cave. Rather a concrete tunnel, too, but so thickly covered with sticky green weed or algae that it looked like a real cave which older foals would scare younger with. Time and time again waves of musty moist air blew from there, forcing me to hold my breath. Going into the cave made no sense—it was dark, pitch dark. Sunlight did not reach that far.

psychoshy 01.07.18 в 20:35

I made my injured leg more comfortable, lying on my back as I stared at the sky. What was it like to be a pegasus, I wonder? Flying wherever you want, chasing clouds, zapping lightnings into the tails of townsponies on holidays or just pouring a rain on your whim. You could fly up to the highest mountain and shout some bad word at the top your lungs, and it would echo back and forth thirty times. With these thoughts, I dozed off again.

psychoshy 01.07.18 в 21:03

Upon awaking, I realized I had made a big mistake. The sun had set long ago, and the sky was painted in a thick dark blue colour. Since there were no moon or stars, I could not even make out my hooves. Dammit! I would have to spend another night here. I massaged my bandaged leg and went around with the forehooves in search of the bundle that had started all this fuss. The bundle was not very big, but quite heavy. Was it a stone in it, or what? Oh, if so, I would show that joker what was called a good sense of humour. But as I unwrapped the paper, I found out it was not a stone. It was a metal cylinder expanding from one end, with a leather strap to attach to a hoof. It was a flashlight. Merciful Celestia, I had a magic flashlight!

psychoshy 01.07.18 в 21:22

It was an insanely expensive and rare thing in our region, as well as all electric and magical stuff. I had seen them only in illustrations of textbooks before, and here I had my own flashlight in my hooves. I fiddled it and as I pressed the power button, a very bright burst of light sliced my trap through. This was not like a kerosene lamp—not even a bonfire! The light was so intense that I could spot the smallest cracks in the concrete, and at the same time it did not throw shadows, as if bypassing small objects. A purely fantastic thing. Fiddling it in my hooves, I finally remembered to illuminate the mouth of the cave that was nearby all the while. The flashlight lit up an infinitely long vaulted concrete corridor, weeds growing all the way ahead. The floor was covered with a layer of water streaming down from the cave walls.

psychoshy 01.07.18 в 22:06

Okay. Think, Fly, think. If there was a wind, there would be another way out. And if there was another way, I had a chance to get out. Lying here and waiting for salvation was too risky. If I could not have spotted the hole at my hooves, others just would not notice it behind the bushes.

psychoshy 30.06.18 в 11:40

I scrambled to my hooves. To all three. As I did not control my bandaged left hind leg, I had enough strength only to keep it close to the body. Think, Fly. You got half a bottle of milk, one cupcake and half a sandwich. So... I shove the sandwich into my mouth and thoroughly chewed it, feeling a little stronger. A sip of milk gave me confidence. All hopes for lack of pits like that one underwater! I passed under the hanging canopy of algae and hobbled forward through the entrance of the cave. The floor here turned out to be made of a thick metal lattice, now hidden by water. Walking... no, hobbling was easy even on three legs. Soon I got tired of stopping every five steps to raise my hoof with the flashlight to shine forward, so I gripped it in my teeth.

psychoshy 01.07.18 в 22:42

The cave seemed to last forever. But soon I bumped into a turn to the left, then to the right, and to the left, and to the right again. Were they kidding? Why all these loops? But after the last turn, I found out that my misadventures were not over. There was a staircase down ahead, followed by a half-flooded corridor. Heck yeah. I put the bag on my back and went into the water. It was surprisingly warm—pleasant, even. The 'pool' was about twenty hoofsteps from one side to the other. When my hooves touched the bottom, I could not help but feel that it was all cluttered up with some branches or pieces of dishes. Something crunched underwater at each step. I had to carefully choose where to put a hoof if I did not want to get hurt by some pointed snag.

psychoshy 01.07.18 в 23:13

When I reached the opposite staircase, I went up halfway and shook myself. The corridor ahead was above the water level and, first of all, dry. With the flashlight in my teeth, I rummaged along the bottom of the 'pool' to snatch one of those things and see what it was. But as I pulled my hoof back and shone on it, I saw no snag or dish. I was looking at a pony skull.

psychoshy 01.07.18 в 23:17