The Elder Scrolls: Equestria

“...what is the most important thing in your life? Is it gold?  Perhaps it is personal pleasure? Or, maybe it could be something else…

Maybe, family..?”

“Hurry up and finish it!”

“That’s not how it works lady, it still needs a few minutes to brew and it doesn’t help that the wagon hits every hole in the fucking road!” the zebra mare snarled at the stallions pulling the wagon. The buck’s ears flattened against their heads, their heads lowering and begrudgingly slowed their frantic pace.

It had been six hours since we left Whitetail to burn at the vengeance fueled hooves of Grogar, and we’d barely covered thirty miles. With Zaire, Xenphyr, Rose, Bluebell, Riverwind and I in the wagon with Grover, the bucks pulling us were under a lot of strain. Even with Zenmir (The old zebra buck) his grandson Mika and Quill trotting and occasionally galloping alongside us our progress was agonizingly slow. So when they did manage to reach a good speed they tried their best to maintain it for as long as possible.

It was nothing short of a miracle that we hadn’t come across any Legionnaires yet.

“Watch your mouth!” I growled as my magic continued to wash over Grover’s injuries. The lack of progress I was making was really beginning to frustrate me. Whatever spell Grogar used to create his bladed staff was a dark one, and the energy left over in his wounds was either negating my magic, or causing more damage to his body as I tried to heal it.

That, and every time somepony cursed the little pony in my head went all mother mare on me. And the zebras I was currently with cursed a lot.

Grover was lying on a bedroll that was sprawled out in the back of the wagon. I stripped his ruined armor from his muscular frame to see what we were dealing with, and what I saw was not encouraging. Grogar’s staff didn’t just cut through his armor, it melted it! I spent the first hour and a half alone pulling deformed shards of steel from his from his flesh. And those were just the cuts. When the handle of Grogar’s staff struck it left nothing but shattered bones and bruised flesh behind. While I used my magic to keep Grover’s wounds from deteriorating further, I also used a spell to reconstruct the bones in his face. Oh Grover.

I shouldn’t have let him do it. I should have grabbed him and teleported away. (I’d never teleported before but with the Scroll’s magic flowing through my veins I felt like I could do anything)

Except save Grover.

I bombarded Grover with a continuous stream of healing magic from the second the city was out of sight, and he still wasn’t better! For the first few hours Rose sat close by, hugging me tightly as I worked. Telling me I could do it. But she was just a filly. The longer we went without seeing any improvement the more her concern grew.

Eventually I had to use a sedation spell so she could get some rest. At Quill’s insistence I used the spell on Riverwind and Bluebell as well. The two were so scared and worried that they hadn’t slept at all the night before.

During this time, Zaire put her alchemy skills to work. She brewed a dozen potions over the last several hours to staunch Grover’s bleeding, replenish his lost blood, prevent infection and seal his wounds. But even with her potions and my magic combined, his wounds simply refused to heal.

At this point I was at my wits end. I used every spell I could think of; I even tried cauterizing his wounds, but they reopened within minutes. My horn was sparking, my body was trembling and my breathing was more labored than Grover’s. If I didn’t heal his wounds quick I’d burn out, and then he would die for sure.

I watched the rapid rise and fall of Grover’s chest and listened intently to his groans and whines. He was in a lot of pain. During my time with Grover I’ve seen him take punishment that would kill a normal person, and he never once complained or showed signs of slowing down. He was steadfast, strong, and fiercely loyal. The drake took on an entire swarm of changelings on his own and he wasn’t nearly this badly injured.

A lot of things were beginning to make sense. Celestia may be able to subdue a horde of changelings with her magic, she may be an incredibly powerful alicorn, but Grogar, to me at least, was on an entirely different level.

Grover’s wounds seemed to be getting worse. Blood wept from his wounds, leaving a puddle of ever increasing size spreading throughout the wagon. His skin was pale beneath his coat and plumage, and his breathing was shallow.

He was dying.

After everything we’d been through, after everything we’d done together, he was going to die.

And it was my fault.

The others seemed to believe it was inevitable as well. Quill trotted along the wagon watching him closely, tears running down her cheeks. Zenmir’s grandchildren watched with hopeless expressions. While they hadn’t known Grover, they had been watching him ever since Zaire and I started working on him. You can only watch so long before it hurts.

Zenmir himself was trotting along with an apathetic expression. He hadn’t known Grover as a person; he only saw the drake as one of Celestia’s soldiers, and as a soldier Grover was a symbol of law and order. A symbol that ponies (or zebras) in my line of work don’t particularly care for. Zenmir only helped me save Grover to avoid being turned into an apple.

Just when I was on the brink of crying a strangely familiar voice began speaking in my head.

You’re wasting your magic. One doesn’t stitch the wound when the blade is still inside.

I looked all around me but nopony had spoken. They were either looking anywhere except Grover, or watching him with sad expressions. After I was certain my ears were playing a trick on me the voice returned, sounding annoyed.

You’re supposed to be smart, Silver Scroll! Think about it for Celestia’s sake!!

Feeling like I’d just been scolded by Miss Strudel I looked back at Grover and thought about what the voice said. Don’t stitch the wound with the blade inside…OH!

It was like a dam burst in my mind, flooding my body with relief as the solution hit me like a buck to the face. I cast a spell to detect any and all lingering magic inside Grover and I found incredibly dark energy pulsating inside his wounds. Grogar’s staff left behind a strange type of magical poison. I berated myself for not thinking of it earlier. Come on Silver! Get your head in the game.

I focused all of my remaining magic into cutting the spell, but even with my magic being considerably more powerful than before, I was tired and the spell I was attempting to break was complex and powerful. It basically emitted necromatic energy.

My horn began to spark wildly, my head throbbed and my vision blurred. I was about to burn out…

I focused and poured every ounce of magic I had left into breaking the spell. My horn began to throb along with my head; my heart beat faster than it ever had before. Just when I thought I wouldn’t be able to break the spell, just when I thought Grover was lost to me forever, the spell snapped like a twig under my hoof, and the very second it shattered my magic failed me. Slumping onto the wagon right next to Grover I tried to catch my breath and will my heart to slow. I shifted my gaze towards Grover and watched with relief as his wounds began to slowly seal together. All the potions and magical energy we’d been pouring into him was finally beginning to take effect.

I watched several wisps of smoke coming from my horn dance in the air above us. I don’t know if it was my mind playing tricks on me, or if I was simply hallucinating, but I saw the wisps curl into a smiley face.

Took you long enough.

“What did you do?” Zaire asked, breaking me out of my reverie. She watched Grover with a fascinated smile as his wounds healed before our eyes.

“You don’t stitch a wound while the blade is still inside.” Zaire seemed satisfied with my answer as she finished mixing together her final potion.

My breathing returned to normal right alongside Grover’s. After some time his groans and whimpers ceased, replaced by deep, steady breaths. I was so happy that I didn’t even care that I was lying in a pool of blood.

“Will he be alright?” Quill asked, her eyes still filled with worry. At least she’s not crying anymore.

“He should be fine,” Zaire said, confidence returning to her features and her voice. “This potion will restore any missing flesh and kill of any infection.” She scowled and pointed a hoof where Grover’s missing eye should be. “I can’t fix that though. Maybe a few hours ago when I still had the ingredients, but not now.  Maybe if you would have done what you did a few hours ago” she added, scowling at me.

Normally I would have retorted but right now I didn’t care. Grover was going to survive! Not only that but we got the missives and the scrolls! I can get my money and retire to Prance with Rose…I felt my ears droop at the thought that Grover wouldn’t be coming with us but I knew I couldn’t stop him.

Maybe I can ponynap him…the thought died as quickly as it formed. It would take nothing short of an army to keeping him from fighting. And he’d never forgive me if I tried to stop him.

Rose stirred in her blanket nearby, where she huddled close to Riverwind and Bluebell. As I watched her sleep she twitched and turned over several times.

“Grover…” she whispered, her eyes darting around behind her eyelids. I considered waking her for a moment but thought better of it. She needed sleep, and she could see Grover when she woke up. But as I watched her, another thought came to mind. Zaire, Quill and the others were talking about something but I wasn’t listening. There was only one thing on my mind.

Where can I take Rose?

I’d been thinking this since before coming to Whitetail. If the job was successful and we got out alive there was no way I could take here with me to see Celestia. It would take a lot of explaining just to convince her I didn’t ponynap Rose, and there was no way she would let me keep her. I even considered leaving her with Sunshine and Windsheer but I quickly pushed the idea from my mind. I’d done some stupid things lately but I wasn’t going to add that to the list. That only left me with two options; take her to Celestia and convince her to let me keep Rose…

Or go home.

I nosed my bag open and removed the enchanted map I got from Celestia. I unfurled it (keeping it on Grover’s chest instead of the blood covered floor) and scanned it for the destination I had in mind.

“How long will it take to get here?” I asked the bucks pulling the wagon, showing them the map.

“Three days, maybe four.” They answered in unison.

“That’s where we’re going.”

                              ****************

The sleepy little village of Fetlock rested between Equestria’s shining capital of Canterlot and the unicorn city of Arcadia. Fetlock wasn’t a large town, having only three hundred residents, but what it lacked in ponies in made up for in charm.

The town itself was made up of a dozen shops built around Fetlock’s main road connecting Arcadia to Canterlot. The buildings were made of fine wood from the Whitetail Woods, while the farm houses surrounding the village were made of simple oak.

While Fetlock had no contingent of Royal Guards from Canterlot, the residents of the village formed their own small town guard. They wore simple brown barding and were armed only with daggers. Despite being poorly equipped the guards of Fetlock took their jobs very seriously.

And it made my stomach drop.

We rolled into Fetlock early in the morning, before any of the town ponies had opened their shuttered windows and opened their stores for business.

“Halt, what’s your business…Silver Scroll?” the guard at the entrance to Fetlock stopped dead in his tracks at the sight of me. “You look…taller.” He shuffled his hooves awkwardly, his eyes looking me over.

“Does the shop still open at nine?” I asked, climbing out of the wagon and standing to my full height. The guard (I think his name was…Barrel? Or maybe Buckle?) He nodded and pointed a hoof down the road.

“Yeah, go right ahead.” I nodded and started at a trot towards the one place in Equestria I swore I’d never come back to. Zenmir trotted ahead of me and stopped in my path.

“It’s been fun Fine Flanks, but me and the youngin’s are headin’ out.”

“Oh…” his declaration taking me off guard. “Do you think you could help me with Grover before you go?” it had been three days and nights since we left Whitetail, and even though his wounds were healed Grover lost a lot of strength. He hadn’t been able to stay awake for more than five or ten minutes at a time.

“I reckon me and my kin have helped Celestia’s killin’ machine plenty,” He rubbed his muzzle. “we risked our necks for ya back in the city, and bringin’ you and yer filly back here. If it were up to me I woulda just left him there, but I didn’t. We used a lot of our supplies keepin’ him alive. As far as I’m concerned, my debt’s been paid.”

I hated his words but they were true. He didn’t have to help me; he only helped me in Whitetail because I got him out of prison. That and he really didn’t like Grover. To Zenmir, anypony crazy enough to fight Grogar one on one for Celestia was somepony to be avoided.

“I suppose it has.” I turned back to the wagon and floated Rose onto my back, where she quickly curled up into a tight little ball. Next was Grover. I used my magic to create a stretcher and place him gingerly upon it, along with one of his swords and the shattered remains of the other. I don’t know why, but it felt, wrong, to separate him from them. Finally I strapped on my saddlebags, turned back to where Zenmir was silently waiting and levitated a large bag of coins from my bags.

“Here, for you supplies.” Not only did they use a lot of their alchemy supplies keeping Grogar alive, but they also dropped most of their supplies in Whitetail so we could fit in the wagon.

“Are you sure they won’t mind?” Quill asked, transferring her children from the wagon and onto her back. “I wouldn’t want to impose…”

“Nonsense.” I spun around to face her. “Don’t worry, you won’t be imposing. Just…don’t tell them the truth about Rose ok?” I had explained this to her several times, but I couldn’t help but reiterate. She nodded and I turned back to Zenmir and hoofed him his gold.

“I hope our paths will cross again.” He nodded in reply and whistled to his grandchildren. He climbed into the wagon and turned his gaze to me, a sly grin spreading across his muzzle.

“Don’tchu worry, Fine Flanks. With how often ya’ll get inta trouble we’re bound to meet up.’ He winked and hollered to his grandchildren. “Get movin’ ya lazy mules!” the wagon sped out of town, kicking up a cloud of dust in its wake. I watched the wagon until it was out of sight, then I took a deep breath and trotted to the front door of the shop. The store itself was a small general store, in addition to acting as Fetlock’s library. Part of me was glad to see it again.

The other part of me was screaming for me to run back to Whitetail.

I took one more deep breath, raised my right foreleg and knocked on the door four times. After a few moments of silence I raised my hoof to knock again when the door opened.

“Hello, what can I do for….” The white coated mare that was my mother stopped mid-sentence, her muzzle hanging open.

“Hi, Mom.” For the first time in weeks I felt self-conscious about my appearance. None of us had bathed in days and my mane was a tangled mess. I had to refrain from smelling myself in front of her.

“Silver..?” she said, reaching up and placing a hoof on my shoulder to make sure I was really there. After a moment she looked over my shoulder at Quill, and Grover floating silently on his stretcher. “Oh dear…what happened!” stricken with panic she forcibly pulled me inside, almost making me drop Rose.

“Mom, careful” I pointed my nose at the little ball of blue fur that was Rose, and my mother’s face brightened with joy; at the same time her eyes filled with tears.

“Silver dear…is she… yours?” I nodded and she turned away from us.

“Fleece! Come down here, quickly!” there were sounds of breaking glass and heavy objects hitting the floor above us before a gray buck with silver hair came rushing down the stairs.

“What’s wrong…?” his eyes widened at the sight of me, just like Mom’s did. But he wasn’t as subtle. He rushed over to me, wrapped his hooves around my neck and pulled me into a hug.

“Oh, Silver! My little girl is home!” he shook me in his excitement, causing Rose to stir on my back.

“Mommy, what’s going on?” she said sleepily, rubbing her eyes. This proved to be too much for my parents. They wrapped their hooves around us both, pulling Rose and I into a rib cracking hug.

“Mommy, what’s going on?” the little blue filly asked again, her expression quickly shirting from confused to fearful.

“It’s okay Rose. We’re home.”

The next ten minutes was filled with tears, crying, laughter, and levels of awkward I hadn’t experienced since I lost my hymen. My parents ushered us all inside, sent us to the dining room and began cooking us breakfast. Soon the most wonderful aromas filled the room. Oatmeal, freshly sliced fruit with peanut butter and colorful flowers covered out plates. Rose, Bluebell and Riverwind tore into their food with a vengeance. Rose had only eaten grass and uncooked oats since she started traveling with us and Quill’s kids lived under Grogar, so it was no surprise they were so excited to see good food. Quill tried to make them sit still and slow down but after a while she gave up and let the foals be foals.

Quill restrained herself but it was clear she was enjoying the food as much as her kids. She was slimmer than I was.

“Here you are dear, your favorite.” my mother placed a bowl of oatmeal with brown sugar, sliced apples and daisy petals in front of me, along with a glass of milk.

“Thanks mom.” I inhaled the scent greedily, causing my mouth to water. I hadn’t eaten my mother’s special oatmeal in years. Before I dug into my breakfast I looked to the couch in the living room across the hall, where Grover was sleeping soundly.

My parents hadn’t questioned why I was carrying an unconscious griffon with me, but from the way they kept looking at him it was only a matter of time. But for the moment, they were satisfied with watching Rose and I with teary expressions.

When I took my first bite flavor exploded inside my mouth. It was like I was a little filly again, having a nice, study free breakfast before helping mom with the store.

It made my heart ache.

“Silver dear,” Mom said once we had all finished our food. “We are of course; very happy to see you, but why have you come to town? If you wanted to visit you know we’re just a letter away.” Her eyes darted to the couch.

“Quill, could you take Rose to the other room?” I asked, she nodded and nudged Bluebell and Riverwind towards the living room. I nuzzled Rose’s cheek. “Go on, it’s okay.” She reluctantly followed Quill into the other room. After she was on the other side of the couch I closed the door with my magic, and cast a spell to prevent eavesdropping for good measure.

I looked at my parents and they looked at me, but nopony talked. I tried to but I just couldn’t find the words. I’ve talked fillies out of candy and bucks out of their gold, but I just couldn’t think of what to say. After what felt like hours (even though it was maybe five minutes) my father got up from his seat and stood by my shoulder.

“What happened, Silver?” it was the one question I loathed to answer more than any other. For the last several days I had been thinking of different stories to tell them. Some were good but others were laughably pathetic. But I’d rather tell them a stupid story than the truth. For as long as I could remember I put them out of my mind. I never told anypony at the Guild where I was from, I even told them my parents were dead. I preferred to pretend they didn’t even exist.

And my heart was breaking just thinking about it.

When I left, I didn’t give them much warning. I left a letter on the nightstand by their bed saying that I was going out on my own. How I was going to make a life for myself. I was old enough, I had my cutie mark and I knew really impressive magic considering my age. I could take care of myself. But that wasn’t the way I phrased it.

I told them I was sick of studying, sick of Miss Strudel and sick of magic. I told them how I didn’t want them controlling my life anymore. I hurt them and I didn’t even have the decency to write to them. To tell them I was okay, and ask if they were okay. I was a spiteful as possible.

And now I was sitting in their house, with an unconscious griffon, a half-starved mare and three foals, one of whom was calling me mommy. I couldn’t even look them in the eye while my mind raced through the various excuses I concocted over the last week. Finally, I settled on a story that I thought would sound the best.

I went to live in Arcadia, got work as a teacher at the Mage’s College, and married an earth pony in the Royal Guard. The reason we were here was that Grogar’s army was getting too close to Arcadia and my husband was killed in a skirmish near the city borders. It was the best thing I could say to garner sympathy. It was the best way to get forgiveness for my stupidity.

That’s what I should have told them. Instead, I told them the truth.

I started my story right after I left home, and ended at our flight from Whitetail. I talked for what must have been hours and with the exception of an occasional question, my parents remained silent. I told them about the Guild, getting arrested and sent to Whitetail. I started crying when I got to the Nightstalkers.

“I…I…I killed them…” I blubbered, mucus running down my muzzle. “I lit them on fire…” my dad put a hoof on my shoulder while I continued crying. My mother came to my side as well, and wrapped a foreleg around my neck.

Feeling reassured, I continued.

I told them about the fights I was in, what happened in Applewood, Timbucktu, Trot and Whitetail. But I did leave out a few things. My feelings toward Grover, (Sexual and violent alike) along with a few of my stickier interactions with ponies over the years. I told them about basically everything except my sex life, and why my body had changed. (I knew it had something to do with the scroll but nothing more than that)

When I finished I hung my head and stared intently at the floor. The silence in the room was deafening

I couldn’t even imagine what they were thinking. Or, I could, but none of it was very positive. They must think I’m such a screw up. I expected them to yell, berate me. Tell me what an idiot I’d been. Maybe even demand that I leave right then and there. What I wasn’t expecting; was them hugging me tight and telling me everything would be okay.

“Oh Silver…we’re so, so sorry.” My mother told me, stroking my mane gently; tears rolling off her cheeks and onto my head.

“We should have listened more…” my dad nuzzled my cheek. “We just wanted what we thought was best.”

“I’m so sorry…you must hate me…”

“No!” they hugged me tighter. Getting hard to breathe!

“Silver Scroll, that’s nonsense. We would never hate you. You just did what you had to, it doesn’t make you a bad pony,” My mother pointed at the door to the living room. “and what you did for that little filly proves it. It’s clear that she loves you to death and so do we.” Dad nodded in agreement, nuzzling me again.

I sniffed, wiped away the tears pouring from my eyes, and wrapped my forelegs around them both.

“Thanks.”

We sat together for a while, crying and hugging each other. When I finally cried myself dry, I disabled the spell on the door and gestured to it with a hoof.

“I’m sure Rose would like to see her mommy and grandparents, she’s probably upset, we’ve been talking so long.” My parents smiled brightly, my mother tearing up again, and started for the door. I got up from my chair and trotted to the door, but before I could open it somepony knocked.

“Um, Silver? I know you’re talking but Grover’s been awake for a while and...” Quill’s voice came through the door; her words made my heart thump in my chest. I threw the door open with my magic, causing Quill to jump a foot in the air. I trotted past her and went around the couch, where Rose was sitting curled up on Grover’s shoulder, watching him with interest as he skillfully sketched a griffon hen that could only be Sapphire. One little pony in my head was annoyed at this, but the other was so overjoyed to see Grover conscious that I ignored my selfish feelings, hopped onto the side of the couch and pulled them both into my forelegs.

Rose shrieked in surprise and Grover dropped his pencil. “Mommy!” I kissed her on the forehead and Grover on the cheek.

“Thank Celestia you’re awake! How are you feeling?” my parents stood on either side of me while Quill and her kids sat on a plush chair a few feet away. I noticed the five of them looking at me oddly out of the corner of my eye but I didn’t care. Grover was awake!

“I feel like I get hit with a mountain,” he stretched like a cat, (pun intended) picked up his pencil and turned towards me. “but I’m alive. So not too bad of a day. What about you?” I had covered his missing eye with some black cloth from Zenmir’s caravan and was relieved to see it was still there. Every time I saw it felt terrible. He’d still have it if I hadn’t screwed up. I even tried to restore it myself but the only way I could do it is if I cut his eye socket open and hallowed out the flesh inside. I shuddered at the thought.

“I’m fine,” hugging them tighter. “What about you Rose, how are you feeling?” I asked, nuzzling her cheek.

“I’m okay.” She answered awkwardly, looking at my parents over my shoulder. “Why do they keep looking at me like that?” she whispered. Once my parents noticed Rose they had been watching her with happy expressions. But they hadn’t said more than five words to her, like they were shy or something.

“That is a good question.” I released Grover and pulled Rose off the couch. “These are my parents, and your grandparents.” I put Rose on the floor and she immediately hid behind my forelegs.

“It’s alright dear,” my mother took a step towards us and held out her hoof. “I’m your grandma.” Rose hesitated for moment before taking a cautious step towards her. I found it odd that she was being shy now but didn’t hesitate to greet them when we first arrived.

“I never had a grandma before…” my mother smiled and scooped Rose in to a hug. The filly burst into a fit of giggles and I felt tears building in my eyes again.

She’ll be happy here.

Maximum Level Reached.