Dark Ponies: The Fragility of Souls

I landed hard on my left flank, the impact on solid stone forcing the breath from my throat. I lay there for what seemed like hours, yet it could easily have been mere seconds. Somehow I managed to stand, my left side thankfully not seriously damaged. That’s when I noticed I was alone. There was no sign I had met that curious human, or even carried any weapons. My treasured staff had shattered into fine dust, settling gently in the faint breeze, the residue of the powerful arcane held within leaving a familiar tingle down my spine before fading completely.

Looking around, I observed my surroundings, taking note of the sheer drops almost completely surrounding me before taking a tentative step forwards into the soft, knee deep grass, the long fronds brushing against my coat, crunching slightly under-hoof.

Continuing forwards into the inky landscape, I moved towards the only part of this desolate area not threatening to drop me into an abyss should I misstep. A single shaft of light beckoned me forwards, the stone arch it fell upon glinting softly, lighting my way. I crossed under the arch, the grass rising to obscure my view. From what I could see, I was stood in another large, open area, thick grass digging into my flesh, tugging at my fur. I could hear creatures scuttling about in the grass, moving slowly towards me cautiously. I stood my ground, horn lowered and ready to defend myself should they consider me a threat.

Minutes passed as we stared each other down, neither of us moving either towards or away from the other. I could see numerous wide, curious eyes shine back at me as they watched my lack of movements, the tilting of their heads their only movements. Cautiously, I moved forwards, jumping back startled as they scattered, whimpering as I moved. Deciding the timid creatures were no threat, I moved forwards cautiously, the grass obscuring my view. There did not seem to be any sheer drops in this area, tall cliffs of white stone preventing the strange creatures contained within from plummeting to their untimely demise.

As soon as I found the exit, I bolted out, the eyes of the countless creatures making my skin crawl beneath my thick fur. I skidded to a halt in front of another thin yet perilous drop, a small waterfall crashing thunderously to the ground somewhere far beneath me.

I felt the ground quiver slightly beneath my hooves, the vibrations running from my left to right. I turned my head to investigate, my breath catching in my throat as I saw a trail of large footprints etched deep in the black mud. Warily, I trotted past them, crossing the unstable looking wooden bridge, placing each hoof carefully down, ready to jump should the structure collapse under my weight.

Thankfully, I made it across without even a creek; the shabby looking thing was surprisingly sturdy. As my back hooves graced solid ground once more, I looked up. Before me stood a quaint little hut, the warm glow from a fire seeping from a small window, providing a small relief from the cold blackness of the rest of this strange world I had traversed prior. Cautiously, I nudged the door with a hoof. It did not yield, so I gripped it gently with my magic, pulling it slowly open before peering into the room that lay beyond.

Inside sat three old ladies dressed in matching red robes, their wrinkled faces illuminated by the fire crackling gently in the fireplace. Two of them sat around the table, jet black glasses sat empty before them as they regarded me with milky white eyes, rotten teeth bared as they chuckled softly to themselves. The third sat away from the table, facing the fire. Her back was turned to face me, the firelight casting her shadow across the room, connecting her to me.

“Greetings, young undead.” The hag by the fire croaked, her voice echoing harshly in the small room. “We’ve been expecting you.”

‘You have?’

“Telepathy, what an interesting skill you have there.” She chuckled as she ignored my remark, her red robes fluttering as she turned to face me, shadows cast harshly across her aged features. She beckoned me to join her by the fire. Uneasily, I obliged, my hoof steps surprisingly loud against the soft wood underfoot, all three of the hags grinning as their unseeing eyes followed my path. I sat by the fire, my fur grateful for the first warmth it could remember. “Who are you, young one?”

‘I am Ayrle, a sorcerer from the East.’

“Sorcery, eh?” I nodded, affirming via telepathy as I was unsure of the intactness of their sight. The hag before me beckoned to a fourth younger woman whom had just descended a small flight of stairs I had previously not seen. She was also dressed in red, although her clothing was a deeper colour worn as a form fitting dress instead of loose robes. She bowed awkwardly to me, evidently surprised by the strange, brightly coloured equine sat nonchalantly by the fire. I lifted a hoof in a casual wave, causing her brow to wrinkle in confusion.

“Strowen, this… horse is a sorcerer?” The one by the fire chuckled, nodding in response. “I see… I’m afraid I do not posses any armour in equine size.”

‘I see. I should be fine without, provided of course, I could get a staff?’

The young lady’s eyes widened slightly before nodding and heading back up the stairs. I shifted slightly whilst waiting for her return, rotating my body to warm the other side of my body, the warmth returning life to my cold bones. Eventually, the stairs creaked, signally the lady’s return. She carried a slender stick, a beautiful deep chestnut in colour and a sleek, silvery dagger with an ornately carved black hilt. I could feel the arcane stirring slightly in it, its magic reaching out gently to my horn. It wasn’t much, but I could channel magic through it.

The lady finally introduced herself as Millibeth, caretakers of these old keepers of fire seated around me, as she handed me the simple staff and silver dagger. I held the staff daintily in the grip of my telekinesis, ingraining my magic into the soft wood, carving small runes along its length that would allow me to convert my relatively weak magic into something that could be used to survive whatever this strange world had in store for me.

Milibeth bowed to me as I stood up, bowing my head in return before walking to the closed door before me. The firekeeper named Strowen called out to me as my magic took hold of the door. I turned around, the door shimmering with magic, blinking as Strowen threw a black mass of weaved material to me. My reflexes kicked in as my magic enveloped it. I tilted my head in confusion at the old figure hunched by the fire.

“Normally we would make undead perceive this to be themselves, but since you are a horse, please accept this effigy of a human as a gift.”

I nodded hesitantly, standing awkwardly in the centre of the room, magic spread between the door, my new weapons and the effigy. It didn’t take long for the magical grip to falter and fail, the items held in the air clattering to the ground. I had to sit, exhausted as my magical stamina recharged. The firekeepers cackled as Milibeth moved next to me, concerned, fussing over me.

‘I’m fine, don’t worry.’ Milibeth moved back as I stood up, a glint in my eye as an idea formed. ‘You wouldn't happen to have any leather spare would you?’