Chapter 2: Seeds of Unrest

2050 UIT (301 YRC locally)

"And after the Pegasi were exiled from the ground below, they followed their fearless leaders up into the sky, where they established our great nation through the sweat of their brows, such that you and I can enjoy peace for all of our lifetimes."

And so on and so on droned the lecturer in the great hall. As he had for almost an hour previously, although Gabe Sotheby had lost track of the time several minutes ago. He cared very little for such boring topics as history, especially the ancient history of his own race, checkered though it was with "fearless leaders" worthy of admiration. As he gazed out the windows of the hall, Gabe could only long for the chance to be free again, outside of the wretched confines of the school. Free to make his own way through the boundless sky, and free to choose his own course in life.

Gabe was a young male Pegasus who had lived his whole life in the great city of Cloudsdale up here in the sky. Legend said that the city had been founded hundreds of years ago by Pegasi fleeing persecution on the earth, and now served as the central hub for all the actions of his proud race. Although the city's magnificent spires and expansive plazas always warmed his heart whenever he saw them, Gabe had known from a young age that the open sky was his domain. When he flew, he could feel the whispers of the four winds and the magnificent touch of the sun. However he could, he flew as often as possible.

Still, the youth of the city were required to endure a requisite course of education here at the Cloudsdale academy, so even though Gabe would have preferred to be just about anywhere else right now, he was stuck here, though only for a few more months. This year was his last, and in a short while, he would finally be free of this place to choose his own destiny. Though he hadn't given all that much thought to what his future might hold in store for him, there was always work to be done somewhere in the city. As long as it offered him ample free time to explore on his own.

Gabe was suddenly jolted from his daydreams by a sharp poke in the shoulder. Slightly disoriented, he gazed lazily about the room, finding it completely deserted, except for the female immediately beside him; the one who had woke him up. With a sudden start, Gabe recognized her as Alicia Kleever, the star student of his graduating class, and a radiant beauty as well. Although Gabe hadn't given much thought to the relationship scene, the sight of Alicia always made him halt momentarily.

"Gabe," she said in a gentle, unassuming tone, "the day's over. I was just about to leave when I saw you slouched over your desk again. You do want to leave, I suppose?"

Gabe nodded, embarrassed and characteristically tongue-tied in front of Alicia. Gathering his things, he rushed out of the room, shortly leaving Alicia and the entire school behind. When he saw the spire of Cloudsdale's GrandTower, he finally felt peaceful again. From the top of the school's hill, he saw the entirety of the great city spread out around him. To the south was the residential quarter, modestly-sized homes arranged in crisp, neat little rows. Most of the residences were unassuming, but a few were marked as larger and more salubrious than the others, those were inhabited by the more famous scholars or athletes among the population. The east was dominated by the central market of the city, an expansive plaza where merchants congregated to trade in their various wares. There was also a secondary square frequented by philosophers and mathematicians in the populace, where they met to discuss theories and propositions. The western quarter contained the government sectors, dominated by the GrandTower, where the office of the current mayor was housed. Cloudsdale was by and large a peaceful city, and required little government intervention to stay that way. Still, a certain amount of public works were required to maintain local infrastructure, and so a bureaucracy had sprung up to cover such expenses.

But by far the brightest and most hallowed area of the city was the northern quarter, which housed the flight school and athletic training grounds. Each month, an open race was held, for all the population to view, a celebration of the accomplishments of the people. The area was forever dotted with various obstacles and training apparatuses, as the best and brightest worked day in and day out to hone their skills and become the local heroes, if only for the month that they were champion.

But even though Gabe was reasonably skilled in flight, he had never attempted to achieve fame on the track. As far as he was concerned, flying was just an escape, a way to leave behind the trials and tribulations of normal life and glide effortlessly towards the horizon. Now that he was outside, he wasted no time in depositing his belongings in a nearby drop box and taking to the skies, flying a lazy slant away from the city and into the blue beyond.

As he swooped along, Gabe felt the problems of his life melt away. Out here there was just him and the four winds, free to choose their own directions and objectives. Although students his age were warned not to fly too far, Gabe had an infallible sense of direction and had never gotten lost out in the sky, so he went where he pleased.

Cruising along at a gentle pace, he listened to the whispers of the four winds as they whistled past his face, caressing his light mane and whipping on by. Gabe sometimes felt as if the winds were the only entities that really understood him, as no one else back in the city seemed to be able to relate to him. Everyone else was always rushing towards individual problems and objectives, and couldn't be bothered to just stop and enjoy life for a moment. Today, the winds seemed talkative, even a little chatty, although Gabe couldn't quite make out the subject of their restlessness. Gazing around, he recognized landmarks that he had marked for personal navigation. Seeing the elevation of the sun, he realized that it was getting late, and that he would have to make for home soon. Even an exact internal compass could only serve so well when there was no light to navigate by, after all.

Sighing, he turned back towards Cloudsdale. While executing the turn (which he embellished with a small loop), he inadvertently spied the ground below, just a haze of green and blue from this altitude. The learned elders of the city insisted that their people had been forced into the sky by the prejudiced earth-dwellers, and that there would be no sense in ever returning. While Gabe had not considered the subject at much length before, seeing it now, it did not appear to him to be all that bad of a place. Still, life up here in the clouds was perfect. He had a good home, a loving family, a future to look forward to, and most importantly, easy access to his skies.

Landing back atop the hill he had originally departed from, Gabe retrieved his belongings from the drop box, and began making his way south, towards his family's home. Seeing how late it was, he realized that he had probably already missed the nightly meal, and his parents were probably worried about where he could be. Of course, staying out late in the sky was not new for him, but neither of them had quite gotten used to it yet, nor would they ever, from the way things had been going. Breaking into a slight jog, Gabe headed for home.

That day, back on the ground:

There was a small village just on the boundaries of the great forests of the Equestrian frontier. In ages past, it had served as something of a staging ground for followers of the Order of Earth, acting as a go-between for the secretive adepts and the outside world. With the decline of the order, local trade in the area had fallen, but citizens were hopeful with the rise of the Princesses that things would soon turn around.

The Royal Geographical Commission had recently made its visit to the area, finally arriving in this back country after years spent charting the various provinces of the kingdom. The Name Suggestion Referendum had been a subdued affair, with only a scarce few names being suggested. At the moment, it appeared likely that the village would be officially named Ponyville.

Although shreds of optimism remained in the population, the village had fallen on hard times for dozens of years after the formal dissolution of the Order of Earth. The natural mystics had retreated impenetrably into their forest, and no longer emerged to trade with the locals for the wares they required to live comfortably. With the primary local trade now gone, the village economy had collapsed, resulting in a migration towards the new Equestrian cities that Celestia had commissioned. Even so, there were those who remained behind in the town, stubbornly refusing to give up what they had worked for.

Genevieve de Cassie's parents constituted one such family. With a line stretching back untold generations to the founding of the kingdom, Armand de Cassie would have rather died than give up what his family had worked to create. Although his locally produced baked goods could now only be sold locally and barely created enough revenue for his wife and daughter to survive, it was all he had ever known, and so he continued with it. For their part, Violet and Genevieve tended the crops needed to supply Armand's bakery, and lived happily enough in the family's small home.

Today was just another day for Genevieve, tending the family's small plot just outside the village's perimeter. It was nearing time for the harvest to begin, and Genevieve was in among the rows, picking out larger weeds and watching for signs of disease. She felt right with the earth between her hooves, and the sun beating down upon her neck. She might even go so far as to say that she would be happy doing this for the rest of her life, although she did sense that her mother and father wanted more for her than a life spent toiling away to scratch an existence in Ponyville.

As the sun crawled below the trees, she stretched out her back and began picking her way back to the farmhouse. Like many of the buildings in Ponyville, it was a wood-frame building, although it had seen better days. The paint was peeling and the porch wood was slowly rotting away, but it was all that the family had ever known, and Genevieve felt it carried a certain cozy homeliness. As she trudged inside the back door and took in the crisp aroma of the night's meal (already prepared and waiting on the table), she couldn't resist a contented sigh.

Sidling up to the table, Genevieve noted her father and mother were already there waiting for her. Violet and Armand de Cassie made an interesting pair, especially since Violet, despite carrying herself regally in public, was usually stained with dirt from days spent in the field, while Armand, who cared little for appearances and so was much more of a slouch, had to keep himself clean for work and so was usually very presentable.

However, as had become the pattern of late, both had downtrodden expressions on their faces as the evening meal began, and very little was spoken during the course of supper. As Armand took out his pipe following the meal, Genevieve could tell that he was stewing something on his mind. Hoping to initiate some conversation for once, she spoke up softly. "Father, you have had something on your mind all evening. Did something happen at work today?"

It seemed as though Armand had been waiting for an excuse to set off. Now having it, he began. "No my daughter, it is not something that happened that has me upset, it is something that has not happened, in that customers have not been coming. This month has been one of our worst on record; as the population of the town has continued to decline, so has our market. If things keep up in this manner, we won't be able to last much longer."

Violet was always on hand to quell her husband's dark moods, and spoke up now. "Armand, I have heard this sort of language from you before, and we have gotten through our troubles each time. Surely things cannot be as bad as you say." She moved to embrace her husband, but he stood up and gazed out the front window.

"I don't know this time, sweetheart. I was speaking to Franklin the other day and he said that the government would be turning the whole of this area to farmland and expropriating the town. They just don't see anything worthwhile around here anymore."

At this Genevieve stood up. "Surely they can't do that! This land has been with our family for generations!"

Her father offered her a gentle smile, but Genevieve could tell that his eyes remained far off. "Indeed, I would rather die than see this land producing for someone else, but the Princess requires more production for the burgeoning urban centers. Just last year, it was Stockton that got repurposed, and now I fear it is all too real a possibility that it will happen here."

That night, Genevieve thought long and hard about the possibilities for her family's future. If they were forced to give up all that they had ever known, it would ruin them. She did not care for what the Princess or the urban centers required. By rights, they should have the authority to decide what happened to their own land, land that had been tended by her grandfather, and his grandfather before him, and so on back as far as history had been kept. Her family, as well as all the families in the area deserved at least that much respect.