May 21, 2:35 PM

Follow the Wisp 92%

Wayfinder descended the maintenance steps. This building held the practical sciences, so most of its internal space was occupied with various labs and lecture halls. She had fond memories of a class in the observatory there on the fourth floor, though the wisp wasn’t going in that direction.

Soon enough they were back in common areas. Here the building endured better than the surrounding areas. Nature crept inside only where the occasional window was cracked open—and even then, the thick steel and glass did a better job than the flimsier construction of apartments and homes around the school.

Ruby muttered unhappily about the route, but followed along anyway. Even when the Wisp ignored the doors leading out onto the ground floor, and instead went for the basement entrance instead.

“What are you thinking,” Ruby began. “Giant trapdoor spider? Or maybe one of those monsters I saw when I got sick. They’ve had to get more creative to find food when the place got evacuated.”

“I’m thinking…” she took a deep breath, forcing herself to stay calm. “You didn’t have to come with me, Ruby. Nothing forced you to follow me into the Overgrowth. You could’ve stayed safe in the Barracks until I got back. If you don’t believe in what I’m doing, don’t come with me.”

Ruby stopped by the door, adjusting a flashlight headlamp on her head with a little magic. She could at least manage levitation now, even if she refused to practice anything more advanced. “I could. But then you’d be on your own when you walked in here. You’d blunder into something and get yourself eaten. Like the aforementioned giant trapdoor spider.”

Wayfinder rolled her eyes, then pushed the door open. Granted, she couldn’t do so with any dramatic displays of magic, given the effort the teleport cost her. “I’m positive a pony like us made this spell.” She gestured at the wisp, which seemed to be growing impatient the longer they stood there, bobbing up and down with increased energy. “There’s a structure to it that’s hard to explain, but… if you’d practiced more magic with me, you would get it.”

The two faced off in silence for another moment, before the wisp apparently got tired of waiting and bobbed away from them down the hallway.

Wayfinder scurried after it. She briefly lit her horn by instinct, then winced at the burst of pain that followed. She would have to rely on her friend and the wisp for light.

Thankfully Ruby did join her, though obviously skeptical.

There was no reason to be in that case. The wisp directed them not to a lair but a tunnel, one of the others connecting different parts of the university, broad and carpeted with the inoffensive, “public area” colors she might expect from a thoroughfare, though she hadn’t used this one personally.

“I don’t understand why you’re indulging the disease so much,” Ruby said, after five minutes or so of walking in silence. “There’s nothing forcing you to play along. You don’t have to accept its transformation. You don’t have to use what it does to us. Don’t you worry that accepting ‘magic’ means giving up a piece of your humanity? Like when they find the cure, it won’t work on you because you’ve got that—” she gestured at Way’s flank. “That thing. You’ll be stuck.”

Way shrugged again. “There won’t ever be a mundane cure to this, Ruby. No medication can take an equine and make them into a primate. Nothing that will ever exist in my lifetime. But if there turns out to be a magical cure, then I’m not sure why it wouldn’t work. It would be magic.”

And besides, Wayfinder wasn’t sure she would even want a cure anymore. Magic itself was something incredible, something she didn’t think she would ever want to give up. The inconvenience of not having fingers or hands was itself rapidly becoming irrelevant as her power increased.

Soon there was light ahead, bright enough to eclipse the wisp they were following. The tunnel reached a set of steps, which Way realized she did recognize. This was the student services building, the single largest enclosed space on campus. And there were voices coming from inside it.

Way slowed as they approached, feeling that strange yet familiar twitching atop her head as her ears moved to follow the sound.

Voices. Men and women, children and older. The murmur of conversation Way sometimes heard in the Isolation Zone marketplace. Except there was an obvious pressure, a tension of their involuntary confinement, and the looming luxury hotels reminding them that some infected were more valuable than others.

Not here. Here in a place so dangerous the Isolation Zone employed flamethrowers to keep it from spreading, she heard giggling, shouts, a parent chiding their children for speaking a little too loudly…

“No way,” Ruby rested a hoof on Way’s shoulder, trying to stop her. “This can’t be here. Way. Something fishy as hell. We are not going up there.”

Way tugged free of her. The little wisp they’d been following vanished up the steps, leaving only a little dancing after-image before fading entirely.

“I don’t know how it’s here,” she replied. “But I know I’m going to see it.”

She advanced up the steps, leaving Ruby behind her. Slowly, the enormous glass atrium space came into view around them. Here were facilities meant to service an enormous student body, with a dozen quick-service restaurants and seating on two levels suited for thousands of people. Way had fond memories of the place, as well as awful ones, finding a quiet corner of the second floor to cram for an exam before heading to the testing center, or discovering she would have to donate plasma again to eat until the funds for next month hit her meal card.

Very little of that original identity remained, except for the general layout. Instead, every storefront and shop had been transformed.

The builders had used far more natural ingredients than the metal and plastic look of the Isolation Zone favela. The restaurant signs were mostly gone, (except for the Taco Bell, which was still lit and had ponies operating it), with storefronts transformed by wooden planks, vines, and other pieces of hastily-cut wood.

But far stranger than the houses and homes they’d built were the ones living here. Ponies, obviously—hundreds of them, perhaps a thousand. Ruby couldn’t tell from the steps. And of course, not all were actually ponies, as the spellbook defined them. Some were birds like Sam, or things that looked almost like ponies, but clearly weren’t. The same variety of creature that lived in the Isolation Zone.

“Another new arrival!” Called a voice—middle aged, northeastern, and amplified by speaker. She turned to look, and found—more or less what she expected. Swept-back blonde hair, middle-aged mare, with a microphone headset resting on the table in front of her and nearly as large as she was.

Because she was about three inches tall, with wings far larger than she was, and plexiglass walls around her like those Way used to see at checkout counters during the worst of COVID. No wonder she needed the microphone. “Scratch that, two new arrivals. And that one has a gun. Mayor, paging Mayor. We have armed new arrivals. Please report to the central staircase.”

Ruby emerged from the steps behind Way, and hastily tucked the gun away. Her eyes followed the sound, and soon found the speaker a few feet from where Way was standing. “Wait, I’m not some psychopath. We just came from the forest.” She lowered the handgun into her pack, making a show of buckling it closed again. “See? We’re not here to hurt anyone.”

“Mayor, please report to the central steps,” she repeated, looking up at Ruby as though her words had done little more than annoy her. “We have—”

Way saw him before she heard him—a warm yellow pony, with white socks on his hooves and a bright orange mane. He’d even acquired a cape since their last meeting, buckled in the front. He slid to a stop nearby, only slightly out of breath.

“Welcome to… Starhall,” he said extending a hoof towards Ruby first, as she was standing closer. Ruby took it, touching her hoof against the outstretched limb in the way ponies used to imitate the gesture.

“Whatever brings you to Starhall, you’ll find a welcoming community here. Those who leave the Isolation Zone behind usually think—” he trailed off as he lifted his hoof to Wayfinder, then tilted his head to the side. “Wait. Have I seen you before?”

Way touched his hoof and grinned. “We sure did! I know you didn’t get a chance to stay and talk, but… I owe you. Saved my life, technically.” And you’re the entire reason I’m in here. But she wasn’t about to openly admit as much to a stallion that was essentially a stranger from his perspective.

So she turned slightly to the side, and nodded towards the scrolls protruding from her pack. “And taught me how to make these. Glad we didn’t need any of them to get in here…”

The stallion wasn’t looking at the scrolls, though. He followed her motion, eyes lingering on the mark.

Long enough that Ruby made an annoyed clicking sound with her tongue, pushing Way slightly behind her. “Excuse us, sir. Was there something else you wanted to say?”

She glanced over her shoulder as she said it, whispering into Way’s ear. “Honestly. You just let guys stare at your ass?”

Of course there was no way a pony standing a few feet away wouldn’t overhear. He blushed, ears folding instantly backward and tail tucking between his legs. “Right! Humans. Prudish about your anatomy. Apologies. I… I was noting her cutie mark. Which makes you the third individual with such a mark I’ve ever encountered. And the first with a distinctly magical quality to your special talent. Have you discovered what it represents? How did you acquire it? There are—”

“Hey, mayor,” said the tiny pony-creature from inside her case, just a few feet away. “Deep breaths, she’s just a pretty girl. You’ve seen those before, remember? You’re being the mayor right now.”

“I’m… of course.” He stiffened, then flicked his tail behind him. “The two of you do not look starving, or… much like you fled the authorities. Well-supplied, and at least one of you had magic strong enough to draw the village’s detection spell to lead you here. You’ll both be quite welcome in Starhall.” He nodded at the gigantic ceiling of layered glass and steel, deflecting the sun into many angles. “You can see why we gave it the name. University Dining Hall just didn’t have the same ring to it.”

Ruby spoke up, a little louder now. “Why would you people build here? We almost got eaten by tree-wolves on the way in!”

“Yes, well—” Sunburst straightened, seeming to grow more confident. “The hazards of an Everfree environment are part of what makes this location so desirable. They can be mitigated with the right application of magic, creating an environment safe from—more pernicious forms of hostility. Even if you didn’t set out to find a new home, you will probably find it preferable to the environment you left. Assuming you’re…”

He tilted his head sideways. “Did you come here to join us? Or did you have something else in mind?”

Wayfinder looked past him—at the village of ponies sheltering in the enormous building. She didn’t know enough to make a move, it was true. There could still be hidden dangers here—no freedom would be worthwhile if it came at the cost of seeing her friends eaten by the monsters living here. But if anypony said they could keep people safe, Sunburst probably knew a way.

More importantly, Hazel was still back in the Isolation Zone. Even if she did stay, she would have to go back and retrieve her. She might not be a blood relative, but at this point Wayfinder was committed to protecting her until Hazel’s brother or some other real family member appeared. Her parents were both dead, so that might never end up happening…

Still, when compared with the way ponies were living in the isolation zone, what she saw here had its advantages. These ponies weren’t slowly running out of supplies, depending on a weakening federal government for stability.

1. Tell Sunburst she’s interested in staying if she likes what she sees, but will have to make a trip back to retrieve her sister.
2. Refuse to join, but try to learn as much as she can before leaving.