Warmth. Chapter 2 Here
That is all I can remember of home. Just the pure warmth that I felt. I always felt loved, happy, and alive. But that is all I can remember. Am I sad that the warmth is my only memory? No, not really. I am just glad that I can remember anything at all. There are those who were born here, into the cold, with no memory home. Some of the elder ponies claim to remember lush fields, endless rolling hills of flowers and food so sweet it could make you smile. I don’t know how much of that is real memory and how much is fabricated by their desire to return home. I would be happy with just the warmth.
Like the others, I am awake. My straw bedroll tries its best to capture my warmth but fails. At least it provides something against the chilled rock beneath me. The air reeks of foul ooze and algae. I can tell that it rained while we slept, for the streams of water are still rushing down the cliff face and making the vertical fall from the cave roof. Half of the fluid continues its journey to the barren swamp beneath, the other half splatters into the cave mouth, dampening the air and the straw rolls of those on their watch shift. Our cave is far from the ground below but we still keep watch.
The red sun has just broken the horizon, it's tinted light does little to mask the deep greens of the jiggered mushroom shaped mountains that sit like giants across the land. Between the pillars, lies a winding swampy river that boasts shades of green that rival the alien moss that creeps along the rocks.
As uninviting as it is to go for a swim, one glance at the sharp bladed rocks that form a dense network of spikes across the entire floor aren’t enough to slow down the things that hide beneath the sludge.
If we weren’t able to use our magic to gather hanging vines from the cliff faces, to get us to higher ground, I doubt we would ever have lasted as long. My father tells me that they tried to grant wings to us, so that we could fly to safety, but they couldn’t. He tells me that they tried to summon a gateway, but they couldn’t find home. I think it has something to do with the disconnection from magic. He tells me that home is where we were strong, and now that we have lost our bond with it, our magic has faded. My father tells me that we were able to use our intelligence to craft a thin vine ladder. That was all we needed to ascend to our wind carved cavern.
Hushed whispers fill the cave. They are not panicked, that means it’s time for breakfast.
Carefully, I lift myself out of my itchy bedroll and place my hardened hooves on the cool stone floor. A cold chill runs down my spine as my body heat escaped through the pads of my hooves. I silently creep over the still frames of other sleeping mares and move towards the designated meal allocator. She uses her mouth to open a woven sack to reveal a chiselled rock bowl containing lush green moss. She then marks a crudely crafted note pad and leaves me to enjoy my meal to the sounds of the others waking from their light sleep.
I take my seat on the damp cave mouth and dangle my hooves over lip. It may be a cold barren world but it is hard not to admire the beauty of such a strange, alien world. Mushroom shaped rock pillars stretch as far as the eye can see. The deep red star now casts its rich red hue over the landscape, but it doesn’t bring any warmth with it. I think it’s too far away from this forsaken planet. The sun teases me with the promise of warmth but grants only weak light, not even strong enough to penetrate the permanent fog that clings to the ground.
It is so quiet. Only the breathing from my clan behind me breaks the silence. On some days I can hear the wind whistle through the canyons and on others, I can hear the muffled roar of monstrosities from lands far away.
Small vines run the distance from pillar to pillar. We were lucky enough to find a pony-sized one running from our cave mouth to a smaller cave on the pillar facing us. I wouldn’t call us too lucky though, a smaller cave isn’t worth the risk of being separated. That’s what could happen if the vine broke while you weren’t on it. If I broke while you were trusting it with your life, if the fall didn’t kill you and you somehow managed to avoid being impaled on the spikes, you would probably fall into the maw of some foul beast.
We tried hunting once. A long time ago, a small party of us descended to the floor. They were going to hunt for fish in the river. They hadn’t seen any before, but they were getting desperate. Eating moss every meal does tend to grind away at your sanity. We never heard from, or saw them again.
That is why we still eat moss.
Just as easily as it had come, the sun slowly faded behind another pillar. The days here were around ten minutes long. It’s just enough time to get a glimpse of where you are stranded before you are forced back into another freezing night. They are only a few hours long, but it feels like you are plunged into darkness for days on end.
I like to think of the day time here as a drink of water. It’s rare but it’s refreshing. If you go too long without one, either your own insanity or what lurks in the shadows will end you.
Ponies have leapt from the cave mouth on more than one occasion. I hope that won’t be me.
Author's Note
Change Log
[21/12/15] - Corrected Spelling and Grammar Errors.
[21/12/15] - Fixed Even More Spelling and Grammar Errors.
The Cold
It grips me. It surrounds me. It tries to penetrate my skin like a sharp spear looking for a point of weakness. It looks for somewhere to cut me open and freeze my blood. It feels like a thousand fire ants think I’m their dinner. It is so cold that it burns.
As I rest in my bedroll, I try to think of warmth. I imagine myself curled up in the embrace of my mother in front of a fire. It’s hard to keep imagining this fantasy when another growl of wind rips its way through the cave and digs another hole into my deteriorating bag.
Hearing a distant howl reminds me of the things that lurk outside. Some hate hearing the calls of lonely monsters, but personally, I like the reality check. It reminds me to stay alert and not to drift too far into my fantasy world of warmth. My mind drifts to the two ponies posted on watch. We take it in shifts, children excluded. I think of the poor unfortunate souls that have to suffer in the rain and chill of the cave mouth until dawn. In a few nights time it will be my turn, but I try not to think of that. I cherish my sleep. It is the only time that I am truly free of this world. I start to drift into the warm blurry haze of sleep. Sometimes all you can do is hug yourself and hope that you will wake up.
I wake up to terrified screams. My fur is plastered to my body by cold sweat. The one torch that we always keep lit for the watch is out. Its pitch black. The scratching of scurrying hooves and the shrieks of flailing bodies forms a cacophony of fear that roars through the cave. They cast vivid shadows on the cave floor as they rush to the back of the cave, gathering children and loved ones on their way. Some dive behind loose boulder, some grasp iron spears, while most huddle in a mix of their own fear, sweat and piss.
Massive talons snap onto the cave lip and hoist up a giant black feathered body that boasts two webbed wings. Its eyes are only two red dots in the darkness. Its deafening screech causes my ears to throb and bleed. Out of the shadows a second screecher appears and joins in the bloody choir. Scrambling pony limbs strike my stunned frame, knocking me to the hard floor.
Then I see black.
My hearing is the first thing to come back. Grunts of fierce ponies, the war cries of fearless defenders and the pained howls of the screechers guide me back to consciousness. The crisp zap of precious magic tears through the air and buries itself deep within the creatures’ bodies.
Next my sight returns. It is black and white but slowly fading into the colour. Rich purples, yellows and reds briefly light the cavern as the rip violently through the atmosphere. Through the blurred haze I watch in admiration as a pony I feel quite dear to bravely wield her magic against this strange world. I can see the tears the shed from her eyes from the pain of focusing weak magic. My attention shifts as a taller pony moves into position beside her. The two princesses, Twilight and Luna. The only ones strong enough to still retain some of their magic.
More of them have arrived. What was once a party of a few screechers has developed into an entire flock of hungry predators. My weary eyes slide shut just as Twilight collapses from exhaustion. Her body, covered in sweat, lies at the feet of the ever-strong night princess who still fights fiercely to keep her head held high.
“Get back!” She cries with royal authority to the onslaught of shadows.
Razor-lined beaks snap and bite at the princess’s perfect figure. They tear out triangles of flesh but still she keeps her focus on now the only light in the cave and what feels like the last light left in the world. As one screecher snaps her wing between its powerful beak, a surge of power enters Luna’s horn and the light grows to twice its size. It arcs its magical fire at approaching screechers and commands them to stand at bay.
“Foul beasts you shall be slain!” The desperate princess screamed once more.
It was as if she thought that these creatures of hatred and death could understand her, and that they would accept the authority of a pony who was once such a great ruler.
I watched as a cage of mangled black talons reached for her. I saw the pure terror in her eyes as they coiled around her throat like armoured snakes. I watched as her horn stopped glowing and as she took her last breath. Just as her frame went limp and collapsed into death’s arms, I felt a pair of cool claws slowly wrap around me. I wanted to scream. I wanted to fight, but after all of these years I had no desire within me. I let it take me. I feel the air rush to fill the void beneath me when it brings me off the ground. I feel my head fall limp backwards and my feet dangle in the night air. I feel the soft beating of its wings and the dry rasp of its throat as it calls to its brethren to leave. They have either slaughtered all of my friends or have taken as much food as they need for the coming winter. I find some comforting in thinking that I may be taking the place of some young filly. They can feast on me, someone who has already been dead along time, instead of blood that hasn’t yet been tainted by this land.
I feel saddened knowing that this is the most free I will ever feel, being trapped in a cage of talons.
Author's Note
I am thinking of adding a gore tag, I am not sure exactly if this chapter qualifies as gore.
I know this story is a tad dark.
If you think it's too intense, or you like it, please comment to let me know!
I apologist for the chapters being short but I work best in short bursts and I'd like to keep building up the story.
Expect frequent updates!
I know that if I stop and build up a long chapter I will never finish it.
Thank you!
If you are interested in helping me work on this story please find the Google Doc Link Here.
Change Log
[21/12/15] - Fixed Some Spelling and Grammar Errors
