Author's Note

And here it is, ladies and gentlemen. After several months, I'm getting back on track.

Feedback is of course always welcome.

3: A Stranger In A Strange Land

Lucatiel had never considered the Undead Curse to be of any benefit to their Bearer, but it was now that it occurred to her that those afflicted by it would have a much more comprehensive idea of what it felt like to be dead. It was this insight that allowed her to know that the throbbing headache she felt, no matter how unpleasant, was a sign that she had not yet perished. The thought relieved her somewhat, knowing that she wasn't even closer to Hollowing than before due to her own carelessness.

Waking up to the feeling of a soft mattress and warm covers puzzled her, until she remembered the strange equine-like beings that had come across her on the field. They cared for me? Lucatiel thought, confusion and alarm seeping into the forefront of her conscious. Did they not recognize her as an Undead, fit only to be driven away before she could bring harm to them? It was then that she noticed her thoughts having a clarity they had been deprived of since the curse affected her, and hope began to fill her being.

Can it be possible? Could the curse have truly been lifted? Lucatiel reached out with her thoughts, searching for the harrowingly familiar presence of the Darksign that marked her as Undead, dreading the inevitable disappointment, only to find the once expansive abyss seeking to devour her self had receded. It was still there, but the curse's hold on her mind had loosened to such a degree that it no longer muddled her thoughts. She remembered her purpose. I've no excuse to linger here. As soon as I have repaid the kindness of my hosts, however misplaced, I must find my way back to Drangleic. I must find Aslatiel, Lucatiel thought, silently berating herself for forgetting her brother for even an instant. Even if her existence as an Undead meant she had lost most of her memories, such absent-mindedness was unacceptable, not to mention unbecoming of her.

"Look everypony, she's waking up!" A decidedly feminine voice exclaimed, prompting Lucatiel to open her eyes and take in her surroundings.

The interior of the room was cozy, with warm, incandescent light pouring in through a window, driving away the faintest trace of shadows from the corners. Lucatiel herself was currently lying down on a very comfortable if curiously proportioned bed, her head propped up by a not insignificant number of soft pillows, allowing her to see around the room and take stock of the other occupants within it. Six of the strange equines, far taller than the ones she had protected from the wooden wolves stood at the end of the bed, staring at her with seeming anticipation.

The first pony, Lucatiel decided, had a coat of lavender fur and a purple mane and tail with a light magenta streak running through both, but the most eyecatching feature was the spiraling horn, matching the coat's coloration. She, and as far as Lucatiel could tell it was indeed a she, was looking at her with anticipation, seemingly in a silent debate whether to speak. The pony to her left was also a... Unicorn, was it? Yes, another unicorn, this one with a pristine alabaster coat and a purple mane and tail done up in an elegant coiffure, not unlike what the highborn ladies of Mirrah would have. Lucatiel quirked an eyebrow behind her mask in bemusement, the image in her minds eye of haughty noblewomen discovering that a horse could match their sense of fashion nearly causing her usual stoic expression to falter.

The next pony in line, surprisingly enough, did not have a horn upon her head, instead sporting a pair of feathered wings that were currently neatly folded against her sides, the canary-yellow plumage matching her coat. Her expression openly showed worry, until the realization of having Lucatiel's eyes trained on her made her hide behind her long, flowing light pink mane.

When her eyes turned to the next pony in line, Lucatiel's mind did a double take to try and comprehend what she was seeing. The second winged pony's coat and wings were blue like a cloudless sky on a warm summer day, while the mane and tail were a riot of all the colors of a rainbow. There was no chance that those could be her natural colors. While at first glance her demeanor displayed a seeming disinterest, Lucatiel could tell from the way the muscles on the legs were tensed, she was ready to pounce on her at the first sign of danger. Lucatiel genuinely couldn't tell whether the winged pony's halfhearted effort of disguising her wariness of her was intentional or not.

Swiveling her eyes to the right, Lucatiel focused on the next pony, this one having neither wings nor horn. The pony had an orange coat and a mane and tail of a lighter shade of blonde than her own head of golden hair, with red headbands to tie them into ponytails, of all things. To further complement this quite rustic appearance, perched atop her head was a clearly aged yet well kept brown felt hat.

As Lucatiel turned her scrutinizing gaze upon the last pony in the room, she found herself as befuddled as she had by the rainbow-maned pony's appearance. This pony had a coat of light pink and a mane and tail of a darker shade of pink hair that seemingly flooded outwards from her. Her mouth was streched to an unsettling grin that somehow became even wider when she noticed Lucatiel was gazing at her. Faraam and Kremmel, have mercy for my wretched soul.

"Oh, you don't need to be afraid, its alright. Pinkie is just excited to meet you. My name is Fluttershy. Could you tell me your name? Um, if that is okay with you, that is," a soft, soothing voice spoke from her left, and Lucatiel turned her head to find that the canary-yellow winged pony had moved closer to her, her teal eyes laced with concern. How did she get so close without making a sound? They have hooves and the floor is wood. I must be letting my guard slip. It is good fortune indeed that they do not seem to have ill intent for me. Lucatiel, deciding that silence would in this instance not be helpful, replied: "I am called Lucatiel, Miss Fluttershy. I presume that I have you and your companions to thank for my rescue?"

Much to Lucatiel's puzzlement, the pony named Fluttershy meeped and the other ponies in the room reeled back in surprise, as though they had not expected to hear her speak. Have they never met a human? Is that why they did not recognize me as an Undead? Lucatiel pondered in her head. It was... comforting, to know that there was a place in the world that had remained untouched by the curse, and it only made her fetid presence within it feel all the more sacrilegious. I must leave with all haste once I have repaid my debt to them, lest I bring doom to this land as Undead have done elsewhere, and gods forbid should I go Hollow here, in this untarnished sanctuary.

While these thoughts floated in Lucatiel's mind, the lavender unicorn stepped towards her, her expression a cheerful, friendly countenance. "So your name is Lucatiel? My name is Twilight Sparkle. How do you feel? You seemed pretty badly hurt back at the clearing," she said, a warm smile never once leaving her muzzle.

You would not speak with such concern for me if you knew the danger I bring with me wherever I go, Lucatiel thought as she replied: "I am glad to make your aqquaintance, Twilight Sparkle. I am as well as can be expected, given my circumstances. I do not think I would have fared well without you and your companions' intervention. I owe all of you a great debt indeed."

"Nonsense, darling! After you so gallantly charged to rescue my little sister and her friends from those Timberwolves, we would be heartless, uncouth ruffians to hold you in any sort of debt to us!" The white unicorn declared in a refined accent, seemingly deciding now was the time for her to step forth and add her own thoughts, which were shared judging by the murmurs of agreement that sounded throughout the room.

They are actually called Timberwolves? Lucatiel thought bemusedly, as she said: "You are most generous to say such, Miss...?"

"Rarity, darling. Fashionista extraordinaire and proprietor of Carousel Boutique, and I must say that I was quite impressed with the ensemble that you were wearing. Such an elegant yet spartan design and color composition, that at once conveys both beauty and formidable strength, I could not help but find myself inspired by it!"

The talk of clothing served to remind Lucatiel that underneath the covers, save for the rather tattered undercloths she was rather in a state of undress. The unicorn named Rarity must have noticed the discomfort in her eyes, as she quickly assured: "Oh, no need to worry about your clothes, darling. When we brought you here they were absolutely covered in grass stains, tree sap and dirt, so I thought that while our dear Fluttershy tended to your wounds, I would do my part by doing the same to your outfit. I'm certain you will find it as immaculate as the day it was made!" As she spoke, Rarity's horn began to glow in a mesmerizing azure light and a neatly folded bundle of familiar clothing floated over to Lucatiel, who balked at the display not out of surprise but of carefully suppressed outrage.

They make use of sorcery so trivially?! Then again, perhaps it merely makes up for the lack of hands... Lucatiel thought, as she asked: "I am grateful that you have rendered such a service to me, but I feel I must inquire after my armaments. If you truly consider our debts settled in an honest accounting, then there is surely no reason to keep them from me, is there? It would be shameful for me to find myself disarmed."

Now it was the orange pony who spoke, in a heavily accented voice loosely reminiscent of a certain barkeep in her home village from so long ago: "No need for ya to worry, Miss Lucatiel. Yer things are by the doorway, sword an' shield an' all in order or mah name ain't Applejack!"

"And I'm Rainbow Dash, fastest flier in Equestria!"

Lucatiel stared at cyan winged pony, and replied in a neutral voice: "Charmed, I'm sure."

Sitting up straight, Lucatiel turned to face the pony Fluttershy had named as "Pinkie", and tilting her head in confusion asked: "Are you unwell, Miss Pinkie? You are shaking." And so she was. The pink mare was silently buzzing in place, the same unnerving grin stretching across her features from ear to ear still in place. The other ponies in the room seemed to have also noticed this, and the sight of them sitting down on their haunches and placing the hooves of their forelegs against their ears was not a reassuring one.

As Lucatiel turned her gaze back towards Pinkie, her eyes widened as she found the mare's head scarcely three inches from her own, eliciting a yelp and a most ungraceful tumble back down onto her pillow while the pink pony drew in a deep breath and began spouting a litany of sentences that even Lucatiel's hearing, honed to near-perfection from having to make sense of garbled commands over the chaotic din of a battlefield, was barely able to keep up. Something to do with a "welcome party" and "cupcakes". It was then that Applejack chose to intervene on her behalf.

"Landsakes Pinkie, no need to overwhelm the poor gal when she only just woke up!" The farm-mare exclaimed as her hoof was unceremoniusly placed on Pinkie's muzzle, reducing the high pitched rambling to much quieter mumbling, yet the pink mare continued to attempt to speak as though nothing had interrupted her.

Taking the moment of reprieve from the verbal assault to sit upright again, Lucatiel began to spread out the various parts of her outfit, which the unicorn named Rarity seemed to take as a signal to hush everyone else out of the room. The idea that these creatures who walked about in bare fur would have a concept of decency when it came to dress was a puzzling one to Lucatiel. She decided that perhaps it was more for the higher circles of their society, as Rarity seemed to have been the only one to actively respond to her actions.

With a slow, deliberate, almost reverent pace Lucatiel removed her mask, the black silk lining the inside peeling off from her face, exposing the skin beneath to air for the first time in what must have been a significant amount of time, that she could feel the sensation of her skin breathing in air once more even through an Undead's dulled sense of touch. Turning it around so that the gleaming steel faced her, her left hand moved to caress that side of her face. Sighing, Lucatiel placed the mask on the bed and began to dress.

First came on the padded snow white dress shirt, now freshly laundered, followed by the light burgundy trousers and bound by an ornate belt. Next she sat on the bed and slipped her feet into the light woolen socks before pulling on the leather boots, tucking the pant legs within. With practised ease, the black hardened leather vest came on, the royal blue waistcloth hanging on one side with more boiled leather on the other, the slight weight a familiarly comforting feeling. Finally, Lucatiel closed her eyes as the mask came back on, and the dress uniform hat was affixed back on the top of her head, the padding concealing the steel helm beneath the hat.

Behind the eyeslits of the mask, two piercing deep blue eyes opened, burning with determination, and as Lucatiel walked up to the door and attached the scabbard of her sword to its rightful place at her side and shouldering her shield by its sling, they burned with something else too. Something she had not felt for an immemorable amount of time.

Hope.