“When the will defies fear, when duty throws the gauntlet down to fate, when honor scorns to compromise with death -- that is heroism.” – Robert Green Ingersol
Chapter One
Temple of the Maverick
The ambience was serene. Gentle chirping and croaking pervaded the atmosphere of the forest. The trees swayed as the moist currents pushed them. The sky was cloudy and the air was very humid – typical weather welcomed by a tropical rainforest. It was a traveler’s delight for most ponies.
Under the ambience were subsequent rumblings. As the rumblings got closer, they began to identify more as bangs. Abruptly, puffs of fire and smoke towered up from the forest, engulfing the trees in flames. The puffs got closer with their bangs getting louder. The intensely damaging sounds of crunching and crumbling could be heard below the branches that lit up and fell over. The fiery explosions created a devastating, destructive path through the forest.
--
A cloaked stallion sprinted his way through the forest. His light-blue bangs hovered over his red eyes. A worn-out scarf covered his mouth. He bore a wounded mare on top. Fiery explosions followed them. Vicious stomping and growling overlapped the sizzling bang of each explosion.
“Jewel,” the mare mumbled feebly. “We need to get the jewel.”
“Ma’am,” the stallion struggled to speak in between pacing his breath as he ran frantically. “For your sake, don’t speak.”
By the stallion’s estimates, the beast had stuck close on their trail for already a good half hour. It gave the stallion a sense of accomplishment. He had actually run for thirty minutes straight.
“M-my jewel,” the mare persisted.
“Ma’am,” the stallion grit his teeth with growing aggravation. “I don’t think it’s the best time to be looking for missing jewelry. Now where is that damn rope?”
He could still hear the mare mumbling. Selective hearing blurred it out as he traced his eyes to his left, looking out for the aforementioned ropes. It wasn’t obvious at first, but he could make out a thick strand of leaves and thorns ascending at an angle right next to his path. The trap was ready. A deep, raspy voice hollered out a sadistic laugh.
“I don’t understand,” chuckled the voice with sustained sadism. “Why do you keep running, pony? Your demise is inevitable! I will catch you!”
“Keep telling yourself that,” the stallion mumbled as he stood eyeballing the disguised rope. “Getting closer.”
The stomping got closer and out from the smoke, appeared a vicious dragon that towered about twenty feet. He sustained a wide grin, revealing jaggedly sharp teeth. Puffs of smoke blew out of his nostrils. A chuckle gutter-rolled under his voice. He was gaining up on the stallion.
“You’re mine, pony!” roared the dragon. “And your little female too!”
The dragon spewed out a fireball that darted at the stallion. The stallion felt warmth behind his back and turned, only to find a fast-moving fireball zooming right at him. He hopped to the side to dodge it, panicking for a split second when he felt the mare almost bounce off of him. Using his teeth, tied the cloth that covered her wrapped against his back. He made sure it wasn’t too tight to compensate for the mare’s comfort. Or her discomfort as far as the debacle went. With the rate they were going, the stallion was surprised that she hadn’t fallen off minutes ago.
A rope ran across the stallion’s path. This was it. The stallion looked back over his shoulder and smirked at the dragon. The dragon kept his overconfident grin, continuing his sadistic chuckle. The stallion hopped over the rope and made a hard left.
“Where do you think you’re going?” the dragon laughed. “There’s no point in hiding. There was no point in running to begin with!”
“His overconfidence amazes me,” the stallion mumbled to himself as he reached what seemed to be some kind of lever that was clad in thorns and leaves. When he did so, it raised the rope on the horizon of the path. It went high enough to meet the dragon’s chest. “There was no point in chasing me to begin with!”
The stallion hid behind a tree, gently dropped the mare from his back, and held her tightly. He slouched over to cover her. “Hang on, ma’am.”
Shifting and cracking were heard amongst the branches of the trees. The dragon looked up, confusion wiping away the confidence on his face. Large, sharp-ended logs suddenly appeared from the branches and whacked into the dragon. The stallion was pretty sure he heard a fleshy crunching noise that was followed by a loud, almost earthshaking thud. He didn’t want to leave the mare alone, so the stallion peeked out rather than leaving her to see if he nailed the dragon or not. He did nail him seemingly very well. The stallion could make out a massive, dark pool of blood flowing through the grass and no sound from the dragon.
The stallion went back to the mare. He unraveled the cloth from her face. She was a unicorn with a straight orange-red mane, a dark-purple coating and amber eyes. She looked at the stallion weakly – eyelids barely open. The stallion unraveled the cloth even more. She had a bandaged wound as wide as a football. He had managed to stop the bleeding earlier, but it was still pretty bad. To the stallion’s surprise, the fiasco that had just happened did not resume the bleeding. He removed the bandage and shut his eyes at the incorrigible sight. With a miniscule gleam of hope that was slowly fading, the stallion decided to patch it up again.
“Ma’am,” the stallion said softly. “I’m going to have to disinfect the wound. It will burn. A lot. But the pain will pass before you know it.”
The mare feebly nodded. The stallion completely unraveled the cloak that covered him. His curly, light-blue mane had black streaks that almost coalesced with his black coating. His cutie mark was a shield with wings engraved on them. He also revealed his bandaged pegasus wings. The cloak had pockets. One of the pockets held a bottle. The stallion grabbed it with his hooves, bit into the cap, and twisted it open. The scent of alcohol burned into the stallion’s nose. He reached into another pocket and acquired a gauze. He then doused it with the alcohol.
“Okay, ma’am,” he spoke softly. “I’m going to apply some alcohol. Just relax.”
“Just do it,” the mare told him.
The stallion pressed the gauze against the wound and the mare groaned in pain. He brushed the mare’s mane, comforting her as much as possible – wishing he could empathize with her. He removed the gauze and patched the wound up.
“See?” his voice trembled. His confidence in the mare’s recovery was almost absent. “It wasn’t that bad.”
He wrapped everything up and looked at the mare. She started mumbling again.
“M-my jewel,” her voice trembled worse than his. “We must… find my jewel.”
“Even under these circumstances,” the stallion questioned. “Why do you insist on finding lost material items?”
“No,” the mare’s voice got a bit stronger. “My jewel...must save…Equestria.”
To save Equestria. These were sudden strong words coming from a dying mare. A dying mare with a dying mind.
“You think what I speak…are senseless words of decay,” the mare suddenly continued, as if she read the stallion’s mind. “I promise you…they are not. Please. Trust me.”
The stallion grumbled. His nostrils flared as he thought hard about whether or not it was a good idea.
To save Equestria. The words branded into his head, plaguing his thoughts and his weighing of options.
“How would I know someone else isn’t looking for this jewel?” the stallion asked.
“You won’t,” she replied. “Neither would I.”
The stallion found the entire situation amusing to a dark extent. What was happening? Who was this mare even? He didn’t know who she was. Chances are that she didn’t know who he was. Or how and why they got caught up in this situation in the first place. But somehow he trusted this mare. The trust between them was so smooth and natural.
“Then we will go look for your jewel,” said the stallion.
He saw the mare smile contently with relief as if a big weight was lifted off of her – a dying wish that just might be fulfilled.
“You know the way?” he asked her.
“Can you navigate these forests?” she asked back.
“I’d say I’ve become familiar enough with them.”
--
The temple stood tall. The stallion guesstimated it to tower about eighty feet minimum. But such height combined with colossal width. It was a structure of epic proportions. Leaves and branches have grown onto it – practically becoming one with the temple. It was truly ancient. Intimidatingly ancient. What appeared to be engravings of old deities scattered along a five-foot tall platform that acted as the temple’s base. Their eyes seemed to have been made of worn, purple glass-like material.
“You must go inside,” said the mare.
There seemed to be no entrance in sight.
“I don’t see any way we could go about that,” said the stallion.
“You must climb.”
It turned out what looked like a slight slope at first was a very steep flight of steps that lead up to what looked like a toppling hut.
“I could climb it but I can’t risk leaving you down here, ma’am,” the stallion said with his ears flopping.
“I saw…th-the look on your face,” the mare said – her voice alarmingly weaker. “My worst fear was confirmed. Even…to this very…moment…that fear still lingers. But as I fade away further into oblivion…I’m becoming more…content with it. Who knows? I just…might welcome it.”
The stallion fell silent. He had failed the mare. He wanted to save her but couldn’t. The mare accepting her eventual demise made the stallion feel even worse. It made him feel like he was given a pass – a pass that bore the forgiveness for the inability to save somepony from death. The stallion didn’t want to accept that.
“I’m sorry,” he said.
“You can’t hold yourself…responsible for the inevitable,” the mare said with a weak smile.
“What if I can make the inevitable…” he tried to say, but didn’t know how to finish.
“You are great at what you do,” she said. Her smile became warm. “I could see it…in your eyes. You are a leader. Leadership…burns through your veins. But, as a leader…you can only…do so much.”
“Commander!” a voice suddenly called out from a distance. “Commander Theo!”
The stallion’s ears perked up when he heard his name. He quickly turned to see where the voice was coming from. An earth stallion, with a bow and a quiver containing a few arrows strapped to him, frantically ran toward Theo. The earth stallion slid to a stop and caught his breath. Theo gawked at him with surprise and relief.
“Commander,” the earth stallion said, still trying to catch his breath. “The forest...”
“Calm down, Blue Streak,” said Theo. “Take a breather.”
“The forest, sir,” said Blue Streak, taking up composure. “The fire is spreading through the forest. The villagers from the south…they won’t have a home. We must do something!”
Theo tightened his lip.
“Sir?” Blue Streak asked.
“They already don’t have a home,” said Theo. “This wounded mare and I just came from the south. Whatever news you received is outdated, son. I’m sorry.”
“Word of mouth has been slow,” Blue Streak said dryly – almost suspiciously so. “Less men equal less messengers,” he said, looking down at the mare. “Was she the only one that made it out alive?”
The word alive struck Theo’s heart like an arrow. “Y-yes. How was evacuation from the northern villages?”
“Hectic,” Blue Streak responded. “But otherwise successful.”
Theo nodded.
“Why are you here?” Blue Streak asked, looking up at the temple. Theo noticed how oddly the earth stallion was glaring at the top hut. “What is this place?
“It holds something vital,” Theo responded. “I need you to keep watch over her while I climb up.”
“How are you going to climb up, sir?” Blue Streak asked, taking notice of the steep slope made up of steps that barely looked like steps. “And what do you mean ‘vital’?”
“Take it easy with the questions, son,” Theo said as he felt up the slope that cut through the five-foot platform. “Just do as I say. We have a colossal burden on our hooves.”
“How colossal?” Blue Streak asked.
Theo turned and shot Blue Streak an annoyed look.
“My apologies, sir,” said Blue Streak.
“Alright,” said Theo as he figured how he’ll sustain his grip upon climbing up the slope. “I saw you with a coil of rope earlier. Do you still have it?”
“I do, sir,” answered Blue Streak as he reached into his saddlebag and pulled out the said coil.
Theo tied the rope around the strap that supported the cloth that wrapped the mare onto his back. “Keep an eye out,” he said as he pressed his hooves onto the slope, getting a good grip. “I had to put a dragon down earlier. There’s no telling what other savages will come ravaging their way here. If anything comes out from that forest, you take the mare and you run. You don’t look back. You run.”
“Yes, sir,” Blue Streak nodded.
--
Blue Streak watched his commander climb the temple. He looked back at the forest. A wide, massive cloud of smoke ascended from it. The fire seemed to be getting worse.
“All villages throughout Talicon…will burn to the ground,” said the mare. “The dragons are ruthless. They will…kill every pony…until they find all that they find valuable.”
“They’re savages,” said Blue Streak. “Mercenary dragons that would slit each other’s throats if it got them ahead.”
“And you would…be familiar with that,” said the mare. “Wouldn’t you?”
“What?” Blue Streak said with a cocked eyebrow.
“I’ve met the so-called…archaeologist before,” said the mare. “Multiple times…with…claims that he’d help our villages. But I’ve seen…many like him. And I know the type of stallions…that he hoofpicks.”
Blue Streak tensed up. He knew the moment would come. The archaeologist had said he had walked these lands before. The tribes, at one point, spoke of him as a hero. When Blue Streak was taken under his wing, he immediately saw that the archaeologist was no hero. He was nothing more than a scheming bastard and Blue Streak was able to immediately relate to him. Blue Streak had always taken pride in the fact that he himself was a selfish, greedy prick and admired the archaeologist for having the same pride. He revealed his true dark self to the mare with a sinister smirk.
“He hoofpicks them well,” said Blue Streak, his voice and way of speaking significantly different now – more elegant with a touch of malice. “Because he’s smart. Unlike you and your ilk: sad, pathetic, and primitive.”
“It’s not our…primitive ways that will bring our demise,” said the mare. “Our fall has been destined from the beginning. I only wonder what fate has in store for you.”
“I make my own destiny. I’m in control of my life. My life hasn’t been set up to follow some ridiculous ritualistic routine.”
“You’ve fallen…into the excess of greed and anarchistic munity. You’ve…never known guidance. Someone…like you would never understand.”
“Again, my life isn’t run by priests or witch doctors. I gain my wisdom from the cruel ways of this world. Every pony for themselves. And you want to know the main difference between somepony like me and somepony like you? You praise jewels. You waste their value. I recognize their value. I sell them. I know how to gain from them. You gain nothing by bowing down to them.”
“There’s more to our…items than materialistic appeal. They give life.”
“Like your jewel?” Blue Streak smirked, waiting to see if he had induced fear into the mare.
“Yes,” she answered with a smile that made Blue Streak go uneasy. “…even her.”
She knows that I know. This was not a good sign. Blue Streak was sure he hadn’t been compromised in his task assigned from the archaeologist. Maybe the archaeologist himself didn’t know that the tribes were onto him. He had no choice but to proceed with the mission.
“Very good,” Blue Streak said as he chuckled with faux confidence. He brandished his bow and drew an arrow from his quiver. “But from what I can tell, you’re still the pathetic excuse for a last line of defense.”
“You would…kill him too,” the mare breathed weakly. “Wouldn’t you?”
“Theo?” Blue Streak chuckled again. “His ‘honor’ and ‘leadership’ will die with him. It’s funny. I almost cared about him. But now that you mention destined demises, I know how his life would end. He is a ‘hero’…a ‘legend’ that will never come to be. Because it will be hindered by an arrow to the back from a weasel-y, greedy, backstabbing scumbag like myself.”
“You speak modestly of yourself,” said the mare.
“Well, well,” Blue Streak said. “An attempt, probably your first try, at humor before your death. I’d say that’s humble enough.”
“Don’t do it,” the mare said.
Blue Streak has had previous victims beg for mercy. The mare didn’t seem to be begging for her own life. But rather…
“Your next move will be the most important one of your life,” said a calm female voice behind Blue Streak.
“I’m not-…” was all Blue Streak could sound out before a loud fleshy crunch caused him to jerk violently with his eyes going cock-eyed. Blood began to leak through his nostrils. His nerves gave a final jolt as he flailed dead to the ground…revealing an icicle punctured deep in the back of his head. Looking down at his body was a snow-white unicorn covered in baby-blue tribal tattoos.
“That includes the muscles of your maw,” said the white unicorn.
--
Theo heard Blue Streak and the mare conversing until he heard nothing but silence and what sounded like a thud. He couldn’t look back. He had to focus at that task at hoof. If something was happening down there, he hoped that Blue Streak did what he ordered him to do. There was no denying if that were the case, Theo would fear for his own life. But the mare’s recognition of his leadership induced encouragement and kept him going.
The black pegasus eventually reached the top to find something squirming in sheets. He went over and unraveled it, only to find something more beautiful than a jewel. It was a little dark purple earth foal filly. Theo smiled as he held her and stared into her eyes. “Hello there,” he spoke softly. “She spoke of a jewel and she was right.”
Now he understood why the mare was so determined to come to this temple.
To save Equestria. Theo now holds in his hooves a child of fate. A colossal burden – an understatement beyond just words. It became crystal clear to Theo that the mare was looking for somepony to raise this ‘jewel’. He came along out of nowhere into the dying mare’s life. A life that was a dedicated journey. A dedicated search. Her search was now over.
“Alright, little girl,” he said to the foal as he wrapped her up. “Not many ponies your age get to experience something this. Hold on.”
Theo held onto the foal tightly as he slid down the supposed “steps”. The foal was giggling as they went down their bumpy descent. Half way, he noticed something was off. No. Something was wrong. Very wrong. He made out Blue Streak's lifeless body between the unicorn mare he rescued and the snow-white unicorn that he had never seen before. He landed softly on his rump. He unraveled the cloth and the filly smiled cutely at him. He then turned his attention to the mares.
“What is going?” he addressed them as calmly as possible, afraid to scare the filly in his hooves while in an angry state. “Why does my subordinate have an icicle in his head?” he asked, looking back and forth at both mares. When he looked at the mare he rescued, Theo noticed she was subtly shaking her head – her eyes shifting to the white unicorn mare whom Theo now had his full attention on. “Who are you?”
“I recommend getting to know a pony better before putting him under your command,” the white unicorn spoke softly.
“Answer my question,” Theo gritted his teeth at her, but still keeping his voice as calm as possible. It didn’t seem to work too well. The foal began to squirm a bit.
“My name is Myrle,” the unicorn answered with soft composure, not the least bit intimidated by Theo’s brewing anger. “And the mare you’ve been caring for is Annaka. Thank you. I also want to thank you for finding the foal. I shall bring her to safety.”
“No!” Annaka used all her might to shout. “Don’t do it, Theo. When you looked into that filly’s eyes, you know why you there…why I asked you to be there. Destiny chose you.”
“The prophecy of the destined caretaker was done away with, Annaka,” said Myrle, her voice becoming more coarse. “Yet you and the rest of the minority followed you persist. You remember what the clairvoyant said.”
“Yes I do,” Annaka replied. It was as if she was never dying. Her voice had gained much strength but her distress still showed. Her eyelids being half-closed and her heavy breathing gave it away. “I heard the clairvoyant loud and clear. We all did. Before her throat was slit was left to bleed out into the river. The blade was thrown out with her body. But when it was found…it was discovered that the blade used belongs to your clan.”
“What the hell are you both talking about?” Theo said, scooting away from white unicorn and keeping the filly close.
“Betrayal and corruption is not limited to a civilization like yours, Theo,” answered Annaka. “They are universal. They come unexpected. They are executed by those who make promises,” the wounded mare continued, glaring ferociously into Myrle’s eyes. “Even if your adversity toward the archaeologist is as genuine is mine, Myrle, you are still no better than he is. You would be no better than the beast he’s trying to revive. You are just as destructive as both of them combined.”
“Enough,” Myrtle hissed, her voice becoming raspy. “I won’t stand for any of this. You, soldier, will hoof me the foal. And then I will kill you both quickly and cleanly as much as it pains me.”
“I get it now,” Theo spoke softly. “Blue Streak was not the stallion I thought he was. I’m not afraid to admit that I was fooled. Unlike the ‘feeling-sorry-for-killing-you’ act that you’re putting on right now, his deceit was much better played. But you both have something in common. Something I will make sure this foal will never have. And that’s the trait of being full of shit.”
“Very well, then,” said Myrle, her voice trembling with anger and her eye twitching. “The both of you will go down in history as the ones who tried to hinder the world from being saved,” she spoke loudly as her horn lit up with blobs of water beginning to hover and circle around her. Her horn brightened and the blobs stood still in place – freezing up and taking up the forms of sharp, lethal icicles. “No. You will be wiped from history.”
“Is that what you’re concerned about now?” Annaka said as her horn lit up. “History?”
Theo felt a tug at his strap. In this strap, Theo had a subtly-concealed dagger in a hidden sheath. He did not question how Annaka knew about it. He just went with the flow.
“Why do you even bother, Annaka?” Myrle asked, as the sparkle of her magic seemed to sharpen the icicles, making them even more lethal. “Your desperation is pathetic.”
“Your cluelessness is pathetic,” said Theo. His wing caught the dagger and held it behind his wing. His wings were bandaged, but they were not injured in any shape or form. He had always felt that helplessness and cleverness went hoof-in-hoof together, especially when the helplessness was faked. It was something he learned when taking on dragons like the one back in the forest. “More pathetic than mine.”
The icicles zoomed and aimed precisely at Annaka and Theo, careful not to hit the foal. They shattered just inches away, each icicle individually creating a shockwave against a purple magic shield formed by Annaka who immediately slumped over.
“Again,” Myrle said, beginning to form another set of icicles. “Pathe-…” Se choked and gurgled, tasting blood as a sharp pain sunk deeply into her chest. “Well done,” she said, as she smiled with bloodied teeth. “Very well done.”
The white unicorn slumped onto the ground, with her breath escaping her and Theo’s dagger cleanly plunged into her chest. Theo’s wing was stretched forward in front of him. There was an art behind a pegasus throwing a blade with his wings. It was an art that Theo perfected.
Theo’s first instinct was to check if the foal was okay. It was as if the conflict never happened for her. Her little hoof cutely bumped against Theo’s face. He chuckled as he nuzzled the foal, making her giggle. Something was wrong. At the corner of his eye, he noticed there was no movement from Annaka. He completely turned to her. To his horror, he saw Annaka’s lifeless expression. Her eyes were rolled up and her mouth was open. Annaka was dead. She had used her last bit of energy on the shield.
Theo’s lips quivered and his eyes began to tear up. Annaka gave her life to ensure the safety of the foal. With his wing, he took his cloak and covered the purple unicorn. He began to break into a sob. It felt like he had known her all his life. Yet the only time they had spent together was no more than an hour. He regained his composure and looked at the foal who was clueless to the fact that she was surrounded by a conflict of life-and-death.
With his wing, Theo saluted over Annaka. “You will live on in your legacy,” he began. “And I will make sure that legacy survives. And I will ensure that when she grows up, the torch will pass on to her. And rightfully so.”
Theo proceeded to wrap the foal comfortably onto his back and that’s when he saw it. He looked into the foal’s eyes. An image of Annaka’s face – a face he would never forget – popped into his mind. The same exact eyes. It added even more clarity to everything.
My jewel...must save…Equestria.
This foal was Annaka’s daughter. The same amber eyes and the same purple coating. The only difference was the foal’s black, wavy mane.
“You know what’s a good name for you?” Theo said as he looked at the foal’s adorable face. “You’re the best jewel anypony can find. The most valuable one there is. I hereby, little one, name you Julia. Julia – daughter of Annaka and Maverick of the world. The one to right the wrongs. To be unknown amongst the unknown. To be mysterious. To do well…”
THE MYSTERIOUS MARE DO WELL
