Princess Essenta

Chapters

Prologue: The Continent and the Dale
Chapter 1: The Princess of the Dale
Chapter 2: An Enjoyable Day
Chapter 3: House-Arrest
Chapter 4: The Fool's Errand
Chapter 5: Out of the Valley
Chapter 6: The Princess and the Brawler
Chapter 7: The Guard at the Bridge
Chapter 9: Lord of the "Fire Breathers"
Chapter 10: Playing Soldier
Chapter 11: The Fallen Knollwing
Chapter 12: Clarity
Chapter 13: Recruiting Orni, Part One
Chapter 14: Recruiting Orni, Part Two
Chapter 15: Tracking the Party
Chapter 16: Night Raid
Chapter 17: Unpleasant Truths
Chapter 18: The Town of Silas
Chapter 19: Journey into the Mindscape
Chapter 20: The Young Minds
Chapter 21: Personal Hell
Chapter 22: Return to the Journey
Chapter 23: Cruel Words
Chapter 24: The Demon
Chapter 25: The "City of Last Chances"
Chapter 26: Bed, Bath, & Breakfast
Chapter 27: Master Melchior
Chapter 29: Preparing For...
Chapter 30: ...The Mayoral Ball
Chapter 31: Chronophilia Substantiation
Chapter 32: Discovery?
Chapter 33: Sfilacci
Chapter 34: In the Hills
Chapter 35: Rededication
Chapter 37: Letting Go
Chapter 38: The Desert
Chapter 39: A Different Sort of Plague
Chapter 40: The Worst Kind of Pony
Chapter 41: The Southern Wilderness
Chapter 42: Cry in the Wilderness
Chapter 43: Separation
Chapter 44: Nuinhof
Chapter 45: A Plague of Terror
Chapter 46: Hope of Departure
Chapter 47: To Meet in the Jungle
Chapter 48: Cruelty
Chapter 49: Overkill
Chapter 50: Escape
Chapter 51: Expounded Horror
Chapter 52: The Savanna, Again
Chapter 54: The Hearts of Maidens, Part Two
Chapter 55: The Hearts of Maidens, Part Three
Chapter 56: The Hearts of Maidens, Part Four
Chapter 57: The Hearts of Maidens, Part Five
Chapter 58: Awakenings
Chapter 59: Tessa Andemax, Part One
Chapter 60: Tessa Andemax, Part Two
Chapter 61: Tessa Andemax, Part Three
Appendix for Princess Essenta (Contains Spoilers) (Updated July 21, 2019)
Chapter 8: We’ve Gotten to the Bridge… Let’s Cross It
Chapter 28: To Oust a Mayor
Chapter 36: New Beginnings and Final Endings
Chapter 53: The Hearts of Maidens, Part One

Prologue: The Continent and the Dale

Several millennia ago, long before Equestria, long before the great Princesses, even before ponies gained control over the world around them, bending it to their will, ponies still existed on that land.

They had resided there for thousands of years. Nopony was quite sure what happened before ponies came to the land, or even how far back they had done so. Little knowledge was known to exist from before the Great Centauri-Equine War. The end to that horrible war saw the land virtually destroyed. The ponies emerged victorious over the centaurs and the centaurs were driven off the continent. The land, overtime, came to be divided into countries as different ponies went where they would.

In the days before Equestria, there were still Earth ponies, unicorns, and Pegasi. But among the types of ponies there was more diversity, mostly among the Earth ponies and Pegasi. Their existence faded away after a time, but they held sway where they occurred.

The Terrans, called that for their own language, were Earth ponies of exceptional strength, with a magic unlike that of other Earth ponies. Relatively isolated for centuries, their ancestors had drawn their power from the mountains around which they lived.

Similarly, the Mazans existed. They were a group of Earth ponies that emigrated across the Great Eastern Sea soon after the end of the Great Centauri-Equine War. They came upon a magic, they learned, that exemplified the female sex. Males ceased to be born and stallions became infertile; to save their tribe, young mares journeyed the world, to find a mate. Mares continued this for millennia. They became, overtime, formidable and respected warriors… proud, skilled, and secluded in their queendom across the sea.

The last of these tribes were the Knollwings. These Pegasi were built differently than others, with a strange magic giving them heightened senses, physical strength, and overall intelligence. Dwelling in the mountains, they drew on a similar power as which the Terrans did.

Civilization had seen many wars, many confederations between warring countries and city-states. Many kings, rulers, and invaders came and went, as well as rebellions and uprisings. It was now the year 4781… that much time had passed since the Great War. To this point, nopony had managed to conquer the land as a whole…

Among the many countries on the continent, there was a land known as the Dale. Its name was appropriate, if uninspired, for it resided in the Eastern Central Valley.

While unicorns had yet to find a way to manipulate the environment to do their bidding, their grasp over magic allowed them to control other things. Most of these countries and even the smaller city-states, regardless of their overall populations, were ruled by unicorn families. Pegasi managed to control a few countries and the Knollwings had held their mountain strongholds for centuries. Even the Terrans held the great city-state Terrow, which boasted a great strength in commerce; it was a crossroads of the entire continent.

But the Earth ponies, the unremarkable ponies, sometimes looked down upon for only their ability to tend the land, had managed to hold onto the Dale for about seven centuries. An outwardly unexceptional place, the land responded to the Earth ponies in ways never seen at anywhere else in time or space.

The bounty of the land had saved the continent from famine several times in history. This was the reason why the land was left to the Earth ponies. Not unskilled warriors or crafters, agriculture was still their primary reason for being.

King Dale was an ambitious pony, though not particularly wise. He had never used the importance of his land to influence much of anything. It was not that he did not try, but sounder minds than his prevailed in the interest of peace and goodwill among their neighbors.

He could trace back his roots to well before the founding of the Dale. Many great kings, and poor kings, came and went, in war and peace. Now was a time of relative peace and its king was mediocre at best.

More than a decade had passed since the Confederation of the Valley had split up. He had taken the warriors he had to defend the valley against their enemies to the east. It had been more of an annoyance than anything, dealing with the petulant unicorn king of Joeh. For his trouble, King Dale took it upon himself to terrorize a few bordering villages of the Joeh Kingdom. Condemned by many of his neighbors for this needless violence and horror, King Dale paid little heed, and went on with ruling.

King Dale’s wife was a unicorn, offered to him with a handsome dowry from one of his neighbors to the west. He gladly accepted. She bore him 5 children: Essenta, Valles, Calleha, Abateles, and Durenes. As his children were born, he regretted more and more not looking harder for an Earth pony to be his queen. There weren’t that many, but royal families occasionally saw an Earth pony daughter if their family history allowed for it.

Valles, 16, his oldest son and second child, was an Earth pony. This pleased King Dale. What bothered him was that Valles was cruel, careless, stupid, and lazy. The idea he would succeed him gave him ulcers.

Abateles, 14, his second son and fourth child, caused great confusion the day he was born. A Pegasus was born to the queen and if her family history hadn’t come to light, showing it was possible for her to have a Pegasus foal, the king would have had his queen and his infant son thrown off a cliff for alleged infidelity. Later glad he had not been rash (rather his advisors stopped him from killing the little foal), Abateles proved to be loving, passionate, skilled in various arts, and a son to be proud of. If the king had not been so desperate to keep an Earth pony in power, the crown would belong to Abateles someday.

Durenes, 8, his third son and fifth child, was a mentally defective unicorn. There was little to say about the moron that couldn’t be explained by Durenes throwing pig shit at passersby.

That brought the king, grudgingly, to his daughters. Calleha, 15, his second daughter and third child, was a unicorn. She was kindhearted and earnest. She would make some king a lovely queen someday. That was about the best thing he could say about any mare or filly. The king was not one to value the female.

And of course, there was the last child… Essenta, 17, his first child and first daughter, was an Earth pony. He had never known quite what to do with this one. Ever since she could talk, all he had ever heard from her was “no”. Instead of doing the things Calleha proved to be so good at, such as being a little space-occupier and accomplished in domestic things, she was more interested in playing with other foals, even their rough games and other mischief, than playing princess… Not that she was not decent at sewing, cooking, languages, etc. Really… she could do just about anything well enough.

Perhaps the most unsettling thing about her was her desire to fight. To King Dale’s disgust and shock, she was a skilled enough fighter to beat some of the stallions in his contingency, even a few of his personal guards, in combat… and that was when she was 14. At 17, only a hoofful of stallions could best her. One characteristic he especially hated to see in another pony, specifically a filly or mare, was Essenta’s occasional cunning and more consistent will to succeed. Not that he was that accomplished in either other than in his own mind, it was appalling to see it in his daughter.

For years, she had been building sets of armor and all sorts of weapons in her little workshop. She enjoyed farming. Many a family had been aided by the princess’s influence, and often Essenta herself plowed fields, helped in field maintenance and harvest, and shouldered anything a peasant mare might. She taught foals to read and write, and of commerce at the local schoolhouse. Any trouble that came up in the kingdom, she was often the first to respond with a helpful hoof and a strong spirit.

The Dale loved its First Princess, her great kindness, and good humor. She was a beautiful ray of hope in sad times and good times alike. Nopony dared say it out loud, but if Essenta became Queen Dale… they could never be in better hooves.

But the world being what it was, they sadly tried to accept the fact she would be sent off somewhere, not too long into the future, to some other kingdom, to produce foals for some other blowhard king. The only thing that gave them any solace was the fact she would be an asset to other ponies. They chose to believe that no matter where she wound up, Essenta would turn the world on its ear to make it a better place.

Author's Note

Check out the Appendix for Princess Essenta, updated as the story moves along. It shows the story's timeline and character designs. Contains spoilers.

Thanks for reading my story. I'm trying something different. Instead of giving ponies "horse names", I thought I'd go the fantasy route.

Essenta's sister, Calleha, is a unicorn. I wrote "Earth pony" in the original draft and transferred it by mistake. I just noticed March 16 I made this goof. Just fixed it. This would explain why King Dale regretted marrying a unicorn, rather than an Earth pony.

Watch for the next chapter. Like, follow, or comment if you please.

Thanks for reading and take care.

Chapter 1: The Princess of the Dale

The Dale Arc

It was late spring in the year 4781. All the crops in the Dale had been planted. A healthy amount of snow had protected and refreshed the land, with gentle rains to help establish their hopefully bountiful harvest. It looked like it would be a warm summer, if the histories proved right… a nice, warm summer with just enough rain to help everything grow. It was quite a sight, the fields greening up with their emerging plants.

Outside the capitol of Greendale, one could see the castle standing above the rest of the city. Unlike many similar cities, there were no walls around Greendale. There was a wall around the castle, but the city was open and free, giving it a feeling unlike any other place in the Eastern Central Valley. The edges of the city gave way to great sprawls of farmland and storehouses, roads going off into every imaginable direction, giving the valley and surrounding areas easy access to the bounty of the Dale.

On a farm owned by an Earth pony and his family, Vess, master of the stead, was moving along his rows of beets. The fertile land also proved good for weeds, and the land was rife with them this year. A few bad days the year before delayed tilling out the weeds, allowing them to spill their seed all over Vess’s field.

He and his children, as well as a few neighbors were pulling and hoeing everything they could. They’d been out since dawn, and were looking forward to lunch, now that the sun was high in the sky. It wasn’t really that hot, but a break would be welcome.

Dressed in a simple tunic, her evenly cropped pastel orange mane and tail coated in muck, Princess Essenta struggled with a particularly nasty thistle. But it came up, roots and all. She knew there was only so much to do about these nasty perennial weeds, but if they could keep them from reproducing, that was something. Looking around, she noted the decent progress they’d made that day.

She was glad to see so many had come out to help. There weren’t that many unicorns, but they sure were helpful in a farming operation. The citizens of Greendale helped each other out when they could. They couldn’t afford not to. Not greedy but knowing how precious their land and commerce was to so many, they did everything to maximize their efforts.

After working along her row a few more minutes, Essenta leaned on her hoe. Her back was killing her. Then again, so was everypony else’s. Giving a quick stretch, she got back to it. It came as a relief when Vess’s wife called out to them.

“Food’s on, everypony! Come get you some.”

Along with the others in the field, Essenta shouldered her tool and trotted towards the farmhouse. She smiled at the foals cheering. They’d been out there working just as hard as anypony else and were ready for a break. A few foals gathered to the princess.

“Princess, can you stay for lunch?”

“Princess Essenta, can we play?”

The princess laughed at the little ones, leaning her hoe on a rack with the others, “I’m afraid not… I have some business at the castle later today.”

The young ones voiced their disappointment but knew Essenta had her royal duties to attend to. Anyway, they could play another time.

Essenta yawned and stretched, cracking her back a little, “Vess, do you think you have enough help later today? I could try to send a few out here… I know a few ponies that still haven’t worked off their winter roundness.”

Vess laughed, “Oh, no. I think we have this covered. Everypony here has agreed to stay the rest of the day. We should be fine. Thank you so much for your help, Princess.”

Essenta often wished ponies would just call her by her given name, but she was a princess. She supposed some formalities needed to be observed.

Vess’s wife approached, “Princess, I know you have to get back to the castle, but would you like some shepherd’s pie for the road?”

Essenta wasn’t hungry, “Oh, thank you, but I couldn’t eat another bite. There was this huge patch of plantain in my row and… well, you know I’m fond of the stuff.”

The princess wasn’t above eating much of anything, and what pony didn’t enjoy plantain? Wishing her well, they went to join their friends and family. Essenta dusted off her tunic a little and trotted into town.

As she made her way through the market place, ponies greeted her from every direction.

“Hello, Princess!”

“Good day, Princess!”

“Does Vess need any more help today?”

Essenta smiled at this, “He said they were fine, but I’m sure he wouldn’t mind an extra set of hooves later.”

She trotted on, greeting and receiving greetings. She wasn’t in a big hurry, but she couldn’t dawdle either. She suspected some ponies knew already, but she had a suitor visiting that day. They came occasionally, now that she would soon come of age. And she hated it.

She liked some of the princes and kings that came through, they were good ponies, but she had no interest in being tied down somewhere. Still, she knew it to be her duty as a princess of the Royal Family of Dale. She knew since she was young, this would happen someday, but back then it seemed such a long way off. Now it was there and as plain as the grime on her tunic.

Essenta didn’t look forward to the scolding she would receive from her chambermaids. It would take some doing to get her up to snuff for a royal meeting. She’d have to take a bath, select a gown, have her mane done up, and sit through some clumsy old mare slopping on some makeup. She knew she would probably do the makeup herself, upon seeing those shaky, old hooves. Essenta loved old Rosy, but it was time for her to retire and enjoy some time with her grandfoals.

Leaving the courtyard surrounding the castle, she was greeted by a couple guards at the gate. They smiled, saluted, and raised their pikes to let her through.

“Good afternoon, Princess. How are things out at Vess’s?”

“Weeds are coming up pretty heavily this year, but they should have it taken care of in a few days.”

The other guard nodded, “Uh… you might want to avoid your father for now. He’s sore that you took off this morning.”

She scoffed, “Since when is Father not sore with me? We went over everything last night. I’m not worried about the meeting.”

The first guard chuckled, “Well… good luck, Princess Essenta.”

A little smile on her face, she trotted through the gate. She wasn’t concerned about the suitor. She’d managed to scare off the rest of them without even trying. Literally, she just acted like herself, with no malice, and they pulled any offers of dowries, tucked tail, and ran home. Her father looked furious, like he was about to bust a blood vessel, every time it happened. Essenta didn’t care much. She didn’t really care what her father thought about much of anything.

But what would she do about the future? She couldn’t just be a princess forever… Someday, she would be a queen. Trying to ignore the twisting in her stomach, she sighed, now outside her bedroom. Let’s just see what they brought in this time.

Author's Note

Finally broke up the first chapter into a prologue and Chapter 1. Just something I've wanted to do.

Chapter 2: An Enjoyable Day

The Dale Arc

Essenta sat in a lukewarm tub, as a few of her unicorn attendants scrubbed her in the royal castle bath. Normally, she would have bathed herself, but she was so filthy from her work in the field, an Earth pony had little chance of cleaning herself. After soaking off the worst of the soil, she was made to stand while they continued to scrub and rinse, scrub and rinse…

Finally, she was clean and stinking of perfume, to cover up what her attendants called her “earthly rank”. The earthy smell never left her mane or coat, and they did their best to nullify it.

Old Rosy, her oldest and only Earth pony attendant, began to fiddle with her mane, but there wasn’t a lot to do with it, its even cropped length barely allowing for anything other than down. The same could be said of her tail.

“Princess… you know your father’s been telling you to let your mane and tail grow longer. There’s so little I can do with it! I can’t even put in your headpiece.”

“Oh, piss on the headpiece. I’ll wear the sterling diadem and a half-veil.”

Old Rosy blanched, “Princess! Such language!”

Essenta grinned, bobbing her head away from Old Rosy’s hooves, almost yelling, “Fuck! Shit! Twat! Jizzy hoofkerchief! Cummy mattress! Gobble creature!”

The elderly attendant was horrorstruck, “Essenta! You’re going to give your Old Rosy a heart storm! Please stop.”

The princess chuckled, she could still get Old Rosy to use her given name. She missed that… When she became a teenager, nopony but her immediate family dared to call her just “Essenta”.

“Now, hush, and let me put on your makeup.”

Seeing Old Rosy’s shaky hooves, Essenta gently pushed them away, “Rosy, you do so much for me. Why not take it a little easier? Spend some time with your own family.”

She knew Old Rosy had several sons and daughters and so many grandfoals she couldn’t remember all their names.

“Oh, Princess, you know it’s my duty to serve you. It has been since you were born.”

“Yes, but please relax a little… And I’m sorry for the language. It’s just so much fun to see you freak out.”

“Oh, it’s alright, dear… I know you’re just having a little fun… It may be the only fun you get to have for the rest of the day.”

Essenta considered this; it may be true, “Dear Rosy, I can do the makeup… But I’ll need help with the gown. Nopony knows the best gown for any occasion like you do.”

The old mare looked at her shaky hooves and smiled; she knew the princess loved her and had her best interests at heart, “Very well… but if you have any trouble, there are steadier hooves than mine available.”

While Old Rosy and one of her other attendants chose a gown appropriate for the visiting prince and his family, she applied just a little makeup. A natural beauty, if a little plain, she didn’t really need the stuff, but a little did enough to cover up what few flaws she had.

She wondered what gown would be brought out. While she would never admit it, especially with the front she tried to maintain, she loved to dress up. While simple tunics and even her own armor suited her, it was nice to gussy up occasionally.

Her attendants didn’t disappoint: they brought out a tan, mid-length gown, with minimum ruffles. The things she liked most about it were its ability to hide stains and the fact it in no way hid her athletic physique. She knew a lot of her suitors were already on their way again the moment they saw she was probably stronger than they were.

With her plain, but agreeable diadem in her mane under the white veil and her gown, she admired herself in her mirror. Wowza, Princess! You look pretty good. She grinned to herself. She was ready.

A while later, Essenta went to check on her sister, Calleha. Not overly needy or pitiful, she was still a higher maintenance pony than Essenta. She and her attendants fussed over her ebony mane and hairpiece. She had on a long, poofy blue gown that complemented her pastel orange coat, which was almost the color of Essenta’s mane and tail.

“Looking good, little sister,” Essenta sang from the doorway.

Calleha looked up, “Essenta! Good afternoon… What?”

Eying Essenta’s gown and veil, she did a take and smiled, “Essenta, you look like you’re on your way to a funeral!”

The big sister scoffed, “Oh, I do not! Are you ready?”

A unicorn was finishing up tying her mane back, “Now I am.”

Calleha walked regally to join her sister. Essenta chuckled at her manner. Calleha really knew how to observe correctness. Looking over her younger sister, she was reminded of just how much she’d grown in the last couple years. Almost as tall as her, but not nearly as muscular, she had become a real beauty… Essenta, deep down, did envy Calleha’s mane. It was slightly wavy and had volume. Her own mane was… well, other than the color, which she liked, it was boring. She could have done something with it, but it was so straight, all she could do was grow it out. This was the main reason she kept it shorter, not just because it was practical.

As they came near Abetelles’s room, he emerged in a stately, but practical tunic, “Good afternoon, ladies.”

He took Calleha’s hoof and smiled at her, “My dear sister… who’s your friend, and why does she look like she’s going to a funeral?”

Calleha laughed, “Oh, Abe! I told her the same thing!”

Essenta scowled at him. For as tough as she was, she knew she was no match for him, and it pissed her off a little. Still… he was her favorite brother and she loved him as such, even if he did give her a lot of grief, knowing she couldn’t best him physically. While she had to learn most everything she knew about fighting on her own or in secret, Abe had access to the best teachers in the land.

She tried not to be jealous of him and he never lorded it above her… it was just the way of the world. Admittedly, he’d teach her everything he learned, but only after he had enough of a grasp on it that she couldn’t use it against him effectively. It frustrated her, but she couldn’t blame him. It was the only way to stay ahead of her.

“Ha, ha, little brother… How are you today?”

“Meh. Father set me up with a teacher of the Terran language today…”

Essenta knew this was a sore spot for Abe. While he excelled in most things, he had little gift for different tongues. It was something she was at least decent at. But she wouldn’t give him grief about it. Both sisters and Abe were reasonably intelligent and did well in most of their studies. Their other two brothers, though…

“Durenes, you little bastard! Stop hanging on my leg!”

Calleha shuddered, while Essenta and Abe looked grim. It was their brother Valles, dragging himself along with their idiot brother hanging on him. Neither noticed the other three immediately.

Whether Valles was just naturally stupid, or he took it easy in life because of his position in the world, nopony knew. They did know he was careless, cruel, and lazy on top of being stupid though. He was also physically weak, taking little interest in much of anything involving using his own physical power.

Durenes was… just dumb. The physicians didn’t know what was wrong with him. For some reason, probably because stupidity, carelessness, cruelty, and laziness meant something stimulating for him, he clung to his eldest brother. Essenta, Calleha, and Abe felt it couldn’t have happened to a nicer pair of ponies.

Essenta barked, “Durenes! Get off Valles and behave yourself. We have guests.”

The little unicorn immediately let go and stood at attention. It was widely believed Essenta was the only pony in the world Durenes would listen to and obey. He’d also listen to Abe, sometimes, but only if Abe laid on a little physical persuasion. Abe knew what made the little fool tick.

Valles looked at them, straightening his tunic, “Why, Essenta… you look like you’re going to a funeral… though, if Father likes this one, and you don’t scare him off, you might as well be… your own.”

He laughed nastily. Essenta had nothing to say to this. Valles was an asshole and she knew him to be so. Durenes laughed along with Valles, and Abe cuffed him. That got the little one’s attention and he stood stiff as starch again.

Abe sighed, “Everypony settle down. The Fulco family is a great ally to the Dale. We need their support and we need to stay on good terms.”

Often cutting to the chase, Abe spoke truly. They walked on. Essenta thought a bit. Of course, Father wants to stay on good terms. I’m his bargaining chip. Their mother was presented to King Dale with a large dowry, but whomever Essenta wound up being sent off to, their father wouldn’t be paying anything.

Everypony wanted a piece of the Dale. Everypony wanted to be on good terms with the Dale. Everypony wanted in on the Dale. And there were plenty of Kingdoms out there that would pay 500,000 gold pieces for a princess of the Dale. That much gold was the worth of three years of decent harvests. Their father had two such ponies at his disposal. 1,000,000 gold pieces… that’s what Calleha and I are to him… It was sad, but true. Essenta saw herself on a stage, with kings and princes waving cards, trying to outbid each other.

Essenta had no intention of causing too much trouble for her Father… but she had no intention to marry whatever showed up that day, either.

Upon entering the reception hall, the guards directed them over to their seating… and their parents, the king and queen. King Dale had a majestic cape over his ornate tunic, his crown perched on his head. The queen had a gown that put Calleha’s to shame: it was a cream-colored silk piece of the finest quality. Essenta found herself wondering how many families could have eaten for a month on the value of it…

The king looked over, “Ah, children… welcome.”

Despite his pleasant tone, he glowered at Essenta. Everything about her offended his senses: her manner of dress, her shorter mane, and of course, the look she had in her eyes. She wasn’t afraid of her father… maybe she should have been, but… meh.

The queen gushed over how beautiful Calleha was becoming and how handsome her colts were. Essenta didn’t really give a rat’s ass. Her mother often tried to overlook the things she got up to. In fact, once, when her mother was drunk, she stated if Essenta hadn’t come out of her, she would be hard-pressed to believe she was her filly. The more she thought about this, the more it hurt. She wanted to be closer to her mother but was about as interested in her goings-on as she was a bag of sawdust. Queen Dale was boring.

Fussing, the queen got her children lined up. The Fulco king and his family were soon entering. Essenta didn’t know much about the Kingdom of Fulco, other than they kissed her father’s ass pretty heavily. They were a unicorn family, no surprise, and functioned more as a distributor of goods and produce than an actual producer of anything worthwhile. They were merchants and relied on others to do the heavy lifting. She wondered what kind of candy-assed stallion the 19-year-old prince might be.

She wouldn’t have to wait long; a few trumpeters entered from the hall and blew a reveille. A unicorn stallion in a plain tunic entered among them and read from a scroll.

“On behalf of the Kingdom of Fulco, we are privileged to introduce King Fulco and his queen, and his son, Prince Asklepiades.”

The Fulco family entered. To Essenta’s interest, the prince was a Pegasus, despite his parents being unicorns. It was no big surprise, considering her own family. King Fulco embraced King Dale roughly and was given a hearty embrace in return.

“Ansgar Dale, my old friend! I haven’t seen you in years!”

“Likewise, Leofwine. I suppose the journey was a little long for your other children.”

“Well, my next oldest is sick and the others are really too young for such a trip… but they’re in good hooves. It was hard enough to get Seraphina to come along, but I’m glad she was willing.”

As the queens embraced warmly, and gave pecks on the cheek, Queen Dale gushed, “Seraphina, it’s so good to see you!”

“Hello, Media.”

Essenta knew this was no false show. The families loved each other… at least the adults did. King Fulco served alongside her father in the war. They’d trained together when they were colts and were blood brothers. Queen Fulco was a longtime friend of her mother. She’d met the other queen a few times, but more often, her mother would go visit the Fulco Kingdom to see her old friend. Still… money was the driving factor behind everything happening that day.

While the adults carried on, Essenta heard Valles chuckling nastily about it, with Durenes imitating his eldest brother. She had a mind to give them each a good wallop. She didn’t enjoy this either, but she would at least respect decorum. Just before she was about to lay into them, Abe saved her the trouble. One thing Abe definitely had on his sister was his knowledge of pressure points and locks. The two idiots quietly gasped as Abe pressed his hooves into their kidneys.

“Shut up, you idiots,” Abe smiled at Essenta, who smiled in return. She loved Abe.

The colts, in extreme pain, nodded. Abe let go and their brothers staggered. They looked sore, but they weren’t about to take on Abe. Calleha grimaced at the show, wishing her siblings would just take it easy.

At this point, King Fulco came up with his son, “Princess Essenta, I present to you my firstborn son and heir, Prince Asklepiades.”

The prince took her hoof and kissed it, while Essenta curtsied, “Hello, Princess. Please… call me Askle. Just Askle. Prince Asklepiades is a bit of a mouthful, isn’t it?”

Looking at Askle’s roguish grin and his father’s poorly contained anger and embarrassment at the informality, she was charmed. Their eyes met, and it was clear they had the same idea… this could be fun.

“Well, you may call me Essenta then, but nothing less than that… There’s only one pony I let call me ‘Sen’… Another calls me… ‘Captain’, if that pleases you.”

Askle and Essenta tried not to laugh, their cheeks puffing up. But they broke and laughed heartily, though not wildly. Their parents looked on, horrorstruck. Essenta’s siblings were aghast, partly because of their sister’s behavior, but mostly from the look on their father’s face.

Before anything else could happen, King Dale introduced the Fulco family to the rest of his children. Many a “my, how big you’ve gotten”, and “you’re starting to look as beautiful as your mother” were heard. Essenta and Askle stood off to the side, watching.

“Askle, how long were you on the road?”

“About a week. I’m just glad it stopped raining. Until we got to your borders, it was a nightmare.”

“The rain just stopped two days ago, here. Most of the ponies in town are trying to clear weeds from their fields before it starts up again.”

“I’ve never seen such land. It’s little wonder the Dale is called the valley’s breadbasket.”

As the rest of the family sat down, Essenta motioned Askle to join them, “Well, here it goes.”

Askle chuckled, “Yes… Let’s get this over with.”

They all sat, Essenta across from Askle. He waggled his eyebrows at her and she in turn laughed and rolled her eyes. They made silly faces back and forth, much to the chagrin of their families. She didn’t really mean to scare off this prince; they were just having a little fun. Their parents, at once were shocked and not dissatisfied. The royal children were getting along. It was so far removed to Essenta’s siblings though, they could only sit like statues.

Hoping some refreshments would calm things down, King Dale clapped. Food and drink was brought out immediately. Essenta still wasn’t hungry from stuffing herself in the beet field’s weedy patches, but she contented herself with drink.

King Dale began to chat with his friend and their wives, when he noticed what his eldest daughter was up to. She grabbed, to her father and mother’s horror, the large jug of the ale King Dale was so fond of. It was a coarse and cheap beverage that reminded him of his younger days. He had learned recently, Essenta loved the stuff even more than he did.

While she poured herself a large mug of the stuff, he recalled some night two weeks earlier, after a long day of planting. Well, he and his family weren’t planting… except Essenta. She’d been pulling a plow the entire day and wound up going to one of the pubs in town with a bunch of lowly farmers. It wasn’t the first time.

He’d been so angry she skipped her afternoon lessons to associate with their kind, he and a contingency of guards went looking for her. He found her there, drinking one of the town drunks right under the table with the very beverage she now sucked down. Never, in his entire life, even in some of the far-flung places in which he fought, had he ever seen a mare drink like that. His daughter! The First Princess of the Dale!

Against his better judgement, he attempted to have her seized. Instead, she instigated a bar brawl and disappeared while everypony was occupied. The next morning, she was in the field again. It infuriated him, but he could think of nothing to do. If it were anypony else, he’d have them hanged for the trouble she caused.

Askle was also sampling the ale, if by sampling, one meant quaffing. He and Essenta were guzzling the junk, and the rest of the ponies looked on, unable to even exchange pleasantries. This went from friendly to weird quickly, while the rest of them attempted in vain to converse.

Soon, the ale was gone. Essenta hoofed the whiskey she wasn’t so fond of, but would drink anyway, and started pouring drams of the stuff for herself and Askle. At this point, the queens were ready to faint. They got worse and worse as the minutes went on.

Things came to a head when Essenta let out a little burp… not even a big one… and by accident. Queen Fulco ran at that. She ran screaming. It might have been funny if not so catastrophic. King Fulco took off after her. Then Queen Dale took off after both of them. King Dale stared daggers at Essenta, who coolly looked back. She knew she was in for it but didn’t care. What would he do? String her up to a whipping post? With nothing else to do, King Dale went after the other adults.

Essenta’s siblings, save the dummy unicorn looked in raw terror at what had just happened. They’d seen their sister scare away suitors through acts of strength, unpolished behavior, and even by tracking mud in from the fields. But she’d never had that much to drink in front of guests… and ale at that! What’s more, the suitor joined in on her game.

Essenta and Askle looked after their parents, incredulous looks on their faces. Then they threw their heads back and laughed.

Essenta stood up, grabbing the whiskey bottle, “Askle? Want to see the town?”

He stood up, a grin plastered on his face, “Sure. Hell knows what’s gonna happen now. Might as well have a little fun.”

Without another word, the two ambled from the hall, leaving Essenta’s shocked siblings.

“That’s the old mill. Part of it looks new, but that’s because its rafters burned up last year. Lightning strike…” Essenta paddled along, pointing this out to Askle.

He took a pull of the whiskey, “Aren’t you worried about your father? I mean, really! He’s gonna have your hide for this!”

“Meh. Maybe. You just had to play along…” Essenta grinned fiendishly.

Askle laughed at this, “Sure, but I didn’t think things would go that far. You got… carried away.”

They walked through town, and the townsponies didn’t seem to know what to be confused about. Their princess was walking around, getting drunk, with a prince of Fulco. They were in their formal attire, Essenta still wearing her veil. And neither seemed to care.

Essenta considered this, “It’s weird to walk around and have nopony call out to me. I was through here earlier and it was ‘hello, Princess’ this, that…”

“Well, I suppose they didn’t expect to see you staggering through town without an escort.”

“Escort my ass. I’m tougher than half the guards here.”

Askle just about jumped at her language, “Essenta!”

“Well, I am. Just this morning, I was out pulling weeds in a beet field. Didn’t have an escort then.”

“…Pulling weeds?”

“Sure… we Dale folk help each other when we can.”

He was flabbergasted, “But you’re First Princess! You’re 17! Your father wants to marry you off and you’re out working the fields?!”

“What crawled up your ass, Askle?”

That did it. Any attempt at keeping his composure fell apart. Askle guffawed and laughed until he was crying. Essenta looked at him oddly, and this was funnier still. Soon, she found herself joining in. If I could be his queen… I think I could live with that. It was a fleeting thought, for she had an idea.

“Askle, I want to show you something. Come with me.”

“Wow… some view.”

The two royals sat on a grassy knoll overlooking Greendale.

Essenta peered at it lovingly, “I know… This is my favorite spot in the entire kingdom. My friends and I used to play here… we still do sometimes.”

Askle looked over. The princess really was something.

“Essenta… when I came here today, I figured I’d meet some frilly basket case, but… meeting you? It made the whole trip worth it. I’ve had fun.”

“Oh, I’m glad you enjoyed it… I just hope it’s worth the trouble I’ll be dealing with later.”

He smirked, “The trouble we’ll both be dealing with.”

The two of them sat. Neither had fallen for the other or anything, but they had a nice day together. Essenta tipped back the whiskey bottle, a drop falling out. Looking over the fields, it was darkening, and ponies began to stream back into town.

“Well, no reason for this to slow down our day.”

“What do you mean?”

Essenta looked back at him with a glint in her eye, “You’re about to see the second-best thing the Dale has to offer.

“C’mon, Princess! Drink!”

The townsfolk, stunned at seeing their princess trot around town with some prince, magically came out of their collective shells when they got a little alcohol in them.

Essenta was having a chug race with the farmer Vess. Each mug was a good quart. While Vess put up a good effort, Essenta turned hers over first, giving it a hearty slam on the table. The crowd roared. It was a strange sight to Askle… the princess in her stained gown, veil soaked in ale somepony accidentally spilled on her, laughing and embracing her townsponies.

But he didn’t suppose it was that strange. He himself was staggering around in the same territory as she was. He’d never seen a mare able to drink that much. She could probably out-drink him. A Pegasus himself, his metabolism and way his body worked lowering his natural tolerance, he was still astonished she could do it.

Before he knew what was happening, a raucous dance began, with everypony jumping around, happily drunk off liquor and life. The band fired up in the corner. The next thing he knew, he was dancing along with them, across and alongside some gorgeous fillies and mares.

It was the most fun he’d had… well… ever. Soon he found himself with the princess in his arms. Everything quieted down a moment… then they abruptly broke into dance, watched by everypony else. They weaved and bobbed, him flipping her over himself and twirling her. With a jaunt of music, they finished, Askle holding Essenta by a hoof. The crowd cheered while the two of them panted. Their eyes locked, the two of them just about fell for each other. For the first time that day, Askle saw her blush… and it wasn’t just the alcohol.

Spinning loose, to his disappointment, Essenta moseyed over to the bar, “Another mug of ale, please!”

“Sorry Princess,” the bartender shrugged. “Keg’s just about tapped out for the night… can’t get a siphon out of it. Settle for wine?”

Essenta gave him a look to freeze fire and then smirked. She grabbed the wooden keg and dragged it from behind the bar. Ponies gathered around… they had to see this. Askle watched. If he hadn’t fallen for the princess yet, what he was about to see sealed the deal.

After yanking out the spigot, she grabbed the keg and lifted it. It was a feat no other mare there could probably do, even with the keg empty. Hell, some of the stallions there couldn’t have done it either. Bringing the siphoning hole to her mouth, she began to drain the barrel. It took her a minute. Awestruck, and some just plain put-off, they all watched their princess suck down that cask to its last drop.

She finished. Holding the barrel over her head, she let out a thunderous belch that shook the rafters. With a grimace on her face, she threw the barrel down in front of her, where it shattered pleasingly. The entire bar thundered its approval, while Essenta reeled around, receiving hearty congratulations from ponies of every shape, size, and age.

Soon after, Essenta and Askle were staggering away from the bar, the party still going. It was quite late by now, and the sun had long since gone down.

Askle hooted, “Essenta! That. Was. Something else!”

Leaning on him, she giggled, “Yeah… I didn’t think I’d be able to do it. That thing was heavy.

“Not that… Just… this city! That bar! You! Your ponies love you! How… how do you do it?”

She stopped a moment. She’d never thought much about it. She just… loved her ponies, and they loved her. They were her friends. She may have been a princess, and they may have been beholden to call her that, but she was their friend, too. She didn’t think of them as subjects… she thought of them as… family. A big family she would miss terribly the day she was sent off to play queen somewhere.

But she couldn’t put this into words, “I… don’t know, Askle. It’s hard to explain…”

“…”

But she tried anyway, “This is… my home. I never want to leave here…”

Her earnestness moved him.

She went on, “But sometime soon… Father’s going to send me away… He’ll collect his mountain of gold and send me away. I’m… scared. That’s all I am to him… His least favorite child… His wayward daughter… I want nothing more than to stay here… I’ve… been able to scare off everypony that’s come this way with a dowry and… I do it because I’m scared. I was hellbent on meeting you today and driving you off…”

Pacing a little, she sniffled, “So I went out of my way to do it. I’m… not so pretty, and I tried to show that. I was ready to send another suitor packing, but when I met you… I was glad. I was glad to make a friend... if only for the day. After this, we may never see each other again. I wish… I hadn’t caused such a fuss.”

He was wowed by her. He respected her… And… yup, he was definitely falling for her now. He couldn’t hold back.

“Essenta… I came hear today, determined to leave with no prospects of marriage… but… this day with you has been great. And you are beautiful! You look great, even now. And I did have fun! I had so much fun! And for what it’s worth- I’m sure our fathers are just gonna part on bad terms and we’ll be pulled along for the ride- if I had to get married… if you’d be my queen… I’d be more than alright with that."

Taken aback, she investigated his eyes. He looked back into hers, amethyst in color and watery in quality. A sad little smile came to her lips. He meant it. She went close to him.

“I… feel the same way…”

He wasn’t quite ready for this, but he had come to want it. Her eyes went to half-mast and her lips parted a little. They put a hoof on the other’s shoulder and moved in. Their lips almost touched when-

“Princess Essenta! There you are!”

The two split apart instantly and lights flooded on them.

Essenta peered into the darkness, “Captain Lugaid! Hey!”

The Captain of the Guard grimaced at her messy appearance, “Oh, Princess! What have you been up to?”

A Fulco guard came forward, “And… Prince Asklepiades? We’ve been looking for you for hours!”

Essenta beamed blearily at Askle, “Busted, buddy.”

He chuckled, “Yup.”

Then, Essenta stopped laughing.

Askle leaned in, “Essenta?”

Not a second later, he maneuvered away as she violently voided the contents of her stomach into a shrub. Askle held back what was left of her veil, a mixture of horror and amusement on his face.

“Oh, Essenta… Gross.”

The guards groaned and looked on in disbelief. What a night this turned out to be.

Author's Note

Check out the Appendix for Princess Essenta, updated as the story moves along. It shows the story's timeline and character designs. Contains spoilers.

Oh, that princess... always up to some mischief. Just how will King Dale deal with his troublesome daughter? And what of the Dale-Fulco Alliance?

The princess had her fun and now she will pay for it. Or will she?

I hadn't planned on releasing a new chapter for at least a few days, but it was ready and I had fun writing it. Look for the next chapter in a week or so.

Chapter 3: House-Arrest

The Dale Arc

King Dale sat alone in his throne room. So vexed was he, he dismissed his own personal guard to the hall, so he could think. The last month had been like a bad dream. His old friend, King Fulco, had left the Dale in a fury, with his entourage in tow. Leofwine Fulco had sworn he would never again set hoof in the Dale as long as that “nightmare princess” was still residing there. And naturally, his son, the prince, would never come back either.

The king was generally unworried about trade taking a hit; it was too essential to cast aside over what still wasn’t a petty squabble. It was his friendship with his old blood brother that bothered him… that, and the half a million gold pieces Essenta seemed to be worth to everypony.

He’d actually been hopeful for a moment- for the first time since Essenta learned to say the word “no” to him- that she would be okay with Prince “Askle” Fulco. Even though his daughter’s poor choice of dress and the prince’s “roguish manner” sent his mind reeling, the two royal children had become fast friends… It had been a little bumpy, but it was a start.

Then… then the two of them had to put on that show! He was often ashamed of his eldest and youngest son for their disgusting behavior, but nothing they ever did matched Essenta’s worst. He knew Queen Fulco was more than a little weak to any manner of rude behavior, and the little belch Essenta uttered sent her packing… along with his own wife and King Fulco. Why, he himself once cut a fart during such a meeting, but rude noises from a lady?!

If that wasn’t bad enough, Essenta had dragged off the prince and taken him on a tour of town. It wasn’t the first time she had done such a thing. When she was younger, she often stole a young prince off somewhere to show him a fun time- and not anything romantic in nature- just… fun. They’d be found later playing with some other foals- common foals- filthy and full of sweets.

But what she did with Prince Fulco… they got drunk and tore through town, unattended- not that Essenta couldn’t throw a follow if she wanted to- and disappeared. Then to find her puking in the silversmith’s shrub, the prince laughing it up and helping her along… was too much to bear. She and the prince danced a dance that was… well, forbidden among royals. Then after out drinking everypony at the pub, she literally finished off the ale dregs from a full-size barrel, lifting it in an embrace!

The prince had sworn up and down, on his honor, Essenta’s honor, on his family, that nothing happened… other than the drunken shenanigans. And he believed the prince. He may have been one of the few that did. The prince had practically begged that somepony thank Essenta on his behalf. He’d had… fun. He’d had more fun than he could ever remember having… with his friend. King Dale was an icy pony, but that struck him. He knew other ponies valued his daughter in ways he couldn’t begin to comprehend. Often, he wished he could see what they saw… but he didn’t.

All that aside, the damage was done. King Fulco and his entourage would never speak of what happened. But the entire city of Greendale knew the whole sordid affair the next morning. Traders and travelers knew… and now, so did the entire valley and a few surrounding lands.

The fact Essenta was a princess that dug ditches, pulled plows, helped tar roofs, outfought trained soldiers, and drank ale never deterred any suitors… until they actually met her. But this! What she and the prince had been up to were beyond the pale. With visiting suitors, however put off they might have been by the coarse princess, there was at least hope of selling her off…

Now, since that wild night, he hadn’t received any requests, pleas, or even humble beggings to meet Essenta. All that gold… and Calleha was still a couple years too young to even think about “giving away”.

He thought of his wife. She had taken to bed for about a week after that fiasco. His sons were all cowed. Everypony was on edge, as if King Dale was just waiting for an excuse to hang somepony… If he was unconcerned with a full-scale rebellion, his subjects probably loyal to her above him, he would have punished Essenta with extreme severity. He wouldn't have killed her, but...

He’d had Essenta locked in her room, ever since she woke up with that two-day hangover. She was under guard. He was so furious with her, he had no idea what to do about it. He had to think. And oh, how his head hurt…

Essenta was lying on her bed, staring at the ceiling. She was boooooooored. Her father had ordered all her books and entertainment out. All there was to read were holy texts, telling her what a bad girl she was, and books on decorum and behavior. Her father had ordered these- and only these- to reside with her, in hopes she’d read some on it. Scoffing, she refused. She knew everything in those texts by heart… she just hated all of it.

Even the smuggling she was used to seeing when she was under house-arrest wasn’t happening. Other than her father, mother, and two of her brothers, everypony in the castle loved Essenta and wouldn’t see her go without some semblance of enjoyment. A funny poem or a bar of chocolate can really raise a pony’s spirit when she’s grounded. If nopony dared help her out, then her father was more pissed off than usual.

She wouldn’t say she’d regretted what she’d done with Askle. It had been fun. Hopefully, he wasn’t going through the same crap she was… The thing that bothered her most was… the “near kiss”. Well... the dance too. She knew it would sound funny to most, but she was upset with herself for letting things go that far.

For all the disobedience, and questionable behavior, she exhibited over her 17 years, she had never- never- done anything to compromise any level of her purity. She supposed it was her one way of honoring her father. Regardless of whatever the future held for her, it was her place in the world to be a queen someday. And as much as she hated it, she would go to her king unbesmirched, faithful, and ready to pump out little princes and princesses for him.

She’d made friends with plenty of princes over the years. Hell, sometimes she’d receive harmless letters from them. And she wrote back. She corresponded with many stallions, even some who had become kings or having come to be married. It was unusual to see such a thing, but nothing forbade it. They were her friends…

But Askle… he was the first prince, colt or stallion, she had actually… fallen for. If the guards hadn’t found the two of them… she could imagine where things would have wound up. They would have been hurriedly married the next day, with or without that fat dowry her father was beating off thinking about. That… wouldn’t have been so bad… But it wouldn’t have been on her terms, even if she did like him.

Her one condition for obeying her father was she would marry a prince or king that… she loved... whomever it turned out to be. Not that she’d ever had the guts to say that out loud. And in the grand scheme of things, that cup would hold no water. In the end, it didn’t matter what she thought or wanted. If this sounds confusing, it was to Essenta as well.

Coming from her thoughts, Essenta heard a clatter of hooves at her window.

“Sen…”

Looking over, Essenta spotted Dechaa Beiran. She was a very pretty unicorn mare, just a little older than her, with a straw-colored coat and ebony mane, tied back from her face. Her brown eyes were sharp, but friendly. The two of them had been best friends for about 13 years.

Essenta sat up and quietly paddled over to let her in, “Dechaa, how’d you get up here?”

Dechaa smiled, “I finally got the teleportation spell working… a little. I can jump about 30 feet in any direction.”

Essenta smiled. Dechaa was something of an acrobat. But she could also fight, a little. But oddly, though it never showed up in her family before, her affinity was healing magic. She’d… probably saved Essenta’s life more than once, with some of the dumb stuff she had gotten up to.

She hugged her friend, “Well, I’m glad for that! How are you? I haven’t seen you or Zyra in a month.”

Dechaa chuckled humorously, “Well, what’d you think was gonna happen? The whole town’s still in an uproar. I think your father had a mind to whip anypony that crosses him.”

Dechaa wasn’t known for any affinity in breaking rules. She was the single straightest arrow Essenta had ever known. It was a wonder they’d managed to stay friends, as different as they were. The only reason they’d even met in the first place, was the fact Dechaa’s father was on the king’s council… A Beiran had sat on the council for generations, knighted and respected. Dechaa’s mother, Lady Beiran, was warden of the castle.

“Dechaa, I’m surprised at you! Breaking rules and smuggling in food!”

Dechaa shook her head, “Sorry, Sen, no food. Guess I should’ve thought to bring you something… And don’t give me a hard time about the rules. If you tried, even a bit, to cause a little less trouble, I think your life would be much easier…”

Essenta flopped on her bed, “If by ‘easier’ you mean boring as shit…”

“And another thing, Sen, you really need to clean up your language! I heard about what happened at the tavern… You called the farmer Vess… the “C-word” when you beat him in a chugging race.”

Essenta had to stifle a guffaw, “Oh, that sure got a laugh!”

“Sen, I’m serious. If you knew how angry your father is-”

“Don’t think I don’t know… It’s almost mid-summer and I’m still stuck in here. I admit… I don’t know what he’s gonna do this time…”

Dechaa came up blank… Nopony knew just what King Dale might do… And they didn’t have any time to think about it, as Essenta heard the 10 or 15 locks on her door being undone.

She hugged Dechaa again, “Best leave. Tell Zyra I miss her.”

“Sure… I hope you can get out of here soon.”

With a little snap, Dechaa reappeared on the windowsill and ran out of sight. Essenta went to her window and heard another snap. Dechaa materialized on the ground and galloped into the downtown area. That’s soooo cool.

Trying to look innocent, but surly with her captivity, she casually lounged by the window. A few seconds later, Lugaid the Pegasus, Captain of the Guard, could be heard.

“Princess, may I enter?”

She was glad to hear his voice, “Yes, Captain. Please do.”

He did so, keeping his pair of guards outside. Essenta had a mind to hug him. He felt the same way. He’d known her since she was born and had been like a second father to her. But she’d grown up and there was correctness to observe.

Essenta pulled up a chair for him and they sat down across from the other, “I’d offer you something to drink, Captain, but all I have is water. I’d offer you something to eat, but all I have is porridge… with dried fruit…”

Captain Lugaid chuckled, shaking his head, “Oh, Princess… Keeping up that spirit of yours… How are you?”

She hadn’t seen him in two weeks. She’d been given a chance at “forgiveness” if she begged and swore obedience to her father. She wrote a message back to him, making it clear how she felt. It wasn’t petulance or immaturity. She’d meant what she wrote. But instead of delivering the message to King Dale, it was burned in a fireplace.

Nopony, even under threat of death, would have wanted to deliver what she wrote to her own father. To some effect, she had told him to “stick his own scepter up his ass”. So, Captain Lugaid had simply said Essenta refused an audience.

“I’m bored, Captain… Please tell me Father is considering letting me out sometime in the near future. I’m not exactly wanting to kiss his ass, or anything, but I won’t tell him to put his shiny stick up there, either.”

The older fellow laughed, “Essenta! It beggars the imagination you picked up such language… Well, no it doesn’t. Still, when your father heard about the things you were spouting at the pub, I thought he might have a heart storm.”

She chuckled at the idea… half-jokingly, “That’s the first time you’ve called me by name in… four years.”

He got a bit flustered; he’d forgotten himself, “Yes, but don’t change the subject! I miss the days you were a little princess as much as you do… maybe more. But Princess, you have things expected of you. And you know the time will soon come you must shoulder that responsibility.”

He was perhaps the only adult she’d take that from. She loved him… more than she loved her own father. And he loved her like a daughter. Her father hadn’t comforted her when she was sad. Captain Lugaid had… He also taught her the very basics of soldiering, a decision he sometimes regretted and would never admit to. King Dale had been his friend since they were both foals, but even that probably wouldn’t have saved his neck from the king’s wrath.

“I know, Captain… And I’m… sorry for any trouble I may have caused you. But really, Father sent you here for a reason. I know you wouldn’t have come on your own when he’s like this.”

“Indeed… he has something for you. I don’t know what it is. Whatever it is, Sir Beiran was recused from the council chamber over it. But he won’t say what. Your father commands your presence tomorrow at noon. He said you can either come and listen to what he has to say, or you can remain where you are until winter… or until…”

Essenta was worried by the unease in his voice, “‘Or until’ what?”

Captain Lugaid tried to look evenly at her, but had a hard time with it, “Until he decides to send you away with a dowry of his own…”

At this, Essenta’s front cracked. Her face fell, and she fell back a little in her chair. She didn’t want to cry in front of anypony, but if it had to be somepony, the captain wasn't her last choice. All the wind taken from her sails, Essenta felt small… and young. And she did cry… Sometimes, when she was reminded just how little her father treasured his daughter, she couldn't help herself. She knew she could've been a better daughter to him, but... he could've been a better father... and a better king.

Captain Lugaid, casting aside his formalities, took up Essenta and embraced her, “Oh, Essenta… it’ll be alright.”

He wished his words were true. They just came out, probably in one ear and out the other to the princess. He wished his words were true, but he couldn’t say. He only wished there was something to say to comfort his friend.

She may have been tough, independent, and bold… but she was just a young mare in the end.

The next day at noon, Essenta stood in the throne room, looking up to her father and mother. Her siblings were seated off to the side. Much of the court was there, watching.

Her stomach was doing cartwheels. And she was tired. She didn’t get much sleep, thinking about whatever this was. She also couldn’t manage to eat much that she was able to keep down.

To keep on the best possible terms, she elected to wear something a little more formal than the last time she dressed up. And her mane had now grown long enough she could wear that stupid headpiece, so there she stood, gussied up and ready to listen to whatever her father had to say.

Author's Note

Check out the Appendix for Princess Essenta, updated as the story moves along. It shows the story's timeline and character designs. Contains spoilers.

What will happen to Essenta now? With a yet unforeseen ultimatum about to be placed before her, how will she react?

Had the chapter ready to release and may not have time to get back to it for a few days.

Look for the next chapter in the next week or so.

Chapter 4: The Fool's Errand

The Dale Arc

The king looked down at his daughter with some level of evenness, but she could still see the unmistakable contempt he was trying so very hard to fight. A month in her room had not done wonders for her looks. She appeared as a potted plant kept from sunlight for a few days. Noticeably, she had lost some weight. With no alcohol and rich food to put meat on her bones, and a steady diet of porridge and dried fruit for a month, time had taken its toll.

Still, her physical fitness hadn’t declined that much. Sure, she wasn’t in the fields or around town doing manual labor, but her attendants and others had been reporting Essenta had taken to exercising in her room, out of boredom, or something else. Regardless, the bags under her eyes and sallow guise didn’t suit her.

Essenta tried not to glower too heavily at her father. He held the cards at this game. Her mother and siblings looked on with some nervousness. The guards and ponies at court were rather silent.

The princess had been given little choice in coming, with the real threat of spending the rest of the year locked up, or worse, sent away with payment for somepony else’s trouble. She knew in her heart her father wasn’t bluffing about the dowry. She’d pissed him off to the point he’d get rid of her, even at a bit of a loss. What were a few thousand gold pieces and a worthless daughter to him? He’d do it as easily as blowing his nose or taking a royal shit.

Trying to keep her composure, Essenta was rather nervous. She truly had no idea what her father and his council had cooked up. If Dechaa’s father was kicked out of the meeting and/or refused to take part, whatever may have occurred, it wouldn’t be anything good. That was the only sure thing she felt about it.

The king leaned forward and what little chatter was going stopped, “Princess Essenta… You have been kept away from the ponies and things you love for a month now… You refused an audience two weeks ago. You made a fool of yourself, our subjects, your home, and your king. Not only that, you dragged the good name of another family through the mud you seem to love so much. You have committed acts of which decorum disallows mention. What could you possibly have to say for this?”

She thought a moment, What the fuck do you expect me to say? You demanded I come here, under threat of… something, and you treat me as if I begged an audience?

Essenta, inwardly seething, said what he wanted to hear, whether she meant it or not, “Father… my king… What you say is true. I refused an audience out of petulance. I have shamed Prince Fulco, his father, the king of Fulco, and his subjects. I have shamed you, my home, our subjects, and myself. I have… nothing to say in my defense. But for the things I have done… I am sorry. I do not know how I might atone for any of it, but I wish to hear what the king has to say… How may I begin to fix that which I have wronged?”

The king knew, as well as his daughter, this was an act. He’d have to be careful not to fall into whatever little game she was playing… if she had one. He must appear to be in control. King Dale and his council had thought long and hard about this. They must break the princess of her wild ways and fit her for marriage.

They had absolutely no thought to send her away with a dowry, without first trying to break her. They wanted the gold. They wanted the political connections. They wanted their neighbors beholden to them. They wanted the power… And Essenta’s marriage was key.

They had a plan to break the princess. But they had no idea, in Heaven or in Hell, how badly it would blow up in their faces. Essenta was a princess. They knew she wasn’t ordinary, but she was still just a princess. They didn’t know how unordinary she truly was. They underestimated what kind of mare she was… the things she was ready and able, or at least willing to do.

The cunning, the desire to succeed, and her sheer willpower, the very things King Dale hated most in her, were the very things he had the least chance against. But in his arrogance, he thought he’d best her. Looking back, much later, he would contemplate blowing his own brains out for the stupidity of his half-baked idea. Had they thought about it realistically for a few moments, they probably would have discarded the idea and just sent her somewhere with a small mountain of gold. The council wasn’t afraid of King Dale, especially, but they were just as arrogant.

Of course, Essenta had no idea what was going through her father’s head, so she just stood on pins and needles, waiting for him to speak.

The king leaned forward once again and Essenta gulped. No matter what he said, she had to maintain, no matter how awful…

“Princess Essenta… I have need of you. Far away from here are the Great Southern Jungles. You’ve no doubt heard of the Dragon Lance? You will retrieve it for me.”

It took everything Essenta had to not exclaim at this. This was his plan? Even the court was confused, but they daren’t say anything.

She wasn’t much of an actress, but in her father’s arrogance, he could be tricked. She put on her best shocked expression and hammed it up just enough.

“Father! You must be joking! The lance is a myth! And I’ve never even left the valley!”

“Nonsense… you say you wish to travel. And the lance is no myth… I saw it… in battle. It resides in the Salvatrix Temple. It’s come to my attention a plague has wiped out the Salvatrix Kingdom. This is your chance. Do this for me, and you will have redeemed yourself in my eyes.”

She stood there, her knees knocking, “…I will do as you say, Father… my king. Tell me what I am to do.”

Essenta walked back to her room some time later. She was shaken up from her earlier worry, and almost as shaken up she was tasked with such a thing as she had just been. It was the stupidest thing she’d ever heard… recently. And she knew some ponies that ate funny mushrooms and/or shat down chimneys.

The whole thing sounded farcical. She was to get together a crew, of her choosing, that was willing to accompany her, find her way to the jungles in the far south, and retrieve something that probably didn’t exist from a nest of death and disease.

Undoubtedly, her father had no concern about her or any of his subjects dying of plague. He didn’t expect them to make it. She knew what he believed: his foolish daughter would turn around at the first sign of trouble, come home, and beg, kissing his hooves and sobbing, for his forgiveness, and of her willingness to be a good little princess. Maybe he expected her to beg before day’s end.

But she would try. Oh! would she try. She got carried away with her anger a moment. She’d show that asshole that called himself her father just what she could do. Was she in over her head? Sure. Was she letting her own arrogance get the better of her? Certainly. Did she have any idea what she was going to do? No dice.

But she didn’t care. She knew all this, and she still didn’t give a single fuck. Even if this was a fool’s errand, she was going to see what she could do. She might as well. This would be her first, last, and only chance, for the rest of her life, at a little freedom. True freedom! Sweet, sweet freedom…

Her resolve hardened. Her father was going to regret this. She’d go out there, and if she had her way, she’d turn the world upside down! And there were only two ponies she could think of that might be crazy enough to go with her… Okay… neither was crazy and they would say she was crazy, but they were her best friends.

Dechaa spat out her sip of wine, “Sen! What in the world are you saying?! You want me to what?”

Essenta took a hit off her ale, “I want you to come with me on this stupid expedition my father has seen fit to send me on.”

They were sitting outside Essenta’s favorite pub. Essenta still wore one of her nicer gowns, lounging on a bench in a manner most unbefitting of a princess. Her headpiece was tucked into her sash. It drew some attention, but it wasn't the most unusual thing her townsponies had seen of her.

Essenta stared into the slop in her mug, swirling it about. One thing she realized from a month without num-nums, was her tolerance had fallen off a cliff, a rock tied to its neck with a nice, heavy chain. She was buzzing, and she wasn’t even a third of the way done with her first mug… Maybe it should be her only mug… she had to get things rolling on the trip. She knew her father was stupid and so was his suck-ass council, but even they had to have begun to realize the folly in this.

Essenta continued, “I want you and Zyra to come with me. I… think we’d have a chance then.”

Dechaa was blanching, “Don’t say ‘we’ like we’re already on the highway! This is… insane! You realize your father is expecting you to turn around before the first day is even over, don’t you?”

Essenta grumbled at her, “You’re cunting well right, old friend-”

“Sen! You know how much I hate that word… it’s so… nasty. Why even say it?!”

“It gives strength when ‘fuck’ loses its meaning…”

Dechaa blathered, “…What?!”

Essenta chugged the rest of her mug, and stood up unsteadily, “C’mon. We have to get a move on.”

The princess began to paddle away. Dechaa hurriedly left a few coins for their drinks, leaving most of her goblet of wine abandoned, and chased after her friend.

“Sen, stop! You have no idea what it’s like out there! I have no idea what it’s like! Neither of us have ever been outside the valley. There are murderers… and pirates… and... and rapists!”

“Those occur everywhere, Miss Beiran. I’m not so concerned if you and Zyra are with me. I can whup just about anypony any-”

Dechaa teleported a few feet, to get Essenta’s attention, eye-to-eye, “Sen! Just because you can outfight our soldiers doesn’t mean you’re up for everything out there!”

Essenta brushed her aside, and ambled along, “I know that’s a possibility. I’m just trying to look for the silver lining here.”

“What silver lining?! Sen… your father is sending you out there… to possibly die! It’s not just a matter of you turning around when you can’t sleep on a nice feather bed! He knows what’s out there, and he knows you might not come back.”

With great conviction, and actually meaning it, “I’d rather die out there than play princess for the king.”

Dechaa stopped cold, “…You can’t mean that!”

“Oh, but I do… If you don’t want to come, I won’t say anything otherwise. And it won’t stop us from being friends. That’s something not even death will break.”

That took the clout out of Dechaa’s argument. She knew Essenta meant it. But instead of leaving Essenta or begging the king to reconsider, she followed her friend, trying to reason with her.

After a short walk, the princess and Dechaa made their way to the home of the local magic guild. Immediately recognizable by her short, sandy mane and sea-foam coat, they saw their unicorn friend Zyra Argon beating a few rugs out front.

Seeing her friends approach, she called out, “Well, well, well… My beloved Captain has shaken off her bonds and is once again free to piss off her daddy.”

Zyra came up and tightly embraced Essenta, who gladly gave in return. Pulling back, Essenta examined her friend. Zyra was a sight for sore eyes, as Dechaa had been. Essenta and Dechaa had known Zyra for about nine years. She was 17, as they were, but a month or two younger than the princess. She wasn’t exactly sure how old she was. She was a war orphan from the west. Somepony saw her affinity for magic, and she was taken in by the Greendale Magic Guild. They’d played with all the other foals in town when they were young. Zyra called Essenta “Captain” because when they played pirates, Essenta would beat up all the colts and take the title for herself. It was a childhood nickname.

Unlike Essenta and Dechaa, Zyra wasn’t a knockout, at least to most ponies. She was fit, but rather plain, though not unattractive. She got through life by her wits… and sense of humor. While Essenta and Dechaa had brains, neither was clever in the ways Zyra was. While Dechaa was particularly skilled in healing magic and using magic to aid her physical abilities, Zyra had the gift of tongues. Through the aid of magic, and her own intelligence, she spoke 20 languages. While not much of a fighter, she also specialized in fire magic; she was the most powerful fire elemental for about 500 miles.

With her two friends, it was little wonder Essenta had the general lack of concern she may have felt otherwise… or if she was stone sober. The quart of ale was making its presence known in her mind.

Zyra motioned her friends to sit down, “So, what did the great King Dale want with his firstborn child? Dare I ask? Is he selling you to the salt mines?”

If Zyra wasn’t so funny, and if she wasn’t Essenta’s dear friend, the princess might have throttled her on a few occasions in their time together, “I have to talk fast. Father should be learning the error of his ways soon…”

She explained to the little mage just what horseshit the king and his council had come up with. Zyra regarded her with skeptical amusement.

“That’s stupid,” Zyra chuckled.

“I know!” the princess spake in her slight alcohol flush. “We need to hurry. We need to get out of town this afternoon.”

Zyra rubbed her hooves together, “I hear you, Captain. What do we need?”

Dechaa started to panic a little, “What?!! Zyra, you can’t be serious!”

Zyra called up to a window, “Master Amelbert!”

An old stallion poked his head out, “Zyra? Oh, Princess! Good to see you.”

Essenta beamed up at him, “Likewise, Master!”

“You’ve heard about this “fool’s errand” the king has given Essenta, haven’t you?” Zyra asked him. “I’m going with her.”

He smiled, “Well, you’d best get a move on. Come pack your saddlebags. Princess! I can spare three days’ worth of food for the three of you. Think that’ll be enough? I’ll even throw in a few bottles of that grain alcohol you seem to be able to stomach.”

Essenta cheered, “That’ll be great. Thanks.”

She turned to Dechaa and then Master Amelbert, “Dechaa, get your bags and meet me at my workshop in 10 minutes. We’ll be back here in 15 minutes!”

Essenta galloped away, leaving Dechaa looking confused and scared, calling after her.

Essenta tore through her room, hastily packing her saddlebags. Casting aside her frilly gown and headpiece, she put on a simple tunic and cloak. She knew how to travel and had nothing frivolous. Admittedly, she had more gold than they would need, but they wouldn’t be hard up for money. Gathering up her cloak, she ran out of her room.

Luckily, she found both Calleha and Abe in Abe’s room. Calleha had been crying over what happened earlier in the day. Essenta wished them both love and a hasty goodbye, before tearing out of the room. She didn't even wait for them to respond, leaving them flummoxed. Stopping by the upstairs kitchen, she pilfered a bag of fruit and biscuits, along with a bottle of rum, before the surprised chef could even ask her what she was up to.

There were other ponies she would've loved to bid farewell to... Old Rosy, Captain Lugaid, a few friends in town... But she resolved to run away as fast as possible as she sprinted down the hall. Barely slowing down, she leapt out a low window, surprising a few guards as she galloped past.

“Sorry, fellas! Well, I’ll see you again sometime, I hope!” she called back as she ran.

They were just confused… too confused to do anything. Essenta was right to hurry, for a moment later, the guards were alerted to look for her.

Essenta made it to her workshop. It was dusty from being unattended for the last month. She’d miss her sets of tools, but only grabbed what she needed. Dechaa showed up a minute later, fretting. She had on a cloak and saddlebags.

“Sen… What are we doing?”

Essenta tossed her a bag she’d been filling up, “Catch.”

Dechaa caught it, with magic, and went on fretting, “We’re not really going?!”

Essenta had finished up two more big bags, and grabbed a roll of tools, which she lashed to her saddlebags. Finally, she grabbed a longer roll. Taking a moment to appreciate its weight, she lashed that to her saddlebags as well. Hefting everything, she called to Dechaa.

“We have to go, now!”

Dechaa, for some reason unknown to her, followed her as Essenta ducked through alleyways and in shadows. Within minutes they were at the magic guild. Zyra was waiting outside. She had her saddlebags, her magic staff, and a bag of what was hopefully food. She had on the oddest grin, somewhere between resignation and high glee, if that makes any sense.

“Not a moment too soon, Cap. Things are starting to heat up back there.”

Essenta listened. She couldn’t see, but she could hear it once it started.

Ding, ding, ding! Ding, ding, ding! …

It was the bell signal for… an escaped convict! She could hear yelling, obviously about and in pursuit of her.

Essenta looked back, sobered by the sound. Her father hadn’t had any intention of letting her go… or he changed his mind. Whatever… They had to go. Essenta barely stopped and ran to the edge of town, her friends hot on her heels.

Zyra laughed heartily, but not too loud. They had to escape quietly if they could.

Dechaa was almost in tears. What had she gotten herself into?!

Essenta… wasn’t sure how she felt. It was a mixed feeling. She shook her head. She’d have time to sort it out later. For now, they had to run. They had to get away.

The three mares galloped east, the sunset now at their backs, towards adventure none of them had ever dreamed of.

Author's Note

Check out the Appendix for Princess Essenta, updated as the story moves along. It shows the story's timeline and character designs. Contains spoilers.

So, Essenta and her two friends have set off on their "fool's errand". Just what kind of craziness will they find themselves in?

The idea of the king sending the princess out on such a task sounds more and more stupid the more I think about it. But blame King Dale, not me...

Another quickly released chapter. I hope this story winds up being fun for you. It's been fun to write, and if my outline holds true, I think it could be interesting.

I'll try to have another chapter out within a week. I need to get back to working on Larkspur Blossom as well. Thanks for reading.

Chapter 5: Out of the Valley

Southward to New Friends Arc

It had been two days since Essenta, Dechaa, and Zyra made their late afternoon escape from Greendale. They were still stuck within the borders of the Eastern Central Valley. It was as far as Dechaa had ever gone and not far off from Essenta’s longest trip. A pony, carrying what they were carrying, should’ve been able to cover about 40 miles in a day. 40 miles was about as far as they’d managed the two days.

They weren’t traveling on the main roads. Soldiers of the Dale were out looking for them and they were restricted to traveling at night or through the woods. Unless they had some unusually adept tracking beast, the girls would have no problem getting away. Two of them were skilled in magic, after all. It took a keen eye to pick up a trail thrown by a mage of Zyra’s level. They’d even snuck through a few checkpoints set up on the roads, once in disguise.

They hadn’t eavesdropped on any pony but had heard a few rumors. Apparently a “convict” had escaped Greendale and was trying to leave the country. That was the reason for the patrols and the checkpoints. The rumors also said the princess was on a quest, having taken two ponies along.

It shouldn’t have surprised Essenta much that her father would renege on this so-called quest. And it didn’t surprise her, other than she figured they would have tried to stop her in the morning. Nopony had probably expected her to attempt to leave the same day, and the guards could catch her unaware.

The stupidest thing about it was King Dale had allowed court to be held when he made his proclamation. Had he thought about it, he would’ve done this in secret so when he decided to go back on his decree, only the family and a few guards would know about it. Now the king had to get her back, quietly if possible.

As long as Essenta and her little company were in the area of the valley, and indeed a few surrounding countries, it would be hard to travel openly. But once they escaped, it would be smoother sailing. The Dale had influence, but it would take a special kind of clout to have Essenta and her friends seized that far out without raising a stink, exposing his poorly conceived plan.

Around dusk on the third day, Essenta stirred from her slumber. She wasn’t happy about sleeping in hedgerows or in giant, fallen logs, but it hadn’t been too bad. She missed her bed, but who wouldn’t? Stretching, she looked over to Dechaa, sleeping peacefully in her cloak. Looking around, she saw Zyra.

Zyra was watching for trouble. They weren’t overly concerned about trouble. Zyra set up a magic barrier that would identify anything with four legs and consciousness within a mile of them. Still, they agreed one of them would always keep watch. While watching for trouble, Zyra was admiring a new toy. She turned to Essenta, noticing somepony else was awake.

“Captain… this is something else,” she whistled. “I can’t believe you were able to make this…”

Essenta smiled, “Just took a little know-how… and no small help from Master Amelbert. I’m just glad it didn’t blow up in your face… I couldn’t test it, of course.”

What Zyra held was a new magic wand. Zyra had her staff, but it was large and awkward at times. The wand, however, fit up her sleeve. Taken from a limb of a tree sacred to the Dale, it was fashioned along with steel having magical conductive abilities. It could fire shots like a cannon, and Zyra found it too powerful for anything other than blowing things up. Of course, Essenta had explained, that was the point.

Zyra was glad she didn’t press Essenta to cast aside her extra baggage when they left the Dale, for it carried the wand… and a few other things. The wand had been meant for Zyra’s 18th birthday, whenever she wanted to celebrate it. But the “forced” departure merited an early gift.

Also packed, in the very bag Essenta tossed Dechaa, were a few items for the fretful unicorn. Contained in the bag was light armor Essenta had been crafting. It in no way limited Dechaa’s movement and looked cool as Hell to boot. The other items were twin swords. Dechaa had studied horn play with swords and had gotten rather good. Similarly, these were intended for Dechaa’s coming of age, but… yeah. The running away, and all…

Best of all perhaps, Essenta had been working on something in secret. She had a suit of armor she called a “battle suit”. It was made of a light, but strong alloy she herself had fashioned. Along with the suit, she had a pile of apparent junk she had yet the time to fit. Had she not been stuck in her room a month, she would have finished it long ago. Still, she had made herself a dirk, easy enough to grip between her teeth. Essenta wasn’t great with a dirk but had trained some. Her real forte was brawling.

Zyra looked towards the sun, “I was looking over the map earlier… There’s a swamp we should avoid a couple miles ahead, but if we circumvent it, we’ll have a clear run to the southeast corner of the Dale through the tall grass prairie. It’s a wonder it was never farmed… too scrubby I suppose. And too many rocks. I hate the idea of running through there at night.”

The princess uncorked the bottle of rum she’d hooked from the castle’s kitchen, taking a good hit off it, “Well, we won’t run then. It should give us some cover, especially at night.”

Essenta did pay attention in her geography lessons. She knew they would probably be home free by the next evening. It would be a relief, but they would need to be cautious for a time. The idea gave her some solace.

Zyra peered up, Essenta having handed her the rum, “I’m not so worried about tripping as I am the things that live out there… Timberwolves, for one thing…”

Essenta gulped, as Zyra coolly took a few swigs. She’d heard of the creatures. They just didn’t live in the Forbidden Forest… they stuck near it but would go anywhere there was… food… or whatever it was they were after. Nopony really knew what those strange creatures did. And of course, their intended path was next to some prime Timberwolf territory. They’d tread carefully. It would be easier than dealing with them; but like many wild creatures they were terrified of lights, explosions, and other magic. With two unicorns perfectly capable of such things, they would probably be able to escape in a pinch. Essenta was more concerned about more intelligent creatures finding them and unicorn magic in such a remote place would be like lighting a bonfire on a hill.

The sun sank a little lower, and Essenta woke up Dechaa. Dechaa started a little, but then relaxed as she stretched. It was a relief to see her in better spirits than she had been. It had been nothing but fret, fret, fret out of her for the first day-and-a-half. She’d left her father, mother, her older brother, and younger sister without a word. Until a few days earlier, Dechaa was studying to be an apothecary…

She was no pushover, but the prospect of quiet satisfaction while improving her medicinal skills had given way to the life of an unofficial fugitive. They were being hunted in secret, while the king was probably publicly praising them for their willingness to take on the quest with the princess. She didn’t like to think about what would happen if they were caught. So, fretting a little could be forgiven. But if she had truly been against going, she wouldn’t have followed Essenta, scared and reluctant as she was.

Zyra wasn’t really worried, except for her master… He’d taught her since she was quite young and gave her a home. He could at least plea ignorance for “blessing” the trip, that was supposed to happen, and probably keep the rope from around his neck. Still, she’d miss him.

Essenta, other than getting far enough away from the influence of the Dale so they’d have other dangerous, nasty things to worry about, thought of what would happen later. Unless they all perished out there, somewhere, they’d have to go back home. She… didn’t care about herself so much.

Her father had undoubtedly branded her a traitor in his own mind, or some equivalent. Unless she returned from the quest a champion, even the love of her subjects wouldn’t save her. Her life, or at least any semblance of her freedom, were forfeit. Would she even be marriageable after this fiasco? Would anypony, with or without a dowry, take her as a queen?

She was far more worried about her friends. Dechaa’s family, with their long and close ties to the crown, had to be suffering. It wasn’t their fault their reserved daughter ran off with some wayward princess, but who else was around to blame? The Dale was the only home Dechaa had ever known. It was the only home she wanted to go back to, and what would her life be worth if things fell apart out there, or if they were captured?

Essenta wasn’t sure about Zyra. The fire mage was probably never going to spend her entire life in the Dale. She had other places she could go… other things to see and do. And she had the support of the Greendale Magic Guild. If Master Adelbert gave her his blessing, it wouldn’t be disrespected.

The Dale was the only place in the world Essenta wanted to go home to. If she and Dechaa were to go home, and they wanted to live a while once they were there, they would have to turn the world upside down. They would have to get the Dragon Lance from that deathtrap. And she knew the three of them would have very little chance of success on their own. She was torn between remaining as anonymous as possible and using her name to gather anypony tough, or crazy enough to go along with them.

They needed help. And they had to get it without getting raped, killed, eaten, or whatever the fuck else happens to pretty princesses and her friends in the wild world beyond their familiar home.

But, they’d worry about it later. For now, they set to a quick meal. They still had a day’s worth of food, so they would have to forage or, Heaven forbid, buy food soon. Buying food was out of the question until they were far enough away nopony would know them or suspect them. While the Dale prospered, the areas around it weren’t having the best year for growing much of anything. The same could be said about wild fruit. They’d be stuck eating weeds a few days, not that it bothered them much, if they couldn’t find something else.

Making sure they had enough left over for another meal, the companions set off at sunset.

Dechaa peered into the rum bottle, having taken a nip, “Sorry girls, rum’s gone.”

It was a slight disappointment. Essenta had been happy to have something to drink after being locked up a month, even if it wasn’t her favorite. But it was gone. They still had the corn juice Zyra’s master had packed with their rations, but even Essenta, famous for being able to stomach the stuff, wouldn’t be able to handle it.

Essenta sighed, “No big deal. I only grabbed it because it was sitting beside that bag of apples and hardtack. It must have been fate it fell into our loving hooves.”

Zyra stifled a guffaw, “Cap, that was probably somepony’s dinner you stole.”

Essenta turned, grinning, “No… it was two days of somepony’s food I stole. And it’s why we’ve been able to stretch our food a little. It’s what we give the guards when they have duty and can’t sit down in the mess hall… I just hope somepony didn’t go hungry for his shift…”

It was around midnight. They’d found the swamp, easily enough, and were going around it. To avoid a road, they took the path that took them closer to the Forbidden Forest. The place gave them the collective creeps. Essenta took point, with Zyra behind her. Dechaa took the rear, and was none too pleased about it, often looking over her shoulder.

Essenta stopped a moment, “I don’t like how quiet it is.”

Zyra tried to prod her along, “Of course it’s quiet. The animals aren’t used to ponies being around, so they hunker down and shut up. Move.”

The princess stifled her with a hoof and pulled her down low. She’d… heard something. Dechaa quietly huddled up to them. Essenta took her hoof from Zyra’s mouth. Zyra listened. She heard it too. Not only could they hear it, Dechaa could see it… To her credit, she didn’t panic.

A pack of Timberwolves were moving along the tree line about 50 feet east of them. The wind coming out of the forest saved them. They could smell the earthy stink of wood emanating from the pack. Just high enough they could see, they watched them move along.

There were… about 100 of them. This had Zyra worried, and she silently cast a revealing spell around them. Of course, it revealed everything but them. They were clear on all sides but kept it up for a time. After a few minutes, they could relax.

Essenta sighed in relief, “Whew. That was something…”

Dechaa looked ready, more than ever, to go home. Zyra looked a little… disheveled. That had been scary.

“Sorry, Cap.”

“It’s alright… I’m just glad the wind was on our side. Let’s keep moving.”

They moved on, more cautiously now. That could have been a bad time for them.

Apparently, some other creature was about to have a bad time, for the girls heard the earsplitting howls only Timberwolves could make. And were they ever making a racket. But whatever it was, it was in the woods, and not in the grass, so Essenta motioned the girls on.

They’d made their way around the swamp, so they elected to move west just a little. Having a little space between themselves and the forest was probably good for their health. Unable to see any Timberwolves, but able to hear them, they’d worked themselves into a frenzy! Unless there were any of the woody killing machines on their grass-ward side, there was little to worry about. All the Timberwolves within hailing distance would be flocking to whatever unfortunate creature had their attention.

At that moment, just as soon as the obvious bloodlust had begun, the sound was replaced by an unmistakable panic, also from the Timberwolves. The three friends then beheld one of the damnedest things anypony had likely ever seen. Pieces of Timberwolf were flying out of the low forest canopy in every direction. Not only were pieces flying, they were in flames… coming right at them.

Zyra grimaced, “Oh, shit… Girls, duck.”

They huddled behind a rock, putting it between them and the forest. Pieces continued to rain down. A flaming Timberwolf head landed right before them. It yelped pitiably and jostled itself around. Nopony knew if Timberwolves felt pain; they knew fear, certainly, but this one didn’t look like it was having the best time. Essenta and Zyra had to cover up Dechaa’s mouth to stifle a scream.

The ponies huddled together more tightly, pressing themselves into the rock. They knew what was coming. The Timberwolves, yelping and clattering, scattered in every direction, including theirs. They weaved around the rock or jumped over it. Whole Timberwolves came first, followed by those with fewer and fewer pieces. The princess and her friends were terrified they would be found out, but the fleeing creatures weren’t even stopping to collect the pieces of themselves, it they could even find them.

Peering around, Essenta saw things were clear enough, so upon Zyra’s approval, the three of them bolted and ran south like Hell. No longer concerned with making noise, they galloped several miles until they saw the edge of the tallgrass prairie. Slowing down near the bordering steppe, they collapsed in a heap together.

Essenta tried to calm herself. Looking down at herself, she was okay. Much to her sympathy, Dechaa had soiled herself. She’d been beyond terrified and hadn’t noticed until they had a minute to think. Looking over at Zyra, the little mage hadn’t voided any excrementitious matter, but Essenta had only seen Zyra afraid a few times in all their years together. She looked positively shaken.

Against her better judgement, Essenta pulled out a bottle of the corn juice nestled in her saddlebags. Popping the top, she could feel and smell the burn even before it touched her lips. Taking a dram, she almost coughed. Still, it got her attention and cleared her sinuses. Holding out the bottle for whomever wanted some, she was surprised Dechaa hoofed it. Taking a healthy swig, the pretty unicorn stifled a cough and went on with trying to catch her breath. Zyra took the bottle next, shaking so badly it clattered against her teeth, taking a few measured pulls.

Corking the bottle and letting it lie beside her, Essenta’s breath slowed down and she looked to the horizon. Traces of first light appeared in the east. It must have been 4:30 a.m., but she couldn’t be sure. She felt tired, but knew they had to find a safer place to rest.

While Essenta and Zyra filled their water jugs, Dechaa cleaned herself up downriver from them. She was embarrassed, but only a little. They’d all been terrified, but she was the only one to suffer from the body’s flight response in such a way. Having cleaned up, she joined her friends.

Zyra was still shaking a little, “That. Was. Insane. What could’ve done that to that many Timberwolves?!!”

Essenta lay back, laughing a little unsteadily, “I don’t know. But I didn’t want to find out. Isn’t that why we ran away?”

Dechaa sat down, taking a drink of water, “Well, I guess you’ll be glad to hear we just crossed over the Dale’s border, somewhere behind us. We’re still in the valley, but we’ll come out of it soon. If we go much further east, we’ll be in the land of Joeh.”

Zyra looked up, now crouched next to a tree, “Yes, but our goal is more of the southern persuasion. Even after we leave the valley, it’s… 3,000 miles to Salvatrix.”

Dechaa consulted their map, “I still think it’s kind of funny… We live in the Great Eastern Valley, but you can’t be much further west on the continent.”

Essenta grinned to her friend, “The name’s older than dirt. The same ponies that named the valley never went much further east. As far as they were concerned, we’re sitting on the very edge of the world…”

Having relaxed a few minutes, the company continued. They still had a few hours before daybreak and hoped to cover some ground before then.

And they did cover some ground. The steppe still bordered the forest, so they had some cover. Around what must have been 9:00 a.m., they stopped. Dechaa rustled up some breakfast while Essenta went looking for fruit. Zyra set up a few safeguards, as they found a decent place to rest. Essenta agreed to first watch once they finished breakfast. They decided to rest about 6 hours. They weren’t keen on traveling during the day, but the cover afforded to them would allow it.

Around the middle of the afternoon, each member of the company getting some well-earned shuteye, they munched a few biscuits and apples, and continued south.

A little nervous about their misadventures overnight, they kept quiet, only speaking when they had to do so. The walking was good, though, and it was nice to be moving in the daytime. Unable to find any fruit in the morning, they came across a patch of wild strawberries. It was a most welcome snack.

Soon the company came to the edge of the steppe. Being on the edge of it, it just didn’t take a lot of time to run out of it. Now they had to pass through another forest, thankfully, not of the forbidden variety. It was still worrisome. There were many trails through the forest, even a few large trading routes. It would be more exposure than they had come to appreciate, traveling in the shadows. There would be no hiding. And while they had gold, they had little to trade.

The currency of the Dale would probably be acceptable to most businessponies they might encounter, but its rarity in the area would bring about suspicion… the kind they could scarce afford… They were out of the jurisdiction of King Dale. Any occurrence of soldiers of his openly showing their colors would be a borderline act of war. Unless soldiers after them traveled incognito, it was bounty hunters they had to worry about now…

Settling down a few minutes, they set about to defacing currency. A corporal offense in the Dale, if not a capital offense if it was stolen money, it was the only way their gold would be usable. Extracting gold and silver from a hoofful of coins, they formed crude little nuggets. It wasn’t unusual for anypony trading to have a few nuggets on them, so it would probably be safe to exchange.

Moving on, they didn’t see a soul. It was evening by then, and the girls had to decide if they’d continue into the night or find someplace to sack out. Deciding it would be safer to travel in the day, they found a spot off the trail they were following, Zyra laying down a protection spell. They dared not light a fire but ate their fill. They only did so because the meager rationing over the last few days had left them tired and irritable. Deciding to leave before dawn the next morning, they slept, taking turns at watch.

A near full night of sleep and enough food did the companions’ spirits good. They would only be able to graze on their rations until they found or bought more, but there was no shortage of summer berries. Still, they had to get a little fiber, or they’d get sick. The biscuits were gone, and corn juice isn’t exactly food, so if they wanted to gnaw on something other than tree bark, they needed to find somepony with food.

Within about an hour of breaking camp, they found some ponies… about 10 of them… rough looking stallions, all Earth ponies save one Pegasus, ganging up on something.

The three ducked behind a log. Looking out from their hiding place, they beheld a strange sight. The stallions were attempting to surround an Earth pony mare… a mare unlike any they’d ever seen. She was tall. Considerably taller than any of the stallions. She had wild, yellow eyes under her gray mane. Her mane and tale were streaked with oranges, reds, and yellows, and strings of beads. Her coat was a light chestnut under her beaded smock.

But the strangest thing about her was her sword. It was twice as long and about five times as thick as any sword they’d seen. She had it loosely held in her hooves. She wasn’t swinging it, but the grip was obviously meant for her mouth. She spoke in an alto voice that sounded… cultured.

“Begone. I have no quarrel with you stallions. And I have heard of no such princess. I only recognize one queen and one princess. The one you seek is neither, so begone and leave me be. There has been enough strangeness the last few days. I am traveling south. I suggest you go north…”

Essenta had never seen such an impressive mare. She moved herself and her companions a little closer, getting behind a decent sized rock. She found herself enthralled, curious what would happen next.

One of the stallions circled the mare, “Now, don’t be like that… We know the princess and her little friends were traveling this way. You know something you’re not telling us.”

He drew a dagger, gripping it between his teeth, “Sho… Will you talk?!”

The mare bristled, “I have told you several times, I know not the princess you seek! I have made it thus far without spilling blood. Now, leave me be… or see this record broken!”

Another of the stallions barked in his laughter, “Well boys… Seems she wants to do this the hard way. Make her beg for death!”

They all rushed her. But the tall mare wasn’t there. She had bolted low, plowing right through a number of the stallions. She was... shockingly fast. Winded, but unhurt, they stood up to face her. The mare loomed high.

“Let this be the end of it! Cease this, or you will all die!”

“That’s it boys! Kill ‘er!!”

The mare stood as several stallions rushed in, brandishing blades and clubs. Essenta felt awful, knowing this mare was about to die. She didn’t want to watch, but she couldn’t avert her eyes. Neither could her friends.

But the mare, whomever she may have been, would do no dying that day. Essenta saw it as if in slow motion. The mare wound up, the enormous sword hilt gripped between her teeth, and swung the flat of the blade into the first three stallions, faster than most eyes could perceive.

There was only one word to describe what the blade did to them. They disintegrated. Everything in the path of the blade was reduced to red. The trees, rocks, and everything else in the little clearing was sprayed by a coat of the stuff.

The stallions behind the first wave… looked a little staggered.

Essenta gasped, as did her companions.

The mare lunged forward, swinging the blade the other direction, sending the same mess she’d made on one side of the clearing, to the side where Essenta, Dechaa, and Zyra were hidden. The boulder was coated in what was left of two ponies. By now, the remaining stallions were screaming, attempting to flee. Dechaa swooned and fainted where she sat, onto her back. Zyra’s jaw was dropped and Essenta’s face and mane now bore witness to the carnage.

Taking another swing, the mare took down the sixth, sending most of him into the forest canopy. Two of them went behind her to flee into the woods. Turning, she swung her back leg, revealing a long ball-and-chain, that pulped them as they attempted their escape. One tried to back out of the clearing and found his back against a tree. The sword found him, cleaving both him and the tree in two.

Finally, the last stallion ran towards their hiding place to vault over the rock. He made it, but not before a thrown dagger blade appeared through his mouth, the hilt out of the back of his head. He tumbled into them, shocking Essenta and Zyra. Zyra, usually the strongest constitution among them, squeaked.

The mare rounded on the noise, “You, there! Behind the boulder. If you are friend, reveal yourself. If you are not, prepare to meet the same fate as your foolish comrades!”

Essenta knew the only real choice. Dechaa was unconscious. Zyra was broken for a while. She’d seen her share of blood and guts at a very young age, in the war that left her an orphan. That was the first time Essenta had seen anypony killed… and in such a fashion.

“We are not your enemy! You have my solemn word! We will come out. Shall we discard our weapons and goods?”

“Do so… and do so prudently.”

"Understood!"

Stripping herself and her companions of their arms and bags, pulling Zyra’s staff from her nerveless hooves, Essenta dragged Dechaa to her hooves and draped her across her back. She had to forcibly prod Zyra to move.

Guiding Zyra around the boulder, she slowly approached the mare. It was only now the princess realized how badly she was shaking. She was sure of it now. With a few exceptions, this was the tallest pony she’d ever seen. The fierce yellow eyes bored into her from on high.

Standing there, Essenta may have fainted herself, as Dechaa had, but she reasoned she was too scared to even do that.

The mare’s expression softened a modicum, “Do tell me, little pony. Who are you?”

Author's Note

Check out the Appendix for Princess Essenta, updated as the story moves along. It shows the story's timeline and character designs. Contains spoilers.

Who is this mysterious mare of such power? What is she doing near the Dale? Next time, Essenta will learn this, and more.

I still need to spend a little more time on Larkspur Blossom, as I've been shirking it in favor of this story the last week or so.

Look for the next chapter within a week.

Chapter 6: The Princess and the Brawler

Southward to New Friends Arc

Essenta stood in front of the mare, knees knocking. This mare was a head taller than her, powerfully built, but with a distinct litheness about her. Even with her size, there was no way a pony could be that strong. Not only could she lift the enormous sword now leaning against her shoulder, she could swing it with enough force to more than just bisect a full-grown stallion. She felled a tree as if it was a broomstick.

The strange mare wasn’t glaring, but her piercing eyes investigated her. Essenta felt a little sick; she could taste the iron in the air. Looking around the clearing, the mare’s would-be attackers might as well have been blown apart by cannon fire.

Be that as it may, the tall mare’s face softened, her yellow eyes still flaring; she couldn’t really help how her eyes looked.

“Please, young mare, tell me your name.”

Essenta wasn’t more unsure of anything in her life, but she also knew lying or attempting any deceit would end in her death and probably… certainly… the death of her friends.

She looked up as evenly as she could, her voice shaking ever so slightly, “My name is Essenta. I’m… the First Princess of the Kingdom of the Dale. My full title would be Princess Essenta Dale.”

The large mare showed no visible reaction to this news. Essenta went on.

“These are my companions… my friends… Dechaa Beiran and Zyra Argon. We’re on a journey to the south on behalf of my father, the king of the Dale.”

The mare replied, “Essenta… May I call you Essenta?”

Essenta squeaked back, “Yes.”

“I mean you no offense, Essenta, but I only recognize one princess. My name is Ama, of the Clan Waterfall. My title would be Ama Waterfall, but please… call me Ama, if you so desire.”

Essenta looked up at Ama, feeling more at ease, “Yes, Ama.”

Glancing around, Ama looked at the mess she caused, “Please, Essenta, I require your assistance. If you would set your companions to the side of the clearing…”

Unsure, but not about to argue, she did just that. Ama was about the clearing, retrieving what she could.

“I know the task is distasteful, but food seems to be scarce in this part of the world. It must not be wasted. I will gladly split it with you and your friends. Help me gather what is salvageable.”

Trying not to vomit, Essenta set about the grisly task. Between the two of them, they recovered two bags of apples and pears, a few loaves of bread, and a wheel of strong cheese. Essenta had little stomach for food, but knew the supplies were needed.

Once they finished, Ama spoke up, “Thank you, Essenta.”

Essenta nodded, trying not to look at the scene.

"Essenta," Ama began. "There is a small stream a short distance to your left. Let us briefly wash. We must not appear as we are when your friends come to their senses."

Essenta hadn't noticed, but now realized she had been hit by the blood-spray. Ama herself, was a little worse off... But wash they did. Essenta once again felt sick, seeing the water around her redden. Quickly staggering out, she found Ama, holding out a towel.

"Thanks," Essenta toweled her face and mane.

Ama’s face, having softened, became akin to sympathetic, “Forgive me, Essenta, but is this your first time seeing death? Is it the first time your friends have seen death?”

Essenta found herself answering, her voice unlike herself to her ears, “I’ve never seen anypony killed before today… I’ve seen death… but peaceful… a welcome, well-deserved rest fit for somepony who’d done so much good.”

Looking to her companions, “This is the first time Dechaa has seen death, to my knowledge. But Zyra… she was orphaned by war… She refuses to tell anypony much about it, but she has seen horrors I can scarce imagine. Even now, she dreams about it. I see her crying in her sleep sometimes…”

Ama bowed her head, speaking with sincerity, “I am sorry you and your friends came across this. It is… a horrible thing to see. But know this: they intended to kill me. Had they succeeded, I doubt you, Dechaa, and Zyra would have been able to escape if they cast their eyes upon the three of you. They had been harassing me for a full day, in spite of my best efforts to evade them.”

Essenta nodded, numbly.

Ama went on, “I do not hold it against you, Essenta of Dale, but their purpose was to hunt you and your friends. I do not know how long you had been in the vicinity before they assaulted me, but you may have realized they were after your bounty. I did not mean to delude you, but I know who you are and the things that have brought you here. They offered a share of the reward for my assistance in your capture.”

Essenta began to back up slowly, her face betraying fear. She knew she had no chance against Ama, especially with her friends out of sorts.

“Be at peace, Essenta. I have no such desire. I did not know who you were until I asked your name. Had I made this clear earlier, I felt you may have fled. But you appear to value your friends… I can see you would not abandon them.”

Essenta breathed a sigh of relief.

Ama inhaled and sighed deeply, “I… did not wish to kill them, Essenta. I truly wish they had abandoned their attempt to recruit me. They made their decision. I… could not afford any of those stallions escaping. They were skilled in battle and knew this land, for it was theirs. In this forest, I would not have made it out alive if any one of them sought justice for his comrades.”

Essenta did a take at this. Justice?

Ama recognized her confusion, "Yes, Essenta… justice. They were wrong to attack me, but a life is a life. Therefore…”

To Essenta’s great discomfort, Ama’s knees buckled, and she sank to the ground, tears forming in her intense eyes.

“Ama!”

“You may not understand, Essenta, one such as myself, broken over this. That… was the first time I have seen death… It was… the first time I have killed. I did not want to do it…”

Ama began to weep. She looked… smaller in Essenta’s eyes. Essenta sat beside her, putting a gentle hoof on Ama’s shoulder. Rather than Ama jerking away or attempting to rebuff Essenta’s gesture, Ama’s own hoof appeared atop Essenta’s, gripping firmly. Ama sniffled and a few tears squeezed out of her closed eyes.

Essenta wasn’t about to say, “it’s alright”. Nothing about any of this was alright. Essenta didn’t blame herself, but part of this was the result of her actions. But as Ama said, the stallions had made their decision. It was Ama’s misfortune to cross paths with them.

After a time, Ama settled down. She released Essenta’s hoof and slowly stood up. Her eyes were sad but had a peace about them.

“Thank you, Essenta.”

“You’re most welcome, Ama.”

Ama considered the path ahead, “I would understand if you desired not my presence, but we are going the same direction. May I accompany you for a time?”

Essenta hadn’t even considered this, once, since laying eyes on Ama. But she had an answer.

“I would be glad to have you with us.”

Gathering the supplies, the two of them went to Essenta’s friends. Dechaa was still out cold. Zyra looked shell-shocked.

“Please, Essenta, help Dechaa onto my back. I will spirit her and some of the cargo. It is an easy thing for me.”

So Essenta did that, lashing Dechaa’s share of the cargo to Ama’s saddlebags. Gathering up the rest of their supplies, Essenta found it easy to carry even Zyra’s load. Essenta was worried about Zyra. She’d never seen this but knew what it was. She’d heard of it in the old soldiers of the Dale, still suffering from the horror of battle in past times, and it broke her heart her dear friend suffered the same way.

Resolving to make their way through as much of the forest as possible, they set off, continuing south. They barely spoke. Both had plenty to think about.

After a few hours, the sun began to dip towards the west. Dechaa woke with a start and was helped down by Essenta. She was quite upset and more than a little surprised by their new traveling companion.

“Dechaa Beiran… My name is Ama. I am sorry for the pain I have caused you. I cannot ask for your forgiveness, but I will accompany the three of you for a time. I will serve you and your friends as I am able for this kindness.”

Dechaa was taken aback but stuck her hoof out in greeting. Looking at her with some surprise, Ama noticed a few tears in Dechaa’s eyes. Ama gladly shook the offered hoof, wiping a few tears from her own eyes. Essenta was glad for this. Dechaa and Ama would be alright. Zyra, though…

They decided to make camp. While it wasn’t her forte, Dechaa managed to set up their normal safety spells around their spot. Essenta was still too spooked by their surroundings to risk a fire and Ama, having spent a few days in the area, concurred. They had no reason to cook anyway. Electing not to tell Dechaa where the extra food came from, Essenta told her it was Ama’s.

Ama understood the reasoning and simply offered it as hers. Dechaa wasn’t keen on eating, but once she started, she found she had been famished. Essenta and Ama didn’t eat much themselves. Everypony had a lot to reflect on, considering the misery from earlier in the day.

Essenta practically force-fed Zyra, just so Zyra would have some strength later. Both she and Dechaa knew it was going to be a rough night for Zyra. Soon after they finished dinner, Zyra fell asleep while the others sat quietly, wishing they could have a fire for warmth, if nothing else.

A couple hours later, Zyra woke in a panic. This in turn, woke up the rest of the mares. Essenta knew just by looking at her she was having a flashback. She thrashed and screamed, sobbing uncontrollably. Dechaa rushed to her side, holding her friend and sharing with her the calming, healing magic she was so very adept at.

Ama stood to the side, horrified at what she was seeing. Trying hard not to blame herself, she couldn’t bear to watch and had to turn away. Essenta had been trying to keep Zyra silent, but Dechaa’s soothing touch was beginning to calm her down. Seeing Ama step away, she went after her.

“Ama!”

Ama turned to her, tears streaming down her face, “Oh, Essenta… I… I…”

Essenta embraced her, “Shh… shh…”

Ama sat down, embracing Essenta. Still, she looked grimly over Essenta’s shoulder at Zyra, still having it out. But she became quieter. A few moments later, she was sobbing into Dechaa’s cloak, which served both as a pillow for Zyra, and to muffle the sound. Dechaa continued to sooth her friend, humming what sounded like a lullaby.

Essenta knew there were things Dechaa knew about Zyra she didn’t. This didn’t bother her… It was Zyra’s way. The princess found more and more, she was thinking about the consequences of her decisions long after committing to them. She hadn’t expected this all to happen.

Her intentions weren’t… exactly pure, but she never intended her friends to suffer. Or their new friend, Ama. But her intentions, good or bad, couldn’t explain away any of it. Part of her wished she’d just stayed in the Dale, whatever may have happened.

Everypony woke up the next morning feeling more rested than one may expect, given the rough night they had. Zyra may have had an experience the night before, but she didn’t let it dampen her generally happy spirit. She was glad to meet their new companion, now that she was in her right mind.

As they sat and took breakfast, all of them ate heartily. Since the sun was up, they decided to have a fire. It wasn’t large but gave them some warmth. Ama had a sack of oats, so with the pot supplied by Zyra’s master, they were able to make porridge. Essenta never thought she’d be so happy to eat porridge, given it had been her primary means of sustenance, for a long while, until less than a week earlier. Digging through their bags, they came across some honey, improving their meal. Just eating something warm was welcome.

Zyra was worldly and had a few questions for their new friend.

“Ama, forgive me if I’m being rude, but you’re a Terran, aren’t you?”

Essenta and Dechaa’s ears perked up. A Terran? It would certainly explain why she was so strong. None of them had ever met one.

Ama laughed, “It is no rudeness, Zyra. You are partly correct. My father was a Terran. I am one of the Mazans.”

Zyra’s eyes lit up, “Wow. I’ve never heard of a Mazan making her way this far northwest. But if you’re on the continent, I suppose…”

Ama waved a hoof, “You can say it, friend. I am here for a birth journey. When a Mazan reaches the age of 18, she goes across the sea to the continent. I am here to find a stallion, worthy of my seed. I admit, I have been here much longer than I had anticipated. Your continent is… most interesting. I simply wished to see it. I celebrated the 19th year of my birth last week.”

This didn’t need much explanation. The Mazans were known to seek out stallions of great intelligence, strength, and virtue. Considering how powerful Ama was, it stood to reason she sought out a stallion that was… not ordinary. It was their way.

“I may be three or four times as strong as the average Mazan, but a Terran is stronger by far. I have met several in my travels, much earlier. It might surprise you, if you do not know, their strength is 20 times that of an Earth pony. It is a sight to behold.”

The company could only nod at this. They’d heard the tales.

Dechaa had to ask, “Your sword… how did you come to possess such a weapon?”

Ama put a hoof on the greatsword, “The queen of Mazan gifted it to me for the duration of my journey. Its name is… Dragonsquarter. No other Mazan could wield it. It was a ceremonial piece gifted to the queen from the Terran capitol. She believed the sword should be with me and I have the great honor to carry it for her. I… only wish I had not profaned the blade in the way I did.”

As it turned out, Zyra put a comforting hoof on Ama’s shoulder. Essenta and Dechaa were both glad to see this. Considering the sword, the name made sense. Ama probably could slay a dragon with that thing. She might not even need the sword, given what they’d seen.

Essenta had been piecing together a few things in her head, "Ama... in the last couple nights... did you... set a bunch of Timberwolves on fire, tear them apart, and throw them into the sky?"

The Mazan gawked at her and broke down laughing, "Oh, my! What a thing to say! You must be joking!"

Essenta looked at her, seriously, "No. We saw it the other night."

Dechaa and Zyra nodded.

Ama looked thoughtful, "Really... I have seen some of these creatures... Canines made of wood. They are easy enough to evade; I would not want to fight one. What you describe is possible, but not for a pony..."

The three looked to her. Ama looked... a little scared.

Ama twiddled her hooves, "It was a dragon... a full-grown dragon."

Dechaa just about crapped herself again, "A d-d-d-d- dragon?!"

Zyra looked pale, "A dragon... it crossed my mind, but... nopony's seen a dragon in this part of the continent for 500 years."

Essenta sat quietly. This was... scary...

Ama couldn't help but nervously chuckle, "I have spent more time in this forest than I wish to have. It will be a great relief when we leave it behind us. There are things far worse than dragons out here..."

The company could tell Ama was serious. And they could believe it. Forbidden Forest...

A heavy feeling of despair threatened to engulf them, and the four mares shook in their fear. After, only the crackling fire could be heard. The new arrival among them broke this up, desperate for anything else to talk about.

Ama looked to the princess, “Essenta… tell me of your… 'fool’s errand'."

It was hard for Ama to keep a straight face. Essenta chuckled into her porridge.

“My father was angry- is angry- at me. Ever since I was a filly, I’ve done… nothing but disobey him. I know I should honor my father, but there’s little to honor about him. About five weeks ago, a prince visited… as a suitor. Our fathers intended us to be married. We… decided to break decorum. We got drunk and caused a little trouble in town.”

Ama, to their surprise was positively giddy over this, “Oh, that sounds so naughty. But that is all that occurred?”

Essenta twiddled her hooves, “Well… we almost kissed… but we were caught before it happened."

Dechaa’s jaw dropped, “When were you gonna tell me about this?! How could you keep this from me?!”

Zyra and Ama laughed at this. Dechaa may have tried to hide it, but she had a serious love of romance.

Essenta blushed, “I was embarrassed! Anyway, Ama, he locked me in my room for a month as punishment… Then he and his inner circle came up with this plan to ‘scare me straight’. He told me I was to retrieve some artifact that probably doesn’t exist from the jungles to the south.”

Ama gawked, “That is asinine!”

Zyra guffawed over the dregs of her porridge, “That’s pretty much what I said. Anyway, Essenta’s dad had no intention of letting her go; he thought she’d beg for his forgiveness or something. We don’t know exactly what happened, but they came after us. If we’d waited until morning, Essenta might have been sent off somewhere with a dowry. She knew he was up to something, so we skipped town the same afternoon. We’ve been on the run for almost a week.”

Ama chuckled heartily, “I see… So, Essenta, what is it you plan to do?”

Essenta said evenly, “I’m going south. Whether the trinket exists or not, I’m going to find out. Father made the mistake of letting me loose and I’m going to turn the world upside down. I’m going to achieve fame not even he can smother!”

Dechaa and Zyra shied away. That was some statement. Ama considered the princess. She was serious.

Ama smiled enthusiastically, “Sounds interesting… Need some help?”

Author's Note

Check out the Appendix for Princess Essenta, updated as the story moves along. It shows the story's timeline and character designs. Contains spoilers.

Well, it seems Essenta's company has picked up the first of its "dynamic and dangerous" mares. Just what will Essenta and her companions come across next as they journey south?

Not sure why, but this chapter took some doing to write. It just didn't flow easily, probably because of the heavier subject matter. That said, expect the next chapter to be longer. It should be a fun one.

Look for the next chapter within a week.

Chapter 7: The Guard at the Bridge

Southward to New Friends Arc

In the week since Ama joined Essenta’s company, the quartet of mares was able to cover quite a bit of ground. Ama had proved to be a jolly traveling companion, telling stories of all the things she’d done and seen. A year wandering around the continent left her with plenty of interesting things to talk about.

Zyra was especially glad to chat with her. Ama had seen many of the places Zyra had only heard about in books or from her fellow mages or visiting ponies. Zyra had never been any further east than the Forbidden Forest that gave them such an interesting time.

The little company had made it through much of the forest and came to a range of mountains. To the Dale folk, it was known simply as the South-Central Range, but every land called every land feature something different. It wasn’t that far south, or central, in the grand scheme of the continent, but for the Dale it was enough for the name.

Unlike the jagged peaks west of the Dale or the ones Zyra recalled in the far western reaches of the continent, her old home, the mountains were relatively rounded. Rising up from the hilly lands east of them, they weren’t terribly imposing. Still, they had to decide: they could go east, around the range, sticking to the lower hills, or take a shortcut over the mountains.

It was now just past mid-summer. Traveling over the mountains at the time of year would be relatively safe. The mountains were neither tall or expansive enough, nor at a high enough latitude, to keep much of a snowline, save for the topmost peaks. Unless they did something particularly stupid, an avalanche would not be their biggest concern. The problem was that every map they had either came from the Dale or was picked up along the way. The mountains before them… were not well mapped out.

They decided, considering the ample ground they had covered, to rest a couple days north of the mountains. They would discuss the matter and gather up what food they could in the meantime. No matter how “mild” a mountain may have been, food could be sparse. It would really disappoint if they found themselves stuck or forced to turn around, only to run out of provisions.

Zyra was looking over a couple maps, trying to piece together what little knowledge they possessed, to plan a route. Unfortunately, there was no telling how long it may take to cross the range. Going around, even with optimistic thinking, would take them up to two weeks. It was a head scratcher.

Deciding to look at something more interesting, Zyra looked to her companions. She knew Ama was more than just the brawling monster many would mistake her for. Wiping out the bounty hunters was no act of skill; Ama was just powerful. But Ama, as other Mazans, trained as a warrior from the time she was a little filly. Whether a Mazan went on to be in the queensguard or farm wheat, all of them were trained to fight. Ama hadn’t pegged a life for herself, but she could probably do anything she pleased with it.

Even having never met another Mazan, Zyra knew Ama was special. Her physical power was unrivaled by anypony, possibly in the world, other than a Terran. Even with her father being a Terran, she was unusually tall and strong. A few days watching Essenta, Dechaa, and Ama spar with each other had told her many things.

Ama was well trained; she was probably better trained as a soldier than anypony in the Dale. The Dale wasn’t a place of weak ponies, but they were farmers, first and foremost. The Mazans were warriors, born and bred. Ama’s skill dazzled Essenta, and scared Dechaa. Ama was more than happy to explain things to the both of them. She had also become very impressed with Essenta’s skill, or willingness to win.

The princess often surprised her with her seemingly bottomless bag of tricks, causing Ama to take up a strong defense and counterattack. If the girls hadn’t been training with sticks, Essenta might have been used to paint the forest red a few times. It amused Ama, who was happy to learn from Essenta. Due to Dechaa’s fighting style and magic abilities, there wasn’t much one could teach the other, but Dechaa had improved over the last week, becoming more precise with her twin short swords.

Zyra had also been helping Essenta with something else… Her battle armor was coming along nicely. The smithy princess had ideas for later but cooked up something most interesting. And for her new toy, she needed a magic touch.

Essenta had made two pairs of cesti. With one for each hoof, it turned her legs into potentially lethal weapons. It wasn’t just the metal giving her power. Zyra had them imbibed with a powerful concussion magic. Whatever Essenta hit… she sent flying. Or she could be sent flying herself. Punching a rock sent her sailing backwards into a treeline, much to the amusement of Ama.

Sitting down, tired out from getting tossed around by Ama, Essenta panted, “That’s… enough… for today.”

Ama chuckled, “Well done, Essenta. A mare of your caliber would do my ponies proud.”

With a groan, Ama sat down too. She wasn’t immune to a day of good sparring either. Dechaa, relying on magic for most of her method, was better off. She set about cooking their dinner. The day before, they came across a small merchant who traded them a nice bag of vegetables and a bag of barley for one of the many knives Essenta routinely slapped together in her shop. She could make several in an afternoon. They could pass off for masters’ work.

Of course, vegetables, barley, and the spices they maintained meant barley soup. With it they had a crusty loaf of bread and fresh cheese. It was a fine meal, and all ate until content, with nothing left over. They would be able to have the same thing again the next day, having ample supply of ingredients.

Sitting around the fire they had, Essenta was licking and scraping the pot they’d used for the last dregs of soup burned to the bottom. Zyra and Ama were highly amused, the Princess of the Dale going after it, face fully in the pot, like a filly licking a bowl just used for cake batter. If only her father, the king, could see her now…

Dechaa frowned, “Oh, Sen… do you really need to do that? You’re a… princess after all…”

Essenta grunted, cut a noisy fart, and continued with her snack. Dechaa blanched while the other two fell off their log seats, laughing hysterically.

Zyra was almost in tears, “You tell her, Captain!”

Ama was generally unused to such merriment but had certainly enjoyed the humor of the continent. She had trouble catching her breath. Essenta now set aside the pot, wiping her mouth in a manner most unfit for a lady, much less a princess.

“Zyra… looking over the maps earlier, were you able to find much of anything? Any way through the mountains?”

Zyra was able to stop laughing and pulled out one of the maps, “I’m sorry to say, Cap, but I couldn’t find a thing… And we haven’t seen anypony all day. Nopony else the last couple days was able to tell us much. Seems there’s not much reason for anypony to go from one side to the other… There’s nothing but forest, mostly uncharted, on the other side. There’s a road west of us, that starts into the mountain. I know it used to be a major trading route, but it fell into disrepair after a little mining town dried up.”

Dechaa looked into the fire, having gotten over Essenta’s antics, “Just how far west would this road be… if we decided to go?”

Zyra shook her head, “Three days… Three entire days to get there. And we have no idea what’s along that route. The town dried up… six years ago. There was nothing else there. All we’d find is a ghost town with a big forest south of it.”

Essenta nodded, “Zyra… how many days would it take us to take the long way around? The eastern way, I mean…”

Zyra looked up from the map, “Being optimistic… I’d say two weeks. The one thing the map is very clear on, is that there’s a canyon running through the hills southeast of us. I can’t find any bridges and I don’t know the canyon’s topography. We could descend into the canyon, but then we’d have to find a way back out… with no help from the map. If you’re asking me for an opinion… we must go the long way. Going into the unknown is too risky.”

While the idea of the established route appealed to Essenta, with towns, cities, good food and drink… the idea of adding onto their trip bothered her. But she wasn’t the only one there. Sure, she was leading the excursion, but if she had learned one thing in her years, it was she didn’t know everything. She needed advice. It was something a good leader did… listen to her comrades.

Essenta considered her oldest friend, “Dechaa? What do you think?”

Dechaa looked up, with evenness, “We’ve never been through mountains, Sen… Going in blind is a bad idea. We need to go east.”

Ama spoke up, “There is an old saying among the Mazans… ‘The fastest route is straight through’…”

She took on a look of surprising revulsion, “The mare that said such a thing was a fool… And I was a fool to think that ‘great sage’ had ever been up a mountain. In the last winter, I became trapped in a northern mountain pass… I still do not know how I managed to stay alive… Just to save a few days… We may be a proud race, but we can be a foolish race… Thankfully, this humbled fool still breathes… We must go east.”

Essenta smiled, “Very well. We’ll rest here tomorrow and then set off for the Canyon Road. I think we could all do with a feather bed some night this week.”

That sounded positively heavenly to them all. Deciding to enjoy themselves, they cracked open the last bottle of corn juice. Essenta had finally met a mare that could outdrink her, in Ama. Zyra and Dechaa had watched them in a mixture of amusement and horror as the two of them sucked down the previous bottle. But that night they contented themselves with song and stories. The three Dale mares had plenty of things to tell Ama about, as well.

After another day of good food and rest, Essenta’s group set out. It had now been two weeks since the departure from Greendale. They all had a cheerful time on the Canyon Road. There was plenty to see, plenty to eat… This far away, Essenta was less concerned about running into trouble. They were hundreds of miles away from the Dale now. Still, she didn’t throw her name around and they covered themselves up. Apart from Ama, whatever anypony thought she might be, they looked like refugees. Considered, even Ama didn’t stand out that much. Seeing a Mazan wasn’t something a pony would see every day, but there were plenty of them that made it at least that far inland.

Perhaps the most welcome event of the journey so far, was their stay in a little inn, that had hot water. They would be able to wash not only themselves, but all their gear, in comfort and toasty warmth. Other than Dechaa’s couple days of fretting, nopony had complained the whole trip, but the idea of hot baths almost had them weeping with happiness… even Ama.

Then again, Ama never made any bid to hide her emotions. She was a very emotional mare, though not violently so… thankfully. Apparently, she was given a hard time when she was younger by her fellow Mazans, as the Mazans were touted as stoic ponies. She’d tested their own advertised stoicism by giving them a taste of her power, usually resulting in her aggressor running as if Hell was on her heels. Nopony bugged her about it after doing so once.

The girls, having scrubbed themselves raw, lounged around in a giant tub, in perfect contentedness. Essenta couldn’t recall a time she had been happier. They had a mind to drink but would probably all drown from the level of contentedness they’d achieve. So, they settled to drink after. The inn had a pub, and they had a good house ale. Putting on their most unremarkable garments, they went down.

The ale was good, Essenta and Ama sucking it down as if it was life in liquid form. Dechaa eked her way through a mug while Zyra managed to enjoy it. The cheese the innkeeper made was okay, so they had a wheel of it with a few loaves of heavy bread. Not dissatisfied with the plainness, they had a pleasant time over their meal.

The pub wasn’t full, but a few ponies sat around. Not engaging anypony, Essenta and her friends listened. They heard a few things about some king’s tax rates, farm prices, the lack of labor foreseen for a grape harvest… There was nothing of any real interest to them, so after they’d had their fill of ale, bread, and cheese, they decided to go upstairs to sleep in those feather beds they’d been dreaming of since they took the Canyon Road.

“You wouldn’t believe it! This merchant pony paid a bunch of unicorn masons to put it up! It only took two months to finish!”

“Well, with that monster at the gatehouse, how many ponies have actually been able to cross it?!”

The conversation got the company’s attention, and they stopped. Cross? A bridge, maybe? They listened.

A very old looking Pegasus stallion was talking to the bartender, an Earth pony stallion Dechaa thought smelled like a dysentery patient.

“In the two months it’s been open… 15 parties made it across. They were able to afford the fare. But nopony has had any luck with the gatekeeper. The first, and… well, only one to try was this freed gladiator from somewhere out east. Even with the ‘friendly’ match he was promised, that guard sent him into the forest canopy!”

The girls looked to Ama. Ama thought this sounded interesting. They continued to listen.

“Yep… it’s shit like this makes me glad I have wings… They’re not much anymore, but I can still fly across if I want. Sure as Hell saves me 10 days of walking, unlike you ground dwellers,” the old Pegasus cackled.

“Ha, ha, old timer. I don’t need to cross any bridge. I have a deal with the fella owns it. He’s my supplier from down south.”

This was enough for the company to act on. Despite Dechaa’s insistence she didn't, Essenta elected herself spokespony.

“Excuse me,” Essenta slurred. “What’s this about a bridge?”

The bartender looked at her oddly. Drunk refugee…

“Young miss… stay away from there. I don’t know where you come from or where you’re going, but it doesn’t look like you or any of your friends can afford to pay your way across. Just take the long way around like everypony else… Or find some Pegasus to fly you across.”

“Please, at least tell me where it is.”

“Young miss, have your friends put you to bed. You’ve had too much… I’ve never seen any mares drink like you and the Mazan, there… As far as the bridge goes, it’s a half mile down the road. You literally can’t miss it. But don’t go fuckin’ around with it. The gatekeeper’s a Terran.”

Dechaa made a move to grab Essenta, “I’m sorry about my friend. We’ll get her out of your mane.”

Unlike Essenta’s profound drunkenness, he and the old stallion were wowed by Dechaa. They practically drooled.

The old fellow whistled at her, "Hey, gorgeous... what do you charge for a half-and-half?"

This had Dechaa backing up, a cry building in her throat. She was terrified of horny old stallions, and it was the main reason she rarely went to any pubs with Essenta. The rest of the company looked on with disgust.

The two stallions laughed, and the company shepherded their intoxicated leader upstairs. After giving Dechaa some initial shit for being so demure, they crawled into their feather beds and slept about as well as any of them ever had.

Essenta woke with a foul taste in her mouth. Her mind a little foggy, she dipped her head into a bucket of cold water. Yeah… that’s better. Zyra was already awake, taking inventory of their supplies.

“Well, Cap, I went around a little this morning, asking what the fare was to cross the new canyon bridge. Everypony laughed at me and said I couldn’t afford it. But nopony gave me the price. I’d hate to spend most, if not all the gold we have, just to save a week-and-a-half. It’s simply not worth it… But, we do have quite a bit of money among us.”

Essenta sighed, “Well, our currency is out of the question. Even this far out, I don’t want to flash it around. Hell, I bet most of the ponies around here have never even seen Dale money.”

“I crunched some numbers: all in all, if we went for the pure metal, we have about six ounces of gold and… two pounds, three ounces of silver. And it goes without saying, nopony needs to know we have that kind of money. We could buy a house with that, here.”

Essenta nodded, “Not terrible news…”

“But we only have a few silver nuggets left… We’d have to do another extraction if we want anything more than a blackout-drunk night in the pub.”

Whether Zyra was taking a poke at Essenta or not, the princess didn’t care, “Well… the bridge won’t be out of the way. We could at least check the price. Or… just maybe, we could-”

Zyra rounded on her, “Don’t even say it, Cap. Fight the Terran?”

“We could at least see him… try to size him up.”

Zyra smiled, “Another thing I found out… the Terran’s a mare.”

“A mare?!”

“Yup. Apparently, she got stranded here about the time the bridge was completed. The merchant offered her a few pieces of gold to watch over it for him. Guess he’s not paying her much, but it’s more than any other pony has around here.”

This had Essenta’s interest, but she shut up about it. Rousing the rest of their friends, they had a hasty breakfast downstairs and set off down the road. Essenta yawned as they paddled through town. The sun was up, the birds were singing, and the sky looked blue as blue could be blue.

It didn’t take them long to see the bridge. It was incredible. The canyon at that point was only a couple hundred feet across, but it was still a marvel. They’d been looking over the canyon walls periodically, and it was more cliff than canyon wall. Small wonder nopony tried to descend.

Zyra fussed as they came closer to the gatehouse, now visible, “Captain… we can see what the price is, but we are not fighting the Terran.”

Essenta grumbled.

Ama perked up, “Fight the Terran? We can do that?!”

Zyra called back to her, walking second in the line, “That’s what the barkeep implied, but it’s a bad idea!”

Dechaa spoke up, “Zyra… Are you alright? You seem… a little more wound up than you are… ever.”

Zyra grabbed Essenta, stopping her roughly; she looked back to Dechaa and Ama, “Listen… we have no idea what we’re doing here. The idea of one of us getting hurt… getting… killed… just to save 10 or 11 days of travel? Don’t even think about it.”

The little mage had tears in her eyes. She sniffled, looking down at her front hooves. Dechaa came up to her, hugging her. Zyra buried her face in Dechaa’s cloak, shaking. Essenta felt like a real jerk, standing there. Dechaa looked at her without accusation, or any animosity. It was Zyra’s way. After a moment, she calmed down.

“I’m sorry, everypony… I don’t know what came over me.”

Essenta hoofed the back of her neck, “No, I’m sorry, Zyra. I’ve just been so wrapped up in this since we might have found another way across.”

Zyra wiped her eyes, “I know, Cap. Still… we might as well see what the fare is.”

This surprised them, but they exchanged nods and kept walking. Soon, they were at the entrance to the bridge.

Dechaa gawked at the way across, “Do you have any idea how much gold this must have cost to build?!”

“With materials and labor, it cost about 1.3 tons of gold. That’s 41,600 ounces,” the voice was almost cheerful and… very ladylike.

The company jumped at it, though. Turning around, they found themselves facing a heavily armored pony. Behind the facemask, they couldn’t make out the eyes.

The figure poked an armored hoof at the ground, “Oh, I’m sorry… I didn’t mean to scare you. I suppose you might've guessed, but I’m the gatekeeper.”

It was the voice they’d just heard. Essenta sized her up. Even with the armor, she could tell this mare was taller than her. She wasn’t nearly as big as Ama, perhaps the top of her head on level with Essenta’s ear tips. And Essenta was very average in height. The armor looked immensely heavy, but the mare couldn’t have been any bulkier than Essenta or Dechaa.

But all Essenta could come up with was, “1.3 tons of gold?”

The Terran giggled; it sounded weirder than shit coming out of that terrifying suit of armor, “I know! It’s hard to believe anypony could just throw around that kind of money! Most keepers of any royal coffers would be proud of that.”

Zyra whistled; it was hard to even imagine that much gold.

Essenta walked forward, “Please, do tell: what is the fare for my party of four to cross the bridge?”

The Terran spoke, “Four ounces of gold apiece.”

Essenta reeled at the idea. That was insane.

Zyra actually laughed, “No, really… How much would it be to cross?”

The Terran hoofed the ground again, rather sheepishly, speaking in an almost meek voice, “I… just told you. It would be a pound of gold for all of you to cross… or its equivalent in silver. Please... don’t ask me to do the math in my head...”

Essenta was aghast, “Why did this peckerwood merchant build such a thing?! It’s no wonder hardly anypony’s crossed this thing! How would he even make his money back?!”

The Terran tilted her head at Essenta’s outburst, “I know it’s a lot, but there’s no need for hysterics… It makes no sense to me, either, but he pays me to guard it.”

Crunching the numbers in her head, Essenta realized even if they pulled out all the silver they possessed, with the gold, it would only be worth… seven-and-a-half ounces of gold. They weren’t paying their way across.

The Terran shifted in her armor, “Oh, it’s hot in here… Well… you could try your luck at besting me in a sparring match… I… don’t know if you’d want to try, though.”

Essenta looked upon the armored Terran, and found she felt pity for her. To be so far away from home. The Terrans weren’t known for living in the west, and it was a fair guess this was the case with her.

“Tell me, gatekeeper, what’s your name?”

The Terran chuckled, “While you’ve impressed me as an interesting mare, I… I’m too embarrassed to tell you my name.”

Essenta did a take. What a strange thing to say!

“I, uh… kinda ran away from home a couple years ago. Well… not really ‘ran away’. I thought I’d go see the world. I was tired of ponies telling me I was no good. Then I got stuck out here. This job paid more than picking fruit, so here I am! Another week or two, and the merchant can find a new stooge. I’m going home. I can finally afford to leave, then. Still, I’d… rather just go on as anonymous.”

Essenta felt a stronger pity for this mare, but at least she could go home soon. Despite knowing they’d never cross paths again, she felt obligated to do something.

“Gatekeeper. My name is Essenta, the First Princess of the Dale. We’re on a journey of our own. I wish you the best fortune and safe travels.”

The Terran seemed taken aback, “Wow… Princess Essenta Dale. I’ve heard of you…”

Essenta realized she may have just made a grave error, and so did her friends, But…

“The jungles down south are most treacherous. I wish you good fortune and safe travels. Thank you for your kindness.”

With that, Essenta turned to her group, “Let’s go, everypony. If we move now, we should be able to make that town Zyra showed us on the map.”

They began to walk away… except for Ama.

Dechaa turned, “Ama?”

Essenta and Zyra looked back too.

Ama stood, an eager look on her face. She eyed the Terran, a visceral grin creeping across her lips.

“Zyra… I am so very sorry. I know you do not wish to see this… I say the same to you, Dechaa. And Essenta, I ask your forgiveness. You may not be my princess, but you are my friend… and my leader.”

Ama dropped her gear and unsheathed her greatsword. The ball-and-chain on her back leg jingled.

“There is no way I will pass up a chance to fight with a Terran…”

Author's Note

Check out the Appendix for Princess Essenta, updated as the story moves along. It shows the story's timeline and character designs. Contains spoilers.

This is a most interesting development. How will Ama deal with this Terran? Is she even a fighter? Or is she just strong? Ama's about to find out.

Wasn't planning on a release today, but had it ready.

Hope the story's been alright. I haven't had this much fun writing in years. There's still a lot of ground to cover before Essenta's little company makes its way to the great jungles in the southern continent.

If you enjoy Princess Essenta, please take a look at my other story, Larkspur Blossom, if you haven't. It's no adventure story, but it's a story I also enjoy writing... and one I've been meaning to work on for a rather long time.

Look for the next chapter in the coming week.

Take care.

Chapter 9: Lord of the "Fire Breathers"

Southward to New Friends Arc

King Dale sat upon his throne. It was late. He pondered. Two weeks had passed since his troublesome daughter skipped town with her friends in tow… That strange, young mare the magic guild took in all those years ago… And that nervous wreck of a unicorn… the apothecary’s apprentice…

He was furious at his old friend and councilpony, Sir Beiren. It wasn’t the fact Tobit tried to talk the king and his council out of the now obviously foolish decision to “scare Princess Essenta straight” that had him fuming; he now wished he hadn’t had him removed during the meeting. What angered King Dale was the fact Tobit didn’t have a tight enough leash on his antsy daughter to keep her from following Essenta. Essenta now had two unicorns, both reasonably talented, to help conceal her.

For the last week-and-a-half, King Dale had been publicly praising his daughter and her friends for their willingness to go on the quest. His subjects were prouder than ever of their favored princess. And they missed her. The story the king cooked up about the “escaped convict” held water, and he was still “on the loose”. While publicly supporting his daughter, he attempted to track her in secret. He had no luck in that.

What little intelligence he employed hadn’t seen hide or hair of Essenta. Nopony in the valley or the surrounding lands had seen her either. He’d contacted old friends and fellow rulers, and they hadn’t heard a peep regarding her… other than she was on a quest. The self-loathing he felt was no small thing. His daughter was out there, somewhere… dead or alive, nopony seemed to know.

King Dale stood. His guards were at attention, but he waved them down. They remained where they were, while King Dale left his throne room. He walked to his private study. Inside, he kept his favorite things: war trophies, tributes, other treasures… Among his treasures was a crystal ball. Given to him years ago as thanks for a favor, his old comrades, running their own lands, had their own balls. It was how they kept in touch.

As the days went on, he reached further and further out, looking for any evidence of his daughter. He had to get her back. He wasn’t exactly sure what he’d do with her when he retrieved her, but it would be nothing pleasant. There was an old friend… a friend King Dale hadn’t spoken with in quite a few years. He was of… the most dubious kind.

Lord Aodh Radulf was a mercenary leader in his past. One of King Dale’s neighbors hired him and his crew in the last war. The Confederation of the Valley had more than the Kingdom of Joeh to fight, and they needed help. As payment, “Commander” Radulf, a unicorn of frightening talent, asked for a lordship.

In the aftermath of the war, there were plenty of lands needing tending, so King Dale and his compatriots made the questionable decision to give him a piece of land, upon completion of his services. The land was unimpressive but was good for farming. Radulf agreed to the deal, as did his ponies.

The horror Radulf and his “Fire Breathers” unleashed upon the east was something nopony had ever seen before. But King Dale, furious with the Kingdom of Joeh, was there, right alongside Radulf, taking part in the atrocities. If King Dale’s subjects knew some of the things he’d done alongside this lunatic… some of the things his soldiers had been ordered to do under threat of death to them and their families… things not even his closest guards and advisors knew… his own subjects would hang him in the town square and piss on his corpse.

After the war, King Dale and his leaders sent Radulf to his new land, where he prospered in fruit production, of all things. Radulf was unknown to much of the continent. His new subjects and neighbors had no idea what kind of monster was lording over their flourishing little corner of the world. King Dale lost every ounce of respect from the handful of soldiers that went along on one particular endeavor: some deserted, some resigned and left the Dale... the rest committed suicide. But with these gone, all it meant to King Dale was a better hold over anypony learning what he’d done.

Not ashamed, but certainly scared of his association with Radulf, King Dale would have been content to forget the demon even existed. But King Dale was desperate. Giving Essenta all the credit she may have been due, Lord Radulf’s domain wouldn’t be far off from where she might be.

Hating every second of this undertaking, King Dale tapped on his crystal ball. A few moments later, it glowed, clouds swirling about within its confines. A unicorn appeared: his mane was as fire, over his ashen coat; his eyes burned with a ferocity not normally seen in anypony’s eyes. Seeing the pony on the other end, Lord Radulf laughed in a way that may have sounded jolly, if King Dale didn’t know him so well…

“Ansgar Dale… How are you, old friend? I haven’t heard from you in… nine years.”

King Dale cringed at the silky venom in his voice, “Hello, Aodh.”

Lord Radulf simpered, “Well, Ansgar… I have a feeling this isn’t a social call. When we parted ways all those years ago, I was under the impression you valley folk didn’t want to see little, old me again.”

King Dale frowned, “…”

Lord Radulf shrugged, a nasty grin plastered on his face, “No matter. What do you need? You must need something. I… shiver at the thought of what it might be. I know this: it’s something big.”

King Dale was already regretting this, “With your network, you’ve no doubt heard about my daughter… Essenta is traveling to the south.”

Lord Radulf cackled, “I was wondering what all that fuss is about. A quest?! From you?! I knew it had to be a joke. I’m guessing your little plan fell through, though… And you want her back.”

“Have you heard anything about her?”

“No… but we haven’t exactly been looking or… listening very hard, either. What can you tell me?”

King Dale felt sick; he knew what this stallion was capable of, better than anypony, “She probably looks much the same… blue-gray coat, pastel orange mane. You remember.”

“Of course… she was… quite the little trooper. She still playing soldier?”

King Dale glowered at him and Lord Radulf shook his head, chuckling.

“Fine, fine… No more games. Can she fight?"

King Dale hated giving Essenta any credit, "She can fight as well as any of my soldiers... Only a few of my guards can best her in a fight."

"Understood... I doubt like Hell she’s alone. What kind of crazy ponies followed her away from your pretty little kingdom?”

“Only two… you’ll remember Sir Tobit Beiran…”

“Ha! Sure… that tightwad. He still married to that harpy?”

King Dale sighed; Tobit's wife was a Pegasus, and something of a... nag, “Yes, he’s still married to that harpy. But it’s one of his daughters that followed Essenta.”

“I didn’t know he had any daughters… Well, no matter. Tell me about her.”

“Well, like her father, she’s a unicorn… she’s not really a fighter. Her name’s Dechaa Beiran. She’s a healer. Until two weeks ago, she trained under the apothecary. She has… an ebony mane, sharp brown eyes, and a straw coat.”

Lord Radulf lounged, “What about the other?”

“Another unicorn mare… you’ll have to be careful of her. Her name’s Zyra Argon… She’s a fire mage.”

“Really? Is she skilled?”

King Dale considered his hoof, “I’ve seen her do things even your best mages couldn’t… But as for her resolve- it shouldn’t be much of a problem. She’s an odd little mare. She has this dull, sandy mane- she keeps it cropped- with a… light green coat. Her eyes are pretty dull, too.”

Lord Radulf leaned forward, “I’m guessing you want your daughter back, alive and in one piece… and ‘untouched’…”

King Dale fumed at his old fighting companion, “Don’t even joke about her that way!”

“Whoa, whoa… Fine! No harm will come to Essenta… What of the other two?”

At this, King Dale felt his dinner threaten a hasty exit back up his throat, “Whatever does end up happening, Essenta must never know. The mage… I don’t care what happens to her. She’s just a war orphan our magic guild took in… from the west. If she gets in the way… don’t hesitate. Just don’t underestimate her… she has… well, what the physicians call ‘battle fatigue’. She’s dangerous.”

Lord Radulf laughed, “So, she’s a little basket case, is she? Fine… What about Tobit’s pretty daughter?”

If sending death to Zyra bothered him, the prospect of ordering the same upon Dechaa had him reeling; still, his resolve hardened, “As I said… Essenta must never know! She is not to see your faces or find out who any of you are! Do what you see fit… or what your stallions see fit. Just make it quick… Neither unicorn must ever return to the Dale!”

Lord Radulf was in tears he was laughing so hard, “You were quick to change your tune, there. I didn’t think you had it in you anymore to order such a thing on two ‘innocent little mares’…”

King Dale’s face fell, and he glared daggers into the crystal ball.

“Oh, Ansgar… I guess I shouldn’t put it past you. You no doubt remember that Earth pony? The one from the Joeh village? What you did to his wife and little filly! With your own hooves! Right in front of him, while he begged... Even I’ve never seen that! It even shocked some of my worst stallions, and I’ve seen them do-”

King Dale roared, “NEVER SPEAK OF THAT TO ME! You would do well to watch yourself, Lord Radulf.”

Even King Dale, the mediocre leader he was, still commanded some respect… even from the very worst of ponies.

Lord Radulf wasn’t smiling now. He wasn’t cowed, but he still had some semblance of knowing his place in the world.

“Yes, Ansgar…”

King Dale calmed himself, “Let us discuss your payment. What is it you want?”

“I was going to ask for Tobit’s daughter since you don’t care so much, but you do care enough that you don’t want her to suffer. I won’t ask for the mage, either, in that case. There’s… really nothing you have that I want. I have gold… I have riches… and I have a stable of mares at my beck and call. My stallions certainly enjoy them, too…”

King Dale blanched, “You couldn’t be asking for Essenta?!”

“You have to consider… it would get her out of your mane. I’d keep her here, and she’d never trouble you again. I think I could even manage to hide our… relationship, and the things it entails.”

“I will not give you my daughter. I still need her.”

Lord Radulf chided him, “Gold, gold, gold… Is that all you think about? I know she’d command a handsome dowry, but gold’s not everything. Still… I’m not interested in her, anyway.”

King Dale grew tired of this, “Just tell me what you desire, already.”

Lord Radulf pondered, “How old’s Calleha, now?”

“Damnit, Aodh! Enough!”

“Very well… I’ll do it as a courtesy. You did secure me this land when your compatriots tried to shank me… You have my word: no harm will come to Essenta. She will not see her friends perish and we will not reveal ourselves to her. In the end, she’ll wake up in her own bed, with no memory of how she got there… She’ll fall asleep in her camp… and wake up in the Dale.”

King Dale sighed; the terms were good, “How will you find her and her friends? Even with your best trackers, it won’t be easy.”

“Let me worry about that. I’ll put my best three stallions on it. I will contact you when they find her, before I allow them to do anything. If she's out there, somewhere, we will find her. I promise.”

King Dale nodded, “Thank you, Aodh.”

Taking on a look of concern, real but unfitting for the Lord of the “Fire Breathers”, “No matter how well this goes off, your daughter will know whose order it was that brought her home. She will never forgive you. Or trust you again. She will know her friends perished… And your family… Tobit... Are you absolutely sure you’re willing to accept that?”

It was King Dale’s turn to scoff, “It’s odd, hearing you worry about such a thing. I will concern myself with my foolish daughter. All I need from her is to go off and make little colts and fillies for whomever wants her. I will break her. And fuck forgiveness… I’m not interested.”

Lord Radulf looked back at King Dale; it was hard to say which one of them was more of a monster, “I understand, Ansgar. It will be done.”

The crystal ball faded out. King Dale, no longer feeling sick about what he was having done, left the room and went back to his throne.

There he sat. He had little interest in sleeping. He just sat there, wondering what to do next.

Author's Note

Check out the Appendix for Princess Essenta, updated as the story moves along. It shows the story's timeline and character designs. Contains spoilers.

Well, I never said King Dale was a good pony. He's sicced the worst of his old allies on his daughter, condemning her best friends. Still, he underestimates Essenta. She continues to enlist companions, that she comes to know as friends, to her half-baked cause. As she moves along, it will be harder to remain anonymous, even in the further reaches of the land.

I was going to have this included as an afterthought to the previous chapter, but decided after a time it was substantial enough to merit its own. I prefer when chapters sit between 2K and 5K words. I feel it flows better.

Next time, the company continues further south, into woody prairie, leaving mountains and dense forest behind them.

Look for Chapter 10 sometime in the next week.

Take care.

Chapter 10: Playing Soldier

Renata Arc

“I spy, with my little eye… something… striped.”

Essenta looked around for what Loress had described. It took her a minute, but she saw them. And she smiled at their busyness.

“Honeybees. Over there.”

Indeed, there were bees flying around some of the later-summer flowers that had appeared. It was a warm, pleasant, and peaceful day. A week had passed since the day at the bridge. For the last few days, they had the great pleasure of walking through some very pretty meadows. Having left the forests around the mountains, they would soon enter another.

It was only a small patch of forest though, keeping from their immediate view the town of Renata. They didn’t plan to stop in Renata, as their supplies were adequate. The trip would take no less than half a day, and if they didn’t need to go, it would be better to wait another day or two before stopping. There were towns dotting the road they traveled.

Loress, in addition to being a joyous addition to their little party, was a fine cook. She’d been able to stretch their food, which was good, as they hadn’t seen a town since they took her along. They’d only seen a few ponies, with little food to spare. The mares still had trouble finding wild fruit and some of the flora didn’t agree with their stomachs, so Loress was indeed lovely to have around. She also added… an unpretentious element to the party.

To pass the time, Zyra had gotten them started on the “I Spy” game a while back, and in spite of initially thinking it stupid, they had come to enjoy it. Ama had never even heard of the game and she was giddy as a filly with a bag of sweets.

The rest hadn’t played the game since they were fillies themselves. But sometimes reaching back can be fun. It gave them something to look at besides the rump in front of them.

Zyra giggled, walking in the middle, “I spy, with my little eye… something… pretty white.”

They were baffled. Looking around, there was nothing obvious. Loress, walking behind Essenta, who was walking point, turned to look.

She was enjoying the game very much, “I give up, Zyra… What do you spy?”

Zyra grinned fiendishly, “Your pretty, white ass!”

Loress squealed, running up alongside Essenta a moment. The rest of them laughed uproariously.

Loress flushed, “That’s not nice, Zyra. My coat’s vanilla, anyway…”

Essenta shook with laughter, “Zyra… lay off it. Just play the game.”

The little mage grumbled, “Fine… I spy, with my little eye, something… delicate.”

Ama, walking in the back, spoke up at once, “Butterflies.”

There were a few of them flying over the company. Dechaa grumbled.

“What is wrong, Dechaa?” Ama called from behind. “Are you feeling alright?”

“Yeah… I’m… just no good at this game. Never have been…”

Ama was somewhat unconcerned with this, “Dechaa, it is all in good fun… I spy, with my little eye, something… what is that?”

Essenta had noticed first. A Pegasus was darting about a treeline, just a short distance ahead. Using both her wings and legs, she was apparently working on her agility. Just a moment of watching her told them she was rather spry. Getting closer, they noticed her move over to a space of vertical logs, embedded in the soil. She was jumping from log to log, a staff held in the crook of her front leg. With the staff, she was knocking around swinging targets. Her hoofwork, jumping around without the use of her wings, was most impressive.

The party continued to watch, and the Pegasus didn’t notice them at first. Ama was most impressed by her good technique, while Dechaa couldn’t believe her dexterity. Loress saw while the Pegasus wasn’t as fast as she was, she was more agile. Essenta and Zyra just thought it was cool.

But the little Pegasus wasn’t perfect: she missed a swinging log with her staff and got knocked off her hooves. Rather than fall upon her little log setup, she unfurled her wings, flying off to the side. She sat there, panting and holding her side where the log swung into her.

Essenta addressed her, now close enough to make out the young mare’s features. Her pink coat and blonde mane were easy to see, but her eyes, a soft brown, were a most interesting thing. The Pegasus rounded quickly, obviously surprised by her visitors. She was rather pretty.

“Good morning, miss,” Essenta smiled at her. “How are you doing, this fine day?”

Essenta’s friends eyed each other; the princess didn’t normally act this way. Why did the princess have such a grin pasted?

The pink mare eyed Essenta’s goofy smile, “Uh… I’m… fine, I guess.”

Essenta looked around at the setup, “What are you working on?”

“I’m… training?”

Ama pushed Essenta aside; Ama knew what Essenta’s issue was. She smiled more genuinely.

“Forgive my friend… she… appears to be under the impression you are quite young. But I see you are not much younger than any of us.”

Ama looked around at the Pegasus’s training yard in the woods, specifically at the hoofwork area, “The log floor is a most useful tool. I admit… it was something I never fully mastered. But you appear to have a pretty good grasp.”

The little Pegasus’s eyes widened, “Wow… you’re a Mazan, aren’t you?”

Ama grinned, “Yes. My name is Ama, of the clan Waterfall. I am with my friends on a journey. We just happened to walk nearby and saw you.”

The pink mare wiggled in her excitement and flashed a toothy smile, “It’s so cool to meet you! I’m Wilka… Wilka Starling. Just call me Wilka!”

Wilka considered the company, again addressing Ama, “So… where are you taking your group?”

Ama chuckled, “Oh, I am afraid I am not the one in charge… she is.”

Ama pointed to the princess, now smiling nervously. Was it really safe to say who she was?

Wilka did a take. Some Earth pony? It wasn’t that she was an Earth pony, it’s that… she appeared most unremarkable. There were two unicorns, one an obvious mage, with a Mazan, and then another Earth pony that… was not only beautiful, but radiated something she could quite identify.

All Wilka could get out was, “…Okay…”

Zyra and Loress laughed hard at this. It wasn’t the first time somepony found it hard to believe this crazy looking group would follow such a mare. Dechaa felt a little more sympathy… she knew what it was like to be judged as less than she was.

But Ama came to her defense, “It is no laughing matter. I chose to follow this mare because I believe in her cause. And because she has become my friend.”

This was good enough for Wilka; she approached the princess, “I’m sorry. It’s good to meet you. I know I look young… but I turn 17 in about a week. Where are you going? Who are you?”

Essenta was taken aback by the young one’s enthusiasm. But something about her seemed… off. Spending years with Dechaa taught her what fear looked like in a pony, even if it was well hidden. Something about this little pink Pegasus was… just off. Essenta decided to take a gamble. Her friends might not like it, but she had a feeling.

“I’m Essenta. We’re traveling south.”

Wilka considered, “That doesn’t tell me much.”

“This is Princess Essenta of the Dale.”

Essenta jumped, as did the others. Dechaa, of all ponies, had spoken. She’d been considering this new mare for a time and could see a few things. A lot of her was muddled, but it was clear there was little wrong in her.

Wilka was still nonplussed, “Never heard of the Dale. Where’s that?”

Dechaa smiled pleasantly, “It’s surprising to run into somepony that’s never at least heard of the Dale. Still… it’s about a thousand miles north of us. We’ve been traveling almost a month. We’re going to the southern jungles.”

Still, Wilka was flummoxed, “Why in the world would you want to go down there? There’s nothing much there… Not since the plague swept Salvatrix…”

It was apparent the subject was upsetting to Wilka. Dechaa noticed.

“That’s where we’re going… I’m sorry, Wilka. Did you… have any ties to Salvatrix?”

Wilka looked at her sadly, “No… but I know what it is to watch a place I love fall…”

Deciding to avoid the subject, Dechaa switched gears, “I was hoping you might be willing to trade. We’d rather not head into Renata if we can avoid it… sort of out of the way. But it would be a relief to add to our food supply, rather than wait for the next town.”

Wilka shook her head, “I don’t have much in the way of food. I live just outside of Renata, actually. I only have a lunch packed with me. I just set up my training ground out here because there’s space.”

Ama addressed Wilka again, “You appear to have some skill, but why are you training? I have been through these parts before, and there is no army for a hundred miles.”

Wilka looked up to her, “I… just want to be stronger. I don’t want to join any army… It’s for me.”

Ama considered Wilka. Nopony trained as such without a reason. Wilka’s soft brown eyes betrayed a fear Ama couldn’t quite place… but it was powerful. It may not have been her place, but Ama saw something in the young one.

Ama gave an all-in smile, “I know we have just met, but… would you be interested in traveling with us?

Essenta and Dechaa performed the horsey snort, what?! Essenta wasn’t pleased. She didn’t want some kid along on their trip. Sure… they weren’t more than kids themselves, but Wilka was very much a filly. Dechaa was also skeptical.

Loress and Zyra, having learned to trust Ama’s judgement, were much less at odds with the idea. Wilka may have been something of a child, but with the crew they’d assembled… it was hard to criticize any idea without testing the waters first.

Wilka’s eyes shined. Essenta realized she was very touched. Wilka looked at the ground a moment.

“I… uh…”

Ama smiled sadly at Wilka. She knew what was going on. She herself only joined Essenta because she was impressed with Essenta’s ambition. Wilka needed to be proven she was wanted. They had to gain her trust. She was now determined for her to come along with them.

“I see you are quite skilled in practice, but… how are you in sparring?”

Wilka looked up, a sudden happiness on her face, “I’m… pretty good. At least amongst anypony around here.”

Ama, now almost giddy, could tell the little one was being humble, “I have an idea. Lunch is soon. We should have a few sparring matches! There are six of us now. It has been a good week since we sparred, and it would be most enjoyable. When we are done, we could all sit down and fix ourselves a nice lunch... Then we can talk about our journey.”

The company had to admit… this sounded fun.

Loress walked up to Wilka, “I suppose we should finish introducing ourselves. I’m Loress Claystable. That’s Zyra Argon and Dechaa Beiran… they’ve been with the princess from the start.”

Wilka still couldn’t figure out what was going on with Loress. But she didn’t look like much of a fighter. Considering the company, Wilka decided.

“Okay! Whatever weapons you prefer, I probably have some sparring weapon to match it.”

Ama was pleased, “I suggest we draw lots to see our pairings. Please-”

Wilka didn’t mean to interrupt, “Uh… I was hoping to take on all of you… one at a time…”

The company did a collective take. All of them? That sounded gonzo, considering what a couple of them could do! But regarding Wilka, she wasn’t underestimating them, exactly, from what they could tell. She had something up her sleeve.

Ama laughed heartily, “It is now very clear to me there is more to you than meets the eye! We will spar as you request… I only ask that I choose the order of your matches.”

Ama had an idea of her own. Perhaps she would be proven right.

Wilka beamed, “I’m okay with that!”

She ran off to a large trunk she had in a thicket. She dragged it over. Hoofing open the box, the company saw Wilka indeed had about everything they might want. Some were wood and some were steel, but all appeared non-lethal… unless one had the inkling to make it otherwise.

Essenta pulled Ama and her friends to the side, “Ama! What’s your game? And what’s Wilka’s game? We just met this mare!”

Ama hoofed Essenta’s shoulder, “Trust me, Essenta. How long did we know each other before I followed you? What about Loress?”

Essenta supposed, “I-”

“Please, Essenta… There is something you must not see in this Pegasus. But I see it… Perhaps Dechaa and Zyra can… Maybe Loress too.”

All three of these mares looked at each other, and then to Essenta and Ama. They nodded.

“Ama’s right, Captain…” Zyra began. “She has a strange magic about her.”

Essenta couldn’t believe this, “Other than her normal Pegasus magic, there’s no way she could have anything else.”

Dechaa looked nervous, “All the same… it’s there.”

Loress hoofed Essenta’s shoulder, “I think we should see what happens…”

Essenta looked up, “Okay… Ama… Set up an order.”

After about half an hour, Ama had an order set up. Dechaa first, Zyra second, herself third, Loress fourth, and Essenta last. Nopony wanted to say anything, but… why put Essenta last? She… wasn’t the best warrior. For that matter, why have Zyra fight at all? But Ama quelled their misgivings.

“Just spar with her. And watch. If I am correct… it will prove most interesting,” Ama had the same visceral grin they’d seen when she was about to fight Loress.

This wasn’t a bad sign, and they resigned to the idea.

Each mare would fight Wilka, choosing the weapons for the match. Dechaa was up first, choosing a single short sword. Wilka had hers clamped between her teeth, while Dechaa carried hers in a magic aura.

The company cheered their friend. Dechaa stood nervously. She knew something was up with their new acquaintance, but it was unclear to her what it might be. Before she was even ready, Ama called for the fight to start.

Wilka moved so quickly, she may as well have disappeared. Dechaa teleported back, catching Wilka’s sword.

Wilka grinned, “Teleportation… nice. I’ve never fought anypony that could do that.”

Barely pausing, Wilka went after Dechaa. It was much like the fight Loress had with Dechaa, expect Dechaa didn’t have any tricks up her sleeve as she did with the cesti. And Wilka was more agile than the Terran, despite lacking in her speed. It was simply a matter of wearing Dechaa out. She couldn’t keep up her defense, her teleporting to safety, and Wilka’s swift and unpredictable movement.

Dechaa tripped up, Wilka standing over her, “I yield, Wilka.”

The company clapped. It had been a good showing on both parts. Wilka smiled at Dechaa, who returned one, and helped her to her hooves.

“Dechaa… your efficiency is most impressive! I think if you worked on your endurance and tried fighting two or three ponies at a time, there’d be no beating you!”

Two or three ponies sounded like a lot to Dechaa, but she smiled and shook hooves with the Pegasus. She may have been the first to notice: Wilka wasn’t even winded a moment after the fight. It was clear the fight wore her out a bit, but she was fine now. Dechaa had an inkling of just what they may have been dealing with, but it was too farfetched to consider.

Ama pointed to Zyra, “You’re up, little mage.”

Zyra chose the staff; it was the closest thing there was to her own magic staff. But what Wilka didn’t know was Zyra had no skill in the staff. She could barely use any weapons. Wilka was in for a little surprise.

Ama, not suspecting what was about to happen, shouted, “Begin!”

Wilka came barreling in, swinging the staff with purpose. Loress gasped and Ama was suddenly concerned; Zyra was just standing there, as a statue. But Zyra hadn’t shown either of them most of her tricks… there hadn’t been opportunity. But Essenta and Dechaa, her oldest friends, new what was going on. They tried to hide their glee.

Wilka spun through the air, flying at Zyra. Instead of raising the staff, Zyra moved a few inches, grabbing Wilka as she was about to hit. Locking her hooves around Wilka, she pulled her to the ground, and applied a little pressure.

Wilka started howling, “Oooooow! Yield! Yield! Yield!”

Zyra let her up at once. She smirked at Wilka, staring back at her in disbelief, trying to regain her hooves.

“What was that?”

Zyra sniffed, “Just a little deception. I thought I’d surprise you. I’m not much for hoof-to-hoof, but even I know a few locks.”

Indeed, she did. Essenta and Dechaa remembered with fondness and agony just how good Wilka was at grappling. She’d grown tired of being picked on, with only magic to defend herself, so she learned how to react to other foals when magic failed her.

Ama and Loress, surprised but pleased, cheered for their friend.

Wilka smiled humbly, “I… didn’t really mean to underestimate you, Zyra, but… Wow! You really got me!”

Zyra shook hooves with her, “It was a gamble. Half the time, it doesn’t work…”

Wilka laughed, “Well, sometimes it does. That was fun!”

Dechaa noticed Wilka was again the same, but it told her nothing. All the locks applied did was elevate her heart-rate and get her attention. It would be a little while before anything else was clear. Zyra, though, had noticed what Dechaa had. She sat next to the other unicorn, both exchanging knowing looks. Dechaa was unsure, but Zyra was grinning. Ama would definitely expose Wilka’s technique.

Ama would have preferred something larger, but she settled on the staff. It would be a fair match, but unlike Zyra, she was skilled in the staff. It would be interesting.

Wilka, apparently not too worried about previous opponents, was aghast at facing a Mazan… especially one radiating the kind of strength Ama did.

Ama considered, and chuckled good-naturedly, “Do not worry, Wilka. We are simply having a sparring match. I am rather accomplished with the staff, but it is not my forte. Perhaps we will surprise each other.”

Wilka felt at ease, “Let’s just begin when we wish… no starting call.”

Wilka made a stance, while Ama answered with her own, smiling at her.

Ama mused, “That is alright with me.”

But it may not have been alright. Wilka went poof before Ama’s eyes. She’d blinked, and the little Pegasus was gone. But she wasn’t gone. Wilka brought down the staff, right onto Ama’s head. Ama’s lights went out and she collapsed in a heap, her eyes rolling back.

It was so fast, nopony knew just what to do. Wilka stood there, eyes darting from the growing lump on Ama’s forehead to her shattered staff.

Wilka screamed, looking at her new hero, “Ahhhhh!! I didn’t mean to do that!”

Dechaa rushed over to Ama, checking her out. Wilka was fretting, twiddling her broken weapon. Essenta and Loress cringed at the sight of all this. Zyra, however, was trying not to laugh, a mixture of horror and amusement evident in her voice. She looked down, a pained expression creeping across her face.

“Oh, wow! That sure was a surprise.”

Loress scowled at her, concerned over Wilka’s unease, “Oh! Hush now! And help Ama.”

Zyra threw her hooves up, “Fine…”

She knelt next to Ama, working alongside Dechaa.

Wilka looked close to tears, and Loress patted her shoulder, “She’ll be alright, Wilka. It may sound strange, but I don’t think she’ll be mad when she wakes up.”

It took a moment for Ama to come around, but she did. She sat up quickly, holding her head as she felt a jolt of pain run through her. She sat up so quickly, Wilka yelped.

Wilka didn’t know what to expect. She certainly didn’t expect Ama to joyfully embrace her, laughing fit to bust.

“Wilka! That was amazing! I blinked, and that was it. You are indeed skilled! I just wish I could have seen it!”

Wilka was a little confused, but glad the Mazan didn’t up and give her an ass-whupping. The other girls had seen her attack Ama… it had been something to see. Ama ruffled Wilka’s voluminous mane, jostling her good-humoredly.

The Mazan couldn’t stop grinning, “Well, you still have two of us to go. Loress! Show her what you can do!”

Loress smiled, getting Ama’s idea, “Okay.”

Loress stood with no weapons. Wilka took up across from her, unsure of what was going on.

“Uh… Loress? No weapons?”

Loress smiled innocently, “Just my hooves…”

“Very well. Let’s see what happens…”

Wilka stared across to Loress. She wasn’t underestimating her, but… Loress was just some Earth pony, right? Still… Ama put her second to last. Was this mare hiding something? And what did the princess have hidden, going last? It was silly to put somepony last in a fight just because she was the leader. Something was going on…

But Wilka shook her head. Overthinking wouldn’t help her. She just had to fight Loress, as she would anypony. Go in, test the waters, and try to win.

Ama, sitting with an icepack on her head cooked up by Dechaa, called, “Begin.”

Wilka didn’t charge in. She circled the beautiful Loress, trying to size things up. Loress, in turn, turned slowly in place, continuing to face her. Wilka was very unsettled. She had a feeling, deep in her gut, that if she made the first move… she’d be smeared… Loress continued to look at her, pleasantly.

The company looked on. Zyra was disappointed Ama didn’t draw out Wilka’s little secret, whatever it may have been. Dechaa was fretting over Ama’s bump on the head than the fight. Essenta sat, more nervous than she expected; she just hoped Loress didn’t mess her up too badly…

Loress eyed Wilka playfully, “It seems I will have to make the first move.”

In a flash, Loress shot towards Wilka. Wilka had only seen a couple ponies move this fast on the ground. But… while Loress was very fast, she lacked the quickness to make the most of it against an opponent like Wilka. Wilka dodged, leaping wildly out of the way. Loress could still turn around quickly and began to chase Wilka.

Wilka led her through the forest. The company suspected Loress would simply barrel through everything, as if the trees were kindling, but she skillfully weaved her way around the obstacles. Maybe it was that she didn’t have her probably indestructible suit of armor she’d chased Dechaa with. Splintering all those trees would hurt… or maybe she had some other game.

Wilka made it back out to open ground. She took flight, panting. Loress smiled up to her.

“A little tuckered out, Wilka?”

Wilka gasped; if her own endurance was impressive… Loress’s was out of this world, “I… can’t see… how anypony can run like you!”

Loress chuckled, “Well… that’s a secret for now. Will you come back down and play with me?”

The company looked on; it was unlike Loress to taunt anypony. Wilka wasn’t taking the bait but didn’t want to come down just yet. She was in between a rock and a hard place. There was no way she could keep out of reach much longer… She had to… recover.

After a moment, Wilka surprised the group by bolting down, fresh as a daisy, continuing to lead Loress around the forest and open ground with renewed ferocity. It wasn’t just a case of catching her breath… it was more than that.

Ama gasped. The rest looked to her. Zyra smiled at her. Essenta was confused, but Dechaa understood as well.

Ama shook her head wonderingly, “I have never heard of a Pegasus with this ability. In fact, only a unicorn should be able to do this…”

Essenta felt lost, “What are you all going on about?”

Zyra, kneaded their beloved leader’s shoulder, “Wilka’s a regenerator, Cap. It takes some doing to achieve that! Theoretically… anypony can do it, Ama. It’s a magic more than just unicorns can achieve. Still… I’ve never seen one… period. Nopony in my guild was able to do this…”

Dechaa nodded, marveling, “I wonder… just how far she’s made it…”

They would learn in a moment, and it wouldn’t be fun to see…

Wilka felt herself getting tired again. She still knew nothing of this mare, other than she was fast and had seemingly bottomless reserves of energy. She had to end this fast! Seeing an opportunity, she did a sidestep, and punched Loress as hard as she could in the mouth. A knockout was all she could figure to try for.

Only… Loress wasn’t concussed. She didn’t even budge. Wilka looked on in horror as Loress, cringing a little, opened her eyes. Wilka sank to her knees, astonished. She was done with this fight.

“Loress… you’re not just some Earth pony, are you?”

Loress, a trickle of blood issuing from her mouth, smirked, “No, I’m not.”

The two fighters heard Dechaa cry out. Looking over, everypony looked shocked.

Wilka, noting Ama’s jaw drop, “…Ama? What’s wrong?”

Essenta answered, voice wavering, “Wilka…! Your leg!”

Wilka and Loress noted the leg used for the punch. Wilka lifted it. It was broken. Loress jumped back in revulsion.

“Oh, Wilka! I’m sorry! Oh, what do we do? Dechaa!”

Wilka looked at it with disgust, “Ahhh! Ow! Gross!”

Loress was dancing backwards, when Dechaa ran up, “Wilka… let me see.”

But Wilka held her off with her good leg, “Stop… I’ve got this.”

Dechaa, Zyra, and Ama had suspected she had the power to regenerate, but what they saw was a little more than they bargained for.

Wilka appeared to concentrate very hard. The company heard popping and snapping… Wilka’s leg was… straightening out… on its own! With many more a snap and a pop and even a crunch, it was as good as new.

A cry of disgust rose up from the party. Essenta turned away and threw up what remained of her breakfast. Dechaa fainted. Loress and Ama looked on in astonishment, repelled by the act. Zyra was crying out in a mixture of surprise and aversion.

Zyra shook her head, “Never… never in my whole life did I think I would see this… Wilka… you’ve mastered regeneration magic!”

Wilka, looking quite ill herself, shook her head, “No… there’s still a lot for me to learn about it…”

Well… this impressed the company. Wilka did need more than a few minutes to recover, so they woke Dechaa, who did not appreciate what she had just witnessed. Even Zyra, ready for a good jibe about this, couldn’t bring herself to mock her friend. She had been just as shocked.

After a while, Wilka stood up, looking a little green behind the gills. Essenta grimaced.

“Wilka… are you sure you’re okay?”

She waved a hoof, “I haven’t been hurt like that in a while, but I’ll be fine in a few minutes. Really, keeping the blood pumping helps. Just gimme a couple minutes, and we can have our match…”

Essenta smiled, impressed by their new friend. At least… Essenta hoped Wilka would be their friend.

Despite their recent aversion to what they had seen, the company began to set up for lunch. Loress made a stew, which they were growing tired of eating, but it was always a good utility dish. Zyra had found some wild blueberries, so she helped Loress make scones, which would be ready at the end of their meal. The stew smelled good, and they began to regain their appetites.

But first, Essenta had to spar with Wilka. They company and Wilka both had two wins, so this would break the tie. They weren’t really keeping score. This was just how things stood.

Essenta, unsurprisingly, lent Wilka one of the cesti pairs she had. After explaining how to use them, they agreed to a match using the cesti on their front hooves. The company worried a little. Those cesti could cause some damage. But the girls agreed to not try to really hurt the other, as opposed to trying not to hurt the other. They would have a sparring match, pure and simple.

Too on edge to cheer for this fight, the company watched their leader face off with the little Pegasus. The two smiled to each other. Wilka knew Essenta was something special. She hadn’t seen her fight but suspected it. Essenta knew Wilka’s power. She’d seen enough to figure out things… But figuring out her opponent didn’t mean she’d win.

When Ama called for a start, the two mares immediately clashed. Wilka realized Essenta was much stronger, physically. Another clash told her she lacked both the speed and agility that set her friends apart. After a few clashes, each dodging the others punches and kicks, Wilka realized there was nothing remarkable about Essenta. There was something there, but it wasn’t apparent… until things heated up.

Essenta was… determined. She could take a hit like a champ, often bouncing back from hits that would have knocked the others, Wilka felt, right out. And Essenta could lay down quite a beating. The fight went a few minutes and was a miserable thing to watch… for the others. Essenta and Wilka were having a grand old time, laying into each other. They looked… content, brawling as they did. Knocking each other around, sprawling away, they had fun.

After a few more exchanges, both mares, bruised and battered, Essenta even missing a few teeth, both fell on their rumps.

Essenta gasped, “I’m… done… I can’t do anymore.”

Wilka was at the end of her rope as well, “Me too… I’m a little worn out… Can’t… fix my face…”

Essenta laughed at that; her own face was quite the mess, “I hate to call a draw, but… draw?”

Wilka leaned over and shook Essenta’s hoof, “Draw…”

Dechaa grimaced as she magicked the few teeth strewn about, while Zyra began to ease the damage the two mares had inflicted on the other. As it turned out, Wilka had kept her teeth; they were all Essenta’s. Dechaa was practically crying as she and the half-amused Zyra fixed her up. After a time, both mares, while still battered and bruised, each would be able to eat.

Essenta looked at her reflection in a steel pan, “Wow, Zyra! You and Dechaa did a good job! Remember that time when I was 13?”

Zyra shuddered, “The time you lost half your teeth? Don’t remind me…”

Dechaa cringed at the memory; the hoofful of times they’d fixed Essenta’s face were not the best of her memories.

So, the six mares sat down to lunch. The stew was good and the scones delicious. They told Wilka of their adventures thus far. Wilka was at once excited and aghast at some of the things they’d done and seen. But she had one burning question above all. It was something Ama and Loress had asked.

“Essenta,” the princess had insisted Wilka call her by name. “What’s your plan?”

Essenta’s answer had changed just a bit each time she was asked, “I’m going to prove my father wrong. We’ll achieve a name for ourselves, whether the Dragon Lance exists or not… And we’re sure to run into some more interesting things along the way.”

Wilka, from the bottom of her heart, smiled, “I’d like to come along with you if the offer stands. I'm tired of playing soldier in the woods.”

The others patted her back, welcoming her to their little company. But Wilka wasn’t done.

“I don’t know if she’d really want to come along, but I have a friend in Renata. I… think you should meet her.”

The other mares were at attention. It was apparent Wilka wasn’t joking around.

Essenta looked up from the last bite of her scone; a friend of Wilka’s must have been something, “What kind of mare is she?”

Wilka said evenly, “Orni’s a Knollwing.”

Author's Note

Check out the Appendix for Princess Essenta, updated as the story moves along. It shows the story's timeline and character designs. Contains spoilers.

It looks like the company picked up another one. A little, pink Pegasus that can set her own broken bones should be interesting to have around.

Next time, Essenta and the girls meet Orni. What kind of mare is the Knollwing?

If you enjoy Princess Essenta, please take a look at my other story, Larkspur Blossom, if you haven't.

Watch for the next chapter in the coming week.

Thanks for reading, and take care.

Chapter 11: The Fallen Knollwing

Renata Arc

Wilka’s cottage was up ahead. They’d walked a few miles, with their new companion, and they company found itself in a little grove of forest. Through the trees, they could make out the town of Renata.

Turning back to Essenta, Wilka grinned, “You said you kept a workshop, Essenta. I’m something of an inventor myself. Those cesti sure are cool. And your armor’s pretty sweet, too.”

Essenta blushed, just a little, “Thanks. The cesti wouldn’t be a thing without magic, but I’m quite proud of the armor I made for Dechaa and myself… and Zyra’s pocket wand. I was so scared that thing would just blow up on her.”

Zyra laughed, “Well, Cap, it didn’t. And it sure makes a nice pop!”

They arrived at the little cottage. Wilka pointed to a shed in the yard.

“That’s my workshop, Essenta. I’ll show you later. Everypony… you can leave your supplies in here for now.”

They unloaded their supplies and Loress pulled the wagon around back. Entering the little cottage, Ama’s immediate belief was realized; it was the reason she asked Wilka to be their friend and comrade. The others picked up on it quickly.

Wilka lived alone. It was a primitive, somewhat secluded life. There was no joy in the place. A 16-year-old mare living alone in the world wasn’t unheard of, but it was rather sad. Wilka rebuffed all questions of family. All she had, apparently, were her skills and this friend she’d mentioned.

Loress, however, admired the little house, “Wilka… did you build this place yourself?”

Wilka smiled shyly, “Yes. I had some help shaping the logs from a carpenter, but I built it.”

It was impressive to Loress, “It’s solid. I bet you’ve never seen a leak.”

“It doesn’t rain all that much… I built it to stay warm in the winter and cool in the summer. Check out the floor.”

Loress guessed what she was looking for was under the rug. Moving it, she found the floor was… cold. There was a hatch, which she opened. The blast of cool air surprised her. There was a column dug under the house. It went down farther than the light shined.

Wilka chuckled, “Geothermal conditioning. It’s always comfortable in here. I just seal it up come cold weather and use my wood stove. The mud insulation really helps.”

The company was impressed. It shouldn’t have surprised them Loress could recognize good craft. She’d mentioned working with a mason and a builder in her travels, when she needed money. The rest of them knew squat about building things.

Once they’d squared away their gear, the company followed their new eccentric into town. As the trees thinned out, it was clear harvest wasn’t far away. Ponies were prepping their tools, implements, and readying their storage.

In town, Wilka received many greetings, which she returned cheerfully. She was a townspony here, even if she did live in the woods. But it was unusual to see five mares following her. It was obvious they weren’t ordinary travelers.

“Good afternoon, Wilka!” a stallion carrying a rake over his shoulder called. “Who’re your friends?”

She beamed back, “’Afternoon, Sly! They’re from up north. We’re on our way to see Orni.”

“Tell her I said hello.”

“Will do.”

The company looked around. It was a lovely little town. They may have come just to come if they’d known it was so pleasant. It looked like a gingerbread village and they could even smell gingerbread coming from the bakery. It was Essenta’s favorite, and she determined to stop by later.

Moving through town, they approached the edge of it. Wilka pointed to a little stead up ahead.

“There it is, girls… Farmer Valli’s farm. They grow a few things, but it’s mostly dairy… some wool. Orni lives there.”

Wilka stopped a moment, turning back to the rest, “I… need to tell you something about Orni. I couldn’t think of a way to say it, but… I don’t want anypony to be surprised…”

This was strange. The company considered Wilka.

“Orni is a Knollwing… She’s my age, maybe a couple weeks younger… She… can’t fly, though. She… lost her wings.”

The girls cringed. It was hard to imagine a Pegasus, much less a Knollwing, losing her wings. They wanted to know more, but it was obvious Wilka didn’t want to say, or knew how to say, any more on the matter.

Wilka hoofed the dirt road, “Just warning you… But don’t worry. You’ll love her!”

They weren’t worried. Still, Essenta was glad to know this going in. It would avoid anypony staring. Also, she was confident Dechaa couldn’t handle the surprise of seeing any more hurt ponies that day… She wasn’t sure of herself, even, no matter how old said injury was.

They found Orni at the stable. Approaching, there was the young mare, not much taller than Wilka, but built like a fireplug. Her mane was something of a mustard color, with an indescribable bluish-green coat. She had on a simple dress, and they did see what was left of her wings. Two joints, almost resembling the horns of a collar, protruded through two openings sewn into her dress near the shoulder. Other than that, she appeared a sturdy, little Earth pony mare. She was speaking to and fussing over what looked a late spring lamb.

Wilka, a huge smile on her face, as if she hadn’t seen her friend in years, spoke, “Hey, Orni.”

Orni turned their way, pulling the lamb with her. She wanted to keep hooves on the little rascal. Essenta sure felt plain next to this one… Orni was exceptionally attractive, in her way. She lacked the regal quality Loress exuded but had a very simple beauty about her. She smiled at Wilka, a joy like the expression Wilka had shown upon approach.

“Hello, Wilka.”

She let go of the lamb and embraced Wilka enthusiastically. The lamb bleated and began to scurry away. The two mares let up their embrace and stared after the escaped sheep.

“Orni, that little one giving you trouble again?”

Orni stared after it, “Yeah… she’s been moving a lot better, though.”

Essenta wouldn’t have believed it if she hadn’t seen it, but she saw it… so did the rest of them. The little lamb was already a distance away, but Orni ran after it. In a literal flash, she’d caught the little one and was already on her way back, nudging it along.

Their collective jaws dropped, other than Wilka, looking most pleased with herself. Orni was faster than Loress.

Orni tied the lamb to a post, “Now stay.”

Essenta wasn’t terribly perceptive, but it was clear even to her: Orni was a very special mare. Her green eyes betrayed a poise she’d never seen, other than in some of the seasoned warriors back home. Yet she had a gentleness about her, not as Dechaa did, but… different. Aware she was gawking, she tried to play it cool as Wilka brought her friend to them.

Essenta’s company had explained the potential importance about keeping quiet regarding who and what Essenta was. She didn’t let them down. They’d been able to trust Wilka, upon Ama’s judgement. Loress had impressed them enough for Essenta to reveal herself. Ama, on the other hoof, had Essenta nearly soiling her tunic; it was the only discernible reason she’d told the Mazan who she was. But, they decided to meet Orni and talk with her before unmasking themselves, or their leader.

Wilka introduced them, “Orni, this is Essenta (the name wasn’t unheard of anywhere in the known world). She and her friends came from up north.”

Orni grinned shyly, “Hello, Princess… Uh, which of you is Dechaa? Or Zyra? I know you’re both unicorns…”

Essenta and her crew jumped. What?!

Wilka laughed long and hard, while Orni looked uncomfortable, “I… I… wasn’t sure if she’d heard of you, but I should’ve guessed she might! As famous as you apparently are, it doesn’t surprise me she knows!”

Essenta was still worried. Anypony “knowing of” her didn’t mean much… What mattered was if they knew she was still on the run from the Dale, with a possible few thousand gold pieces on her hide, or if they’d bought the horse pucky about some princess taking a couple unicorns on a suicide mission.

But if she’d referred to them with such affection… maybe she wasn’t about to collect.

Essenta decided to trust her, “Yes… I’m Essenta, Princess of the Dale. These are my friends… Dechaa Beiran and Zyra Argon.”

Upon pointing to the unicorns, she continued, “This is Ama, of the clan Waterfall and Loress Claystable of Terrow. It’s good to meet you, Orni.”

Orni shined, “Wow… We’d heard you were on your mission, but nopony had any idea where you were… I’m sure you want to travel quietly, so don’t worry. Your secret’s safe if you want it to be… Still… everypony in town has heard of you. There may be no hiding it.”

Essenta nodded. At least they were… probably safe for the moment.

Orni cleared her throat, “Please allow me to introduce myself. I’m Orni Valkea. As you see… I don’t really belong here, but we can talk about that later.”

Ama was charmed by the Knollwing, and she approached to shake hooves, “Greetings, Orni Valkea. I suppose Essenta did introduce me but allow me the pleasure. I am Ama Waterfall. Please call me Ama.”

Orni shook hooves, “Wow… I’ve never met a Terran before…”

Ama laughed first, followed by the rest, “Oh, Orni… I am a Mazan. My father was a Terran. But Loress there, is a Terran.”

Orni was wowed, but apologetic, “Sorry, Ama. I… shouldn’t have just guessed. But a Terran? Wow…”

Orni practically stared at Loress, who became uncomfortable, “You’re beautiful, Loress…”

Loress hoofed the ground, blushing profusely, “…”

Orni turned back to Ama, “Uh, excuse me… Did you call the princess… by her given name?”

Ama chuckled, “She insists upon it. Her oldest friends have nicknames for her, but Wilka and I are certainly content to call her Essenta. Loress, on the other hand, calls her by title. It is… her way of having fun with the princess.”

Essenta walked up to Orni, “I really would like you to call me by name, if you like…”

Orni gushed, “Cool… Okay, Essenta.”

It was clear to Orni she was facing no ordinary group of mares, “Uh, Wilka? Don’t tell me they’re all here for the…”

Wilka waved a hoof, “No… I haven’t even told them about it, yet.”

Pointing to Orni as if she was presenting the company with a swell gift, “Girls… Orni’s a champion sparrer. We have grounds set up on the edge of town. Most weekends, warriors from far and wide come to take a crack at her! She’s never lost.”

Essenta, having seen much on the trip already, reserved judgment. If Wilka said the little Knollwing could fight, it was truth as far as she was concerned. Orni blushed, trying to disappear, apparently.

“Wilka… you’ve come close… maybe twice.”

That sealed it. The company was definitely interested in getting to know Orni. But Wilka had said Orni may not be interested in coming along with them. Orni said she didn’t belong there, and it was a safe assumption she just lived there or was adopted.

Wilka prodded her friend, “So, is Linus around? I was hoping he could meet the girls.”

Orni shook her head, “No, he’s at the market. But he should be back soon. I don’t think he’d object to you showing Essenta and her friends around.”

Orni turned to Essenta, “It’s been nice to meet you. I suppose I’ll see you all later. I have a few chores to tend to.”

With that, the Knollwing paddled away. Wilka looked after her affectionately.

“That little lamb was a runt born late in the spring. Her mother died, but Orni took care of her. For a while, it didn’t look like she’d live. Her mother had been so sick. But I’m glad she’s better now… You should see Orni shear a sheep! It’s quite a sight!”

Sure, they were interested in Orni’s apparent affinity for animals, but they had their minds on the fact she was fast and apparently a skilled fighter.

Essenta couldn’t help herself, “How does somepony like her show up in a place like this?”

Wilka sighed, “It’s a long story. Maybe you’ll hear it from her… or somepony… I… don’t want to talk about it…”

That closed that subject for a time, but there were other things to discuss. Loress, quite knowledgeable about many things, addressed Wilka.

“Wilka… Orni seems… quite strong. I’ve met quite a few Knollwings, but only one that had… their magic. Does Orni…?”

Essenta and the girls knew what Loress was referring to. Over the last few centuries, the Knollwing magic had been failing them. It was seemingly “drying up” in the mountains they called home. Most Knollwings were more or less normal Pegasi. They were a little sturdier, maybe a little stronger, but they were no longer to Pegasi what Terrans were to normal Earth ponies.

Wilka, taking on an air of great honor, gleamed, “She has the magic… and more.”

Loress looked back in wonder. It was a childlike wonder none of them had seen in her before. Essenta was even more curious, as were the others, but Wilka ushered them along.

“Let’s talk about that later. Let me show you the farm.”

It was a nice little farm, functional, and large enough for the town. Wilka, perhaps taking more liberty than she should have, had the girls try out the cheeses Farmer Valli made. It was good. After a bit, the company saw an Earth pony trot up the road.

“Ah, Wilka! A few guests? I hope you didn’t feed them all my fresh cheese! It has to cure… and some of it was a special order.”

Wilka waved a hoof, “Don’t worry Linus. How long have I been hanging around here?”

Farmer Valli smirked, “Two years… ever since you came to town and started corrupting our Orni…”

Wilka cackled at this, “Don’t be that way! I didn’t teach her anything about fighting she didn’t already know. I just… sparred with her.”

“And that’s how our little town turned into the circus we see every weekend. But we do sell an awful lot of booze… and the cheese flies out of my larder, so I tolerate it. I just wish all the visitors would piss off and not wreck up the town Saturday night.”

Farmer Valli turned to Essenta’s company, “Who’re you? Don’t tell me all five of you are taking a crack at my daughter Saturday.”

Daughter… So Orni had been adopted into the family.

Essenta, knowing it was best not to keep it secret, and trusting Farmer Valli wouldn’t kill them in their sleep, “Hello, Farmer Valli. I’m Princess Essenta Dale and these are my friends.”

His face lit up, “P-p-p-p-princess?! You’re Princess Essenta?!”

She smiled back, “I am.”

He shook her hoof, “I’m so glad to meet you. We’ve been hearing about you for weeks, but nopony seemed to know where you might be. Just our luck you show up in our neck of the woods. What brings you to Renata?”

“Not the carnival you speak of. We were just traveling along the road and met Wilka. We sparred a little and had lunch. She… wanted us to meet Orni.”

The company did a take, “sparred a little”? Essenta and Wilka beat the shit out of each other… almost literally. They could still see the bruises, despite Dechaa’s magic touch!

Farmer Valli’s face fell, “Oh… Well, I suppose we have much to talk about, then.”

Essenta was disheartened by his conduct, “Oh, sir! I didn’t come here to try to take her away or anything! Wilka… just mentioned her and we thought we’d meet her. I’m sorry if I offended you.”

He smiled, from the heart, “Oh, Princess… it’s quite alright. I’m just… tired of all these lowlifes coming around to pull Orni away on some silly trip. Orni, I know, loves it here. It’d take a lot to drag her away. I know you’ve no ill intentions. Please… you and your friends should dine with us tonight… you too, I guess, Wilka…”

Essenta grinned, “That would be nice.”

“Got a place to stay?”

She nodded, “We left our supplies at Wilka’s cottage, so-”

He waved a hoof, “I insist you stay here. With all the visitors we get in town, I have a little bunkhouse out back. It’s big enough for all of you and your gear.”

Wilka rubbed her hooves together, “I knew I could count on you, Linus.”

Zyra shook with laughter, “Seems this was her game from the start. We would’ve wound up sleeping outside, some of us…”

Farmer Valli nodded, half-amused with Wilka’s scheming, “You and your friends are most welcome, Princess. Go retrieve your gear. Once you’re settled in, we can get dinner started. You all could even help.”

A couple hours later, Essenta was rooting through her bag, “Loress… I feel like a bit of an ass, here. I mean… we show up like it’s nothing, thinking we could take away some farmgirl from her family?”

Loress sat on the bunk below Essenta, “Don’t worry about it too much, Princess… We couldn’t have known… We just followed Wilka.

Dechaa was lying on the floor, hoping to catch a short doze, “So, what are we gonna do, Sen? I mean… it’s not like we have some schedule to keep, but I sure didn’t expect us to hole up here… The bed and roof will be nice, but…”

Essenta found the wrench she’d lost in the bottom of her bag, “Hafta check the wheel… I dunno, Dechaa. Things haven’t been bad for us the last few days, but we could use a nice rest.”

As if in reply, snores blasted from the other side of the bunkhouse; Zyra and Ama were conked out, taking full advantage of the pleasant afternoon heat for a snooze.

Loress glared at her, “You just want to get drunk a few nights, don’t you?”

Essenta rocked with laughter, despite Loress being half-serious, “I do want to… But that’s not why I decided to stop us here a couple days. I… kinda wanna stick around for the sparring matches this weekend.”

Dechaa hoofed Essenta’s leg, dangling from the top bunk, “You said we’d stay a couple days… Today’s Tuesday! Do you really plan for us to stay the rest of the week?”

Essenta dismissed her concerns, “What? Do you really want to continue our little errand without a few days of R&R? You said it yourself… bed and roof…”

Deciding it wasn’t worth the time getting in a pissing contest with their friend, Dechaa and Loress got up and went outside. Essenta followed them a moment later, leaving the other two to rest. She’d rouse them for dinner.

As they all gathered around the large table in the Valli house, the company learned a few things about Orni. Close to 17, she was the oldest child in the house, with four younger brothers and sisters. The next oldest was a colt of 11, so she was definitely the big sister. The entire family were Earth ponies. Mrs. Valli, appearing to love Wilka as much as any of her own children, welcomed Essenta and company as friends of hers.

It was quite a spread. Loress helped with cooking and had a large carrot cake baking for dessert. Mrs. Valli and her family were charmed by the flappable Terran, who put up with much curiosity and pestering from the little foals. For all the ponies that came through town, whether on business or to get their asses kicked by Orni, a Terran had never visited. As the company had learned, Loress was the oldest of many siblings, so she was used to foals hanging on her.

Ama was also something of a novelty to the children, as she had been during their walk through the town. With the exception of a single stallion living in Renata, she was about the tallest pony they’d ever seen. Ama grinned and beared it, but she was a little less at home with so many little ones. Certainly, fillies back home hounded her, but they’d been afraid of her… too afraid to be friendly.

Other than the freshness of having a princess at the table, there was little else new to the family or the town’s residents. So, they dined, chatted, and enjoyed themselves.

Despite Essenta’s reluctance she did, Wilka made it known she was leaving along with the company to join them on their quest. She also heavily implied Orni should consider joining them. Orni stared down at the chunk of carrot cake before her. She didn’t have much to say.

The family was quiet as well. The foals didn’t like the idea of their friend Wilka leaving. They were too young to understand what was written between the lines. Orni’s parents surely saw it.

His hoof on his wife’s, Farmer Valli addressed both Wilka and Orni, “You girls should do what you like. It’s a big world out there… You may as well see it when you’re young.”

Wilka sat, poker-faced, but Orni only looked more sadly at her dessert. Dechaa, possibly the most preceptive of the company, decided to move away from that.

“Do you want to hear about our trip through the Forbidden Forest?”

The foals definitely wanted to hear this. The company took turns, leaving out some of the more graphic elements, such as Dechaa having the shit scared out of her or just how they came to meet Ama. Zyra, having a flare for storytelling, thrilled the room with their close encounter with Timberwolves and what must have been a dragon.

As they finished up, Farmer Valli told the girls, “You picked a fine day to arrive. Every year we celebrate the coming harvest with a big dance in town. Lots of food… lots of booze… Orni! You and Wilka show your new friends a good time!”

This was welcome news. Essenta’s liver was ready for a little abuse and the rest of the girls could stand a drink as well.

Loress insisted, “Oh, let me help you clean up!”

Mrs. Valli patted Loress’s hoof, “Oh, it’s quite alright, dear. You were such a help this evening and the cake was delicious. Please, go enjoy yourself.”

Needing little other encouragement, Essenta put Loress in a headlock, as if she’d be able to do so if Loress didn’t let it happen and led the company out the front gate. They certainly were a lively bunch of young mares, in the eyes of the farmer and his wife. Wilka had a hoof over Orni, pulling her along.

Mrs. Valli told the remaining four children to start clearing the table. They did so. She looked sadly to her husband.

“Linus… Do you really think it’s time our Orni set out? She’s… still so attached to this place…”

He hugged her, “I’m beginning to think so, Polyxena… I don’t believe in destiny or fate, you know I never have, but she can’t spend her life on a dairy farm. There’s a lot more for her out there. We both know that… I’ll have a talk with the princess… and maybe the Terran… they seem to be the ones in charge.”

They looked forlornly after the seven mares. It was possible their family would be short a young mare at the end of the week…

In town, many ponies were assembled in the town hall. Everypony figured Essenta and her friends were just visitors wishing to spar with Orni. They were content to keep things that way. It was bad enough the farmer and his whole family knew who they were.

Any talk Farmer Valli wished to have with the princess would have to wait for at least 16 hours. She was plastered, hoof-wrestling some of the young stallions in town. Laughing uproariously, she dragged them over the table, one-by-one. Ama, drinking ale by the half-gallon and not even feeling it, laughed at the princess’s antics.

Loress sat with Dechaa at the bar. She was having a nice cider, for the taste, not the alcohol. Unless she put alcohol directly into her bloodstream, it was physically impossible for her to get drunk. She eyed Essenta with distaste, turning to Dechaa, nursing a cocktail.

“Dechaa… I’m beginning to wonder if the princess has a problem.”

Dechaa shifted in her seat, “…”

Loress grumbled, “Whatever… if she gets out of hoof, it’s an easy thing to drag her off…”

The both of them espied Zyra, doing magic tricks for a bunch of foals in the corner. She was certainly enjoying herself. Wilka and Orni were sitting alongside the dance floor, politely, yet firmly shooting down the numerous drunk stallions asking them for a dance.

Dechaa couldn’t blame them. She didn’t like dancing much. She was also "traumatized" from the many bad encounters Essenta had gotten them into. She would never forget the time a prince had felt her up when she was trying to visit the powder room… in the Greendale castle… Loress wasn’t much better… she squealed like a little filly whenever Zyra joked about her rump…

They noticed Wilka and Orni made their way over to the magic show. It was unlikely they’d be hit on there. Perhaps they’d be targeted… Two very above average looking mares alone at the bar? They were ripe for picking as far as most ponies were concerned. But they turned their attention to other things.

“Dechaa, I know Wilka’s ready to come along with us, but what about Orni? Something… just seems wrong.”

Dechaa called for a second cocktail, “I’m really not sure what Sen is thinking. I’m just worried about staying in town too long, especially if we have nothing to show for it. The ponies here know of us, at least. It’s only a matter of time somepony figures out who we are. And I don’t trust for a minute somepony wouldn’t love a crack at whatever our bounty is…”

“Ama mentioned to me the princess did have a bounty on her… from her father… It must hurt knowing your own father would do such a thing…”

Dechaa sipped on her fresh tonic, “Well, it’s not just her… Anypony after her knows about the two unicorns she dragged along for the ride. I have no idea what King Dale is offering, but it’s probably a lot.”

Loress covered up a tiny burp, “Best we lay low then… As long as the farmer’s family doesn’t slip who we are… and none of us are foolish enough… we may be safe. Still…”

They cast their gaze once again to the princess. She had ahold of an entire cask of ale. She was attempting to pull the tap out of the barrel. Dechaa recalled the last time she had that much ale. She stood up, quickly downing the last of her drink.

“Okay, Loress… let’s get our brave leader out of here. I’ll go tell Zyra we’re heading back.”

Loress sucked down the last of her cider and went for Essenta. They weren’t worried about Ama and the rest. They’d take care of themselves. Wrangling Essenta was a bit of a hassle, but with Dechaa able to catch her in a forcefield, Loress was able to drape her over her back.

Essenta, having clocked out when she gave up resisting, snored from Loress’s back. Dechaa looked concerned, but Loress looked positively afraid.

“Oh, please don’t get sick!” the Terran fretted. “I really can’t deal with that…”

Dechaa shook her head. She still wasn’t ready to say Essenta had a problem. She didn’t do this often enough for to be a problem… right?

But they made it back with no incident. For the very slight inconvenience of carrying the princess, Loress tossed her unceremoniously onto a lower bunk.

“Heh, heh, heh… I see Princess Essenta had a little too much fun.”

The two mares turned. It was Farmer Valli.

“I don’t mean to bother you. I just thought I’d see if you all had a good time.”

Loress and Dechaa were known to have less of a good time than the others. They were the responsible ones, apparently. Whether they enjoyed this or not, it seemed their function.

Loress gave an uneasy hum, “Well… everypony else is having a good time. It’s hard sometimes… to enjoy myself having to foalsit a princess.”

Farmer Valli chuckled, “I suppose as a Terran, you don’t even know what impairment feels like.”

Loress smiled at this, “You got me there… you’d have more luck shoveling mud with a pitchfork than getting me sloshed.”

He considered the unicorn, “You have a nice time, miss?”

Dechaa fidgeted, “Let’s just say I’ve gotten into more trouble with Sen than I enjoy putting up with… Guess I’m in Loress’s boat as far as fun.”

“Well, I’m sorry your night was cut short… but I wanted to talk with both of you. I figured Dechaa, you and the princess would be out of sorts, and I’d just have Loress to speak with… But since you’re both thriving this evening, could I have some of your time? You can tell the princess and the others later.”

Loress expected somepony to talk with them, assuredly about Orni, but didn’t expect it so soon.

Dechaa tilted her head, “Why us? Shouldn’t we wait… and include Sen?”

Farmer Valli gave her a very warm look, “The princess relies on the two of you more than you may realize. I suppose, I could say, the two of you are the pillars of this little company. You’re the heart and soul! And I’m guessing one of you is her righthoof mare.”

This flummoxed the girls; there’d been no talk of who was Essenta’s second. But… it must have been one of them. Who else could it be?!

Dechaa looked with concern at the sodden princess, “I guess we could talk, but…”

“Don’t concern yourself with her. My wife’s coming out to keep an eye on her. Please… come to the barn with me. As you may have guessed, I need to tell you about Orni. Please…”

Somewhat reluctantly, the two followed the farmer out to the barn. It was early yet… and it would be some time before the others made their way back. They’d be able to talk openly, and without interruption. As the farmer had said: Essenta relied on them more than anypony else. They were… her counsel. And they were likely the ones best able to process what they were about to hear.

Author's Note

Check out the Appendix for Princess Essenta, updated as the story moves along. It shows the story's timeline and character designs. Contains spoilers.

Essenta's closest confidants are about to learn of Orni. What misfortune befell the little Knollwing, leaving her crippled and so far away from her fellows?

Next time, Orni's past is revealed and the company decides to stick around for the weekend fights... as participants. But first, Essenta has to deal with a few personal matters.

I'm trying to get ahead of my writing, so I can release six chapters or so a month. Allows for more thinking. I have the grand scheme of Princess Essenta, but fleshing out some areas I'd initially decided to skimp on takes time.

If you enjoy Princess Essenta, please take a look at my other major story, Larkspur Blossom, if you haven't.

Also, I've just released a new shorter story, The Virgin Company, telling the tale of a Pegasus lieutenant who wound up facing an army with his unblooded platoon. I hope to put out a few chapters a month for that one.

Thanks for reading, and take care.

Chapter 12: Clarity

Renata Arc

Orni Valkea’s story, as far as Renata knew, began about nine years previously. The Knollwings, to some degree, had become nomadic ponies. In search of new magic and new opportunities, they struck out into the further reaches of the continent. Away from the eastern mountains from which they historically drew their magic, there had to be another source.

Orni was traveling with her father, mother, and siblings. They were in a group of about 60 ponies. Doing what they could to make ends meet, they eked their way west. Camping near Renata, but not visiting, they were attacked by slavers. With few exceptions, Knollwings had lost their great power but still commanded high prices… far more so than a regular Pegasus.

Separated from her family, the terrified Orni watched as her fellow Knollwings were captured. She’d almost escaped, when she was shot from the sky. She survived the crash, but her wings were in pieces. Staring down at the screaming little Knollwing, her green eyes pleading for some form of mercy, the slavers left her. A crippled Knollwing was good for nothing, anyway. With a few captured, they’d be rich anyway.

The little filly lay there, exposed for a couple days, too hurt to move. Even her voice had dried up. All she wished for was some release. She no longer thought of her mother… father… siblings… friends… Orni just wanted release.

It so happened, when the farmer called Linus Valli and his wife, Polyxena, heavily pregnant with their second foal, were out picking fruit, that they came across this little one. Shocked at what they found, but unwilling to leave her, they fashioned a stretcher, and with the utmost care, spirited her into Renata.

Upon seeing the extent of her injuries, and the necrosis endured, the kindly old village doctor thought she might be done for. But he’d dealt with some of the worst injuries imaginable; he’d been a surgeon in the army. He quickly realized, after a careful look, that this was a Knollwing. If any Pegasus could make it through, it was a Knollwing.

Hating himself for it, but finding little choice in the matter, he had to remove what was left of her wings. He knew little of Pegasus anatomy, but he was able to clean up her injuries to the first wing joints right off the shoulders. Otherwise, her durable body and constitution had kept her alive when others would have died. So, he kept her hydrated and waited.

It took the little one a couple days to come around. Confused and surprised at being alive, she quickly regained her wits. Realizing what had become of her, she was beyond devastated. The old surgeon could think of nothing to do for her. He didn’t speak her language and would have been unable to find the words to console her, anyway.

But a pair of ponies had been watching with great interest. Polyxena had rarely left the Knollwing’s side as she slept. It was a mother’s touch that comforted the broken filly. Nopony had known Knollwings had been through the area, until what remained of the camp was discovered. There was no sign of them. And no way to know where they might have gone. The little Knollwing was alone in the world.

That is, she might have been.

The farmer Valli and his wife elected to adopt her. The first thing they learned was her name. Orni Valkea… “Orni the White”… With her tattered wings, it hadn’t been evident at first, but Orni possessed a feature most rare among her ponies. She had wings of white.

A distinctive feature of Knollwings were their wings, usually brown or gray, contrasted with whatever color coat they may have possessed. It was perhaps the reason they were so hunted. And seeing a prize like Orni fall through their hooves, the slavers simply left her to suffer for their “trouble”.

Despite her obvious sadness, she grew to love her new family. She adored their little colt and insisted on feeding him. Regardless of their inability to speak or understand Knolltongue, it was obvious their ward missed… her younger siblings.

One of the first things she did when she was active again, was seek out the stallions that found the campsite. They’d collected food, a few weapons… But what Orni wanted were the books and scrolls. Unable to read them, the stallions had stacked them up. So, Orni saved the material from some trash bin and took it home.

Orni was seven, close to eight, they figured out. They began to suspect Orni was no ordinary Knollwing within a few weeks. She picked up the Common Tongue in a month. Soon after, she was able to tell them about herself in words. After two months, she could read and write in the language. Her strength, quickly recovered, on top of her speed, set her apart from anything they knew of the Knollwings.

It may have been difficult to believe she would fit in with the other foals in town, but after the rocky start she had, she became just another one of the neighborhood foals. She read her own material and discovered new things in her new language. She began to train in the ways of her ponies, aided by the texts she had rescued.

The years passed, with Orni gaining three more siblings. Despite not being their sister, she was their big sister. It became hard to imagine life, for anypony, without Orni around. She was as much a fixture in the town as the dairy farm on which she flourished.

When Orni was 14, she’d become quite a young beauty. A reserved filly, she was a friend to all. Around this time, Wilka Starling arrived. Nopony knew who she was or from where she came, but she settled outside of town, building her little nook in the forest. The two young mares became the very best of friends, in large because of their skill in martial arts. The matches witnessed by other ponies led to a fame that became the Saturday ass-kicking destination for so many. Orni and Wilka enjoyed it, so why not?

Also, Orni was probably the only pony on Earth Wilka had trusted with her own sad life. They formed a bond beyond that normally seen. But Wilka was the pioneering sort, hoping to set out into the world again. And she wanted nothing more than Orni to come along. The two of them toyed with the notion, but never did much with it.

Orni felt she was where she belonged, even if she was a Knollwing. Wilka resigned herself to living in the woods, biding her time until something interesting came along.

And this had brought them to the last couple of days.

Loress whistled. That was some story. Dechaa felt rather touched as well.

Farmer Valli shifted himself and sighed, “So you see, girls… the idea of Orni leaving is a couple years in the works. My wife and I… the rest of our children… and the town… we all love our Orni. But there’s more out there for her. And I’d like nothing more than for her to have a chance to see it… if she’s so inclined.”

Loress couldn’t withhold something, “Sir, there’s something you should know… Our little quest you’ve heard of… it’s… something of a farce.”

Dechaa muttered, “Loress…”

“Dechaa, it’s the truth! Sir, the princess’s father never really intended to send her anywhere… or the unicorns. It was a ploy…”

He sat nonplussed, “I don’t like the sound of this… explain.”

Dechaa sighed, “King Dale was tired of Sen causing him trouble, so after she… acted up, he thought he’d… ‘scare her straight’ so he could send her away in exchange for a dowry. It’s what we’ve been calling a ‘fool’s errand’. We’ve… been on the run coming up on a month.”

He frowned, “Well, what’s she doing all this for?”

Neither mare could answer. Loress shook her head.

“We… really have no idea. It changes everytime somepony asks her. She says she wants to… ‘turn the world upside down’ and ‘achieve fame not even her father can smother’… Saying it out loud, it sounds…”

Dechaa leaned against a hay bale, “Batshit crazy…”

Loress nodded, “Yeah… something along those lines. I know you want Orni to step out, but… there might be nothing good at the end of this rainbow.”

He raised an eyebrow, “Why did you follow her? Why did any of you follow her?”

This was even harder to answer. Why did they follow the princess? They had answers as they were sure the rest did. To them… they sounded… a little pathetic.

Loress fidgeted, “I… wanted friends. I’ve… never really had any and the princess offered… so did the other girls. I’ve only been with them a week, but it’s been so much fun.”

She was embarrassed to admit it, but she’d said it. Dechaa felt her reason was even more pitiful.

“Sen and I have been friends since we were little fillies. I… guess I’ve just followed her as long as I’ve known her. One afternoon we were at her favorite pub, and an hour later we were running as fast as we could for the Dale’s border… And after we got away… I knew I couldn’t just go back… none of us can just go back. I know what’s waiting for us if we go back… or get captured.”

The farmer listened to these reasons without any visible emotion, “I don’t think you’re telling me the whole story. I can see, just from the few hours I’ve known all of you, that all of you seek camaraderie. But none of you are stupid, I can tell. Something else swayed your choice to go along… or at the very least stay.”

They looked back, unsure where this was going.

“You girls give yourselves too little credit. What really attracted you to Princess Essenta?”

Dechaa couldn’t find the words. She’d known Essenta for a long time. The same thing that pulled any of them in had kept her around, but it wasn’t something she could communicate. Loress could. And she had some rare language to make her point.

“…As crazy as this… fool’s errand is… something deep down told me… to follow her… Something told me she could do it. It’s hard to fathom, seeing her shit-the-bed drunk like she gets, but… sometimes… I can see a sureness. I can see a clarity… a faith that she can change the world. But… I’m not so sure, sometimes.”

She gazed into space almost dreamily. The farmer chuckled, and she caught herself. Even Dechaa thought that was weird… the kind of weird that has a pony create distance from another.

Loress blushed, “I… guess that sounds pretty stupid… The princess is my friend… but it wasn’t just that!”

He laughed openly, “Charisma… It’s always questionable. There’s no telling where it’ll wind you all up. That crap about the rainbow makes a little more sense now…”

He stood up, “I’m sorry to pester you about such things… We don’t always know what drives us. Sometimes it just doesn’t make sense. Don’t concern yourself over any of that. You’re my guests and you’re welcome to stay for the weekend. Do tell the princess and the other girls what you see fit to tell them. I really should just keep my mouth shut, but… I doubt Orni or Wilka would have told you much. If you haven’t seen it… they’re rather close… Well, good night, young mares.”

He left them and they themselves went to sit outside the bunkhouse for a time. They could hear Essenta snoring and fussing in her stupor. Farmer Valli had given them plenty to think about.

Despite a hangover the size of the moon, Essenta was up before daybreak, helping Orni with her chores. Loress and the rest of the company who hadn’t known her for very long had heard of her industriousness but couldn’t believe it.

Dechaa looked on in mild disbelief, “This is normal for her… She doesn’t go that hard often, but a rough bar night never stopped her from working back home…”

The others could only nod. Once the morning chores were done, Essenta and Orni went into town to make some deliveries. Loress helped make breakfast and was still finding hard to buy how energetic the princess was. The company worked some that day, Essenta especially.

That night was even worse than the one before. Not only had Essenta made an absolute ass of herself, she even tried to start a fight with somepony that wouldn’t stop hitting on Dechaa.

A very drunk Pegasus stallion was holding onto Dechaa’s neck, begging for a dance… and maybe something else. Dechaa tried to just walk away but he got angry about it. Before things could go any further, Essenta grabbed him and threw him halfway across the pub. All became silent.

Essenta ambled up to him, eyes reflecting possible homicidal intent, “You motherfucker…”

The stallion, seeing the trouble he’d invited, wanted no part, but Essenta still went for him. When Loress tried to pull Essenta from this mischief, she took a swing at Loress. This shocked the pubgoers and the company as well. Loress grabbed her and set her straight ahead.

Essenta… didn’t look good. It wasn’t clear until she threw up on Loress. The Terran, looking furious now, roughly dragged her out, uncaring of the scene it made. The girls followed worriedly.

She was quite upset about all this and the company, who’d had their own fun, to a lesser degree, tried to talk Loress down. But Loress made up her mind about something… And in a pig’s ass would anypony be able to stop her. Loress was so upset, she went to sleep in the wagon. The girls went to sleep, thinking the trouble had diffused.

It was a few minutes past dawn on Thursday. Essenta, drooling into her pillow, stinking of the night before, slept contentedly. The birds were chirping, and the company was having a good snooze. Everypony was asleep, except one.

Loress threw a bucket of ice water at the princess, full in the face. Essenta sat up quickly, with a girlish shriek, bonking her head on the bunk above her. She gazed around, dazed and blinded in a fine shroud of hangover. The rest of the girls woke with a start.

Essenta sputtered, “Wha’ the fuck?! Who-? Lore-!”

The Terran hauled Essenta out of the bed, with very little gentleness. She opened the door and sent the still-drunk mare sprawling across the yard. Orni, out doing her early morning chores, gasped. She was about to move to Essenta when she felt a hoof at her shoulder. It was Farmer Valli. Looking down at the little Knollwing, he shook his head and led her away from the scene. She didn’t need to see this.

Essenta, now filthy from rolling around in the muck, continued to sputter. Before she could even get her wits about her, Loress doused her with another bucket of ice water. Essenta blubbed in the puddle, coughing and spitting. The company gathered at the windows of the bunkhouse, staring. Something told them it would be best to keep out of the way; in fact, they went back to their bunks, deciding not to even watch.

Loress gazed down at Essenta, eying her as if she’d never seen the other mare. Essenta, finally getting her vision straightened out, screamed at Loress.

“Cunting what are you doing?! What the fuck?! You bitch!”

Loress didn’t like that much; she hauled the princess, roughly dragging her across the yard. Out of sight of the bunkhouse, and hopefully anypony else, Loress threw her into a water trough. Essenta spluttered in the container, ass in the air. Loress pulled her out.

“You ready to listen?”

“Fuck you!”

Loress frowned, “Oh… that’s no way to talk to one of your friends, Essenta.”

She shoved the princess’s head into the trough again. She waited a few seconds before pulling her up.

“You ready to calm down yet?”

“You 19-year-old virgin!”

Loress chuckled, in spite of herself, “That hurts, Essenta. And who are you to say such a thing?”

Again, she dunked the princess. This time she held her a little longer. Still the princess screamed and frothed in the water. Loress yanked her out.

“Are you calm?”

“Just because you’re stronger than me-”

Down went the princess, for another drink. This continued for another couple cycles, often with strong language.

“Essenta… calm…”

Essenta was now sobbing, “…Leave me alone!”

Loress decided this wasn’t working. She dunked Essenta once more and then hauling her out, threw her bodily into the yard.

She walked up to Essenta, not enjoying this a bit. Essenta was bawling, coughing, and curled up in a shivering mess. It was a sorry sight. Loress knelt, to raise the princess’s chin to look at her. Essenta, as she had the night before, tried to take a swing. Loress easily caught her hoof and sent the princess end-over-end.

Wilka had been spending the nights back at her own dwelling. She heard noise near the pigsty and went to see. She saw this awful mess and might have opened her mouth if Loress hadn’t glared at her. It was crystal clear what Loress’s eyes said, forget this and move along. She did just that, going to find Orni and Farmer Valli.

Essenta once again lay in the yard; she was absolutely filthy, a mixture of vomit, mud, and straw coating her body. She cried, tucking her legs up to her chest. Loress sat down beside her. The princess was probably ready to hear what had to be said.

“Essenta… listen to me…”

She whimpered, “Please… leave me alone.”

Loress scooted in closer. She put a hoof to Essenta’s back and stroked her. Essenta recoiled at first, but then relaxed some. Still, she wept and was tucked up close to her chest.

The Terran comforted her, until Essenta began to nuzzle in return, “Oh, Loress… I’m… so sorry. I…”

Loress hauled her to a sitting position. Essenta, eyes streaming, looked into Loress’s countenance. She was a little surprised to see her friend crying as well. Loress pulled her into a firm embrace.

“Oh, Princess… I’m worried about you… so are the other girls… I can guess, but it’d do little good. Please tell me what’s wrong.”

The Terran wasn’t sure if she’d get much response or not, but she got an answer.

“Oh, Loress, I’m… I’m a mess. Some stupid, spoiled princess… I don’t even know what I’m doing… I’m taking you all on some joke of a journey… For what? My father, who wishes I’d been born a colt? I don’t… I don’t know… I’m sorry… I… hate m-”

Essenta sobbed brokenly into Loress’s now filthy tunic. She shushed the princess.

“There, there, Essenta… It’s alright.”

Maybe none of this was alright. Loress knew Essenta was confused and upset, but there was a lot to be seen, yet. Deciding she needed to let up on the princess, Loress helped her to her hooves.

“Come with me.” Loress led Essenta to the outdoor bath.

Loress, ready for all the morning might have had to offer, had a warm bath ready for Essenta. After helping her undress, she carefully scrubbed the princess. Her firm, yet gentle touch reminded Essenta of her days back home.

Loress lounged by the bath, Essenta soaking peacefully.

“Loress… I… need your help…”

Loress tried to hold back the crack, but barely managed.

“Not the drinking, Loress… I know I need to… control myself… It’s something else.”

Loress’s interest was piqued, “What?”

“I don’t know what to do about Orni… It… seems so wrong to try to pull her away from all this. Wilka, I’m sure she’d come with us, but… what do you think we should do?”

Loress had been turning this over in her mind for a couple days. Essenta… had never asked any of them for real advice before… Loress was glad the princess had the wisdom to do so.

“Princess… I know what you said to Ama, Wilka, and myself when we each asked you what this all was about. And I believe you. I believe it all. But there’s more to it… isn’t there?”

Essenta splashed around a little, looking into the morning sky, “I… don’t know how to describe it. There’s… something I’m after. I truly don’t know why you all came along for this, when I don’t even know what I’m after.”

Loress gave a little smile, “Someone a little more seasoned than me said we don’t always know what steers us. Sometimes it doesn’t make sense. But don’t worry so much. We’re here because we want to be.”

Essenta sank down lower in the tub, burbling.

Continuing, “As far as Orni goes… what’s your heart tell you? Deep down, what do you think you should do?”

Essenta thought a moment, “I think we should keep moving. And if she wants to come along, I’d love to have her. I don’t really care what she is… she may even be more powerful than you… I want her to be our friend. I want… to be somepony worth being friends with… somepony worth following. I don’t know just what the future holds, but… I want to keep moving, whatever’s waiting for us…”

Loress closed her eyes and smiled from the bottom of her heart, “Yes, Essenta… That’s the princess I decided to follow.”

Essenta finished with her bath and put on a fresh tunic. She wasn’t quite feeling up to breakfast, but Loress gave her a nice mug of juice to sip on. Leaving the princess outside in the fresh breeze, Loress joined the company and the Valli family for breakfast. It was a quiet affair. None of the girls asked any questions about what had happened. They trusted Loress had done what she knew to be right.

The princess spent much of the day, sitting. She gazed out to the fields, watching ponies laugh and work, preparing for what looked like a bountiful harvest. She thought of the Dale. At the higher latitude, they’d be harvesting already. Seeing the land gave her a small yearning and a slight homesickness she hadn’t felt before.

Her mind clearing, she noticed just how lovely Renata was. It seemed a fine place to live.

That night, all the girls went into town again, but not to any pub… Well, Ama did, but nopony worried about her. She’d made some interesting acquaintances and the company was pleased to see her loosen up a bit. There was another dance, but not the wild kind they’d been at two nights previously. Essenta, feeling good, despite her rough morning, sat with Wilka and Orni. Zyra was once again amusing the foals present, with Dechaa and Loress joining in on the fun.

Near the dance floor, Essenta sat by as Wilka rejected yet another stallion asking for a dance. He left in a manner most forlorn. Orni was coming back with fresh strawberry squash. Essenta took a sip, finding it most pleasant.

She smirked at Wilka, “Wilka… that’s five stallions already! You’re such a pretty little thing. Why not enjoy yourself, have a dance?”

Wilka could tell the princess meant well. She’d had a certain lucidity about her since Loress had kicked her ass a little. She was like a whole new mare.

“I, uh…” Wilka blushed. “I hafta go!”

And she did go, bolting out of the vicinity of the dance floor, over to Zyra’s magic show. Essenta turned to Orni.

“Orni, what’s her problem? I didn’t take Wilka to be a shy mare…” Essenta sipped on her squash.

Orni looked sadly after Wilka, “There’s… a lot to it. Best not to worry about it.”

Understanding the gravity of the statement, Essenta reformulated her plan, though she didn’t really have one. But before the princess could work her lackluster charm on the Knollwing, Orni spoke.

“…You’re really taking Wilka along with you, huh?”

Essenta snorted, almost choking on her delicious, non-alcoholic treat, “Snrrt!”

She coughed explosively, Orni hoofing her a cloth. Essenta gasped her thanks and wiped her face.

“I’m sorry, Essenta… I didn’t mean to… I’m just sad Wilka’s leaving.”

Orni wasn’t any kind of fool. Essenta knew Orni knew they wanted to take them both. But Orni held such a strong attachment to Renata. Broaching the subject was daunting. Still… Essenta knew what she wanted. She had a unanimous lack of confusion in her mind when she spoke.

“Orni… There’s nothing I can say to convince anypony to follow somepony like me. I don’t know why the girls follow me, truly. I just know they’re my friends. We’ve only known you a couple days, but… you’re our friend now, too. I can’t imagine what your life may have been like… I doubt most could guess what mine’s been like.

“When I left home, I didn’t stop to think about the things I’d miss. I was scared… angry… desperate. Spending a few days here has only reminded me of the things I now realize I miss so very much. Asking you to give all this up?! I feel like a real ass, Orni… But… I have some idea of what I want to do. It may sound vague, stupid, maybe… even nuts, but I want to show the world I’m not just some princess with a dowry tied around my neck!

“Whether I want to prove my father wrong, or achieve fame, or… something else, I don’t know. And I know how selfish I’ve been. But for some reason, Dechaa, Zyra, Ama, Loress, and even Wilka want to follow me. We’re on a fool’s errand; what we seek might not exist or has been lost… all this for the façade of appeasing my father, the king. And wherever things end up… I’d like you with us.”

Orni sat, mesmerized. But she still didn’t just totally fall for it, hook, line, and sinker like the others had.

“Wow, Essenta… you do have somewhere you want to go. I… just need to think about it. I’m flattered, truly, but… I need to think.”

Essenta nudged her, “You don’t know how good it is to hear that. Somepony at least thinking about following the likes of myself to who-knows-where, before jumping in…”

Orni beamed, “Thank you, Essenta… I’d like to talk to you about something as well. Please.”

“What is it?”

“About myself… I want to tell you.”

Essenta nodded and finished her strawberry squash, “Okay, Orni.”

“Let’s go to the bunkhouse. We’ll have some quiet, there.”

Essenta told the girls she and Orni were going back, and they wished each other goodnight. The next day was Friday. Then Saturday. In about 36 hours, they had decided, they would spar with the little Knollwing. But first, they would enjoy another day in Renata.

Author's Note

Check out the Appendix for Princess Essenta, updated as the story moves along. It shows the story's timeline and character designs. Contains spoilers.

The princess had a terrible morning, but found a peace and clarity later in the day, once she had a little sense knocked into her. Now, she and the company will enjoy and work another day, before getting their asses kicked by a Knollwing.

Look for Chapter 13 in the next week.

If you enjoy Princess Essenta, please take a look at my other story, Larkspur Blossom, if you haven't.

Thanks for reading, and take care.

Chapter 13: Recruiting Orni, Part One

Renata Arc

Saturday turned out to be even more eventful than the company had anticipated. Ponies came from all over the countryside to see the Saturday sparring matches. Essenta hadn’t bothered to see the grounds, but there were several sets of wooden bleachers, and a nice little hillside above the fighting pit. There must have been at least 100 ponies visiting, many having stayed in town the night before.

On Friday, Essenta having received permission from Orni to tell her story, sat down with the girls. Neither she, nor Dechaa and Loress knew either party had heard, but they could speak freely now. Wilka had elected to excuse herself for this, but Zyra and Ama finally heard it. It was a sad little tale, but they were pulled from their thoughts by seeing a few out-of-towners entering Renata.

Wilka opined she hadn’t seen so many in a while, so it would be a good weekend for the merchants. The girls were advised to avoid the various pubs in town and did so, spending a very enjoyable evening at the Valli household. Essenta had sworn off drinking for a while, and her friends were glad for it. They’d seen a sense of peace within her that hadn’t been around for a while.

But now came the day of the fights. The mares from the Dale realized they’d now been away from home four entire weeks… and what a time they’d had.

Wilka had hauled her box of sparring weapons from her cottage and set out everything she had. It was true what she’d said: just about anything they’d want to spar with was ready for their use.

Looking around, there were snack vendors, beer vendors, ponies taking odds on how long anypony might last against Orni… It was a circus and most of the town appeared to be there. Families had brought picnics and talked with their neighbors. The air was full of happy chatter and excitement. That day, there would be six matches. Wilka and each of the visiting five mares would take on their little champion. They were the only challengers that showed up. Most warriors had been tapped out, so it was fun to see so many able ponies in one day.

Orni sat, looking very relaxed, down by the pit. Wilka stood alongside Essenta and the company. Most of them were… rather nervous. They’d never seen Orni fight, but after hearing about her abilities, and the fact Wilka had never managed to beat her, things looked bleak.

Dechaa was appalled ponies were beginning to gamble on how long each of them would last, even before introductions. Ama and Loress just laughed about it; their cultures were much more… open to such competition. They had a little bit of time before the fighting actually began, so they did what they’d failed to do all week. They had yet to come up with a plan.

Essenta, wearing her light armor, leaned towards Wilka, “So… what do we do?”

Wilka was less concerned, “I’ve been giving it some thought, girls… And I came up with an order for the matches. Based on our own fights earlier, it’s the best I can come up with.”

She explained the order: Ama, Zyra, Loress, Dechaa, Wilka, and Essenta. It didn’t make a whole lot of sense to any of them.

Ama scratched her head, “I have no issue with going first, but… please explain yourself. This makes no sense.”

Wilka was glad to oblige, “The order I came up with is the best way to sway Orni to join us.”

Essenta was puzzled, as were the rest, “Sway?”

Wilka gave an all-in smirk, “We have almost no chance of beating her. None, really. It’s almost certain we will all lose… This… is just to convince Orni.”

Dechaa piped up, “Of what?”

“That we want her with us,” Wilka casually replied.

Loress knew quite a bit about the Knollwings, but the rest were in the dark on the matter. The Terran decided to say her piece.

“Girls, Wilka’s not exaggerating. It’s no joke when she tells us how strong Orni is. She’s a Knollwing in the truest sense. She has their magic… Wilka… would you like to tell them, or should I?”

Wilka almost doubled over in a giggling fit, “Go ahead! Be my guest.”

Loress tried to choose her words carefully, but there was little point, “When I asked Wilka if Orni had the magic, she responded Orni had it, as well as more. I’ve only seen one in my life, but… Orni can… change.”

A gloom came over the party. They didn’t know much, but they knew of the legendary ability of the Knollwings… they could, for lack of a better term, transform. It was little more than a berserker state, but Knollwings were built to withstand the stress of such power. They became stronger, faster, and very dangerous. And they didn’t collapse in a weak heap for a day when they were through with it, unlike other ponies.

Wilka nodded, “And Orni has transformed twice, that I know of. When she was a filly, soon after she was rescued, some foals picked on her. Without even realizing it, she entered the state. All she did was sit and cry, not realizing what was happening, but it scared the shit out of those colts…

“The other time she transformed was last year. Nopony’s told you, but you might as well know… A few robbers broke into the Valli house. They were unfortunate enough to come across Orni when she was getting a drink of water… Let’s just say, when they attacked her, they didn’t make it out of the house alive… or intact…”

This did wonders for the company’s already shaky confidence. Loress didn’t help matters when she shared her own story.

“A few years ago, I sparred with one at a tournament in Terrow. He wasn’t an unskilled fighter, but he was no match for me. I… pushed him into a corner, so the saying goes, and he went bonkers. I was lucky to outrun him… After that, Knollwings were banned from the Terrow tournaments…”

Wilka tried to… reassure them, “It won’t happen today. But you’re all probably gonna get your asses kicked… me too.”

Well… at least they probably wouldn’t die or anything.

Wilka continued, “The reason I chose the order I did was because it’s the only way to pull out Orni’s skillset. I didn’t put Essenta last because she’s our leader. I just think she’s the only one that might stand a chance, if we manage to spill Orni’s tricks or… well, there’s no real chance of it, exhaust her.”

Essenta felt her friends’ eyes upon her. She wasn’t feeling any better about this than anypony. They could still see Orni over in her spot… a quiet, yet eager manner about her.

But Wilka put a hoof on the princess’s shoulder, “But don’t worry. I know Orni really wants to go with you. She likes all of you and wants to join! But she needs to know we’re… willing to fight for her.”

Well, shit, the mares collectively sighed. Before the fights were to begin, Orni was introduced.

A unicorn stood in the center of the pit, his voice magically amplified, “Thank you, everypony for making the trip out here today! Today we have something special for you, but first… allow me to introduce our town sweetheart and little champion- with 294 wins and zero losses- Orni Valkea!”

The ponies cheered, stamping and clapping their hooves. Orni, standing off to the side, smiled shyly and waved, eliciting even greater applause. The company’s, other than Wilka’s, collective jaws fell to the ground. 294 wins?! Zero losses?!

The unicorn waved for quiet, “And to introduce a crowd favorite… Orni’s dear friend and most frequent challenger- in this very ring- with zero wins and 59 losses… our little engineer, Wilka Starling!”

There was a mixture of applause and laughter from the crowd. Wilka ate it up, smiling and waving good-naturedly. If there was any hope left with the girls, Wilka’s record killed it.

Essenta gathered her friends together, “Well… this is it. It’s not the fights that scare me, but the fact we’re finally exposing ourselves. They don’t all know our real names, but who are we kidding? Some of the ponies know who we are. After this, there may be no hiding… I… just hope we don’t have to run away. This town is special… and whether Orni decides to come along with us or not, I so wish to leave here in peace. Maybe enjoy another night of hospitality. But… we’ll see what happens.”

Some smiled, some nodded, some grimaced, some did all three, but this is how it would be. It may be the last afternoon they had in Renata. They bumped hooves and went to face Orni.

The crowd cheered as Ama approached. She’d once again chosen a staff. Ama and Orni stood on either side of the fighting pit, in view of the crowd. Shouts could be heard from the audience.

“10 ounces of silver says the Mazan doesn’t last 10 seconds!”

“I’m not taking that bet, she won’t last five!”

“I’ll take it… She’ll last more than 10.”

It went on raucously. Ama recognized how bloodthirsty the mob was, but for some reason it didn’t bother her. She was used to dueling… she just usually stood a better chance. Regardless, somepony would win 10 ounces of silver. Ama noted Orni. The little Knollwing looked… earnest. And she noticed a strange happiness in her foe. She felt one herself. It would be a good fight, Ama was sure.

The unicorn announcer raised a hoof, “The first of today’s challengers is Ama, a Mazan of the clan Waterfall! Give her a hoof!”

And they did cheer for her. They knew of the Mazans’ pride as warriors. She waved back, thankful. Ama smiled to herself… Even if she was the strongest Mazan in the world, nopony might be able to recognize it anyway… if Orni was indeed as good as was being touted. Rather than worry, she’d just fight. Looking to Orni, she saluted. Orni cracked a shy smile and returned it, as she clamped a short sword between her teeth.

The mares squared off and the crowd hushed. The announcer stepped out of the pit.

“On my mark… Fight!”

Ama had thought about this for several days and hadn’t decided what she’d do until she’d saluted Orni. There was no use in toying around… she went in full tilt. It surprised the little Knollwing and she had to dodge the swinging staff. Orni dove but was unable to get away from Ama’s long reach. Hit full in the face, Orni was staggered and went end-over-end.

Ama knew there was no way she could slow down. Keeping low, she launched herself, staff first, to pin her opponent. But Orni was out of the way by the time she arrived. Having managed to hold onto her sword, Orni dove and went for Ama’s ribs. It would hurt, but not injure, the Mazan… but it didn’t even phase her. Ama kicked, catching Orni and sending her flying.

Orni landed on her hooves and before Ama could attack again, she sprang back at her. It took everything Ama had to counter the rapid sword strikes. Any one of them would probably stun her and leave her open… But the participants were allowed more than one weapon in the ring. Ama figured it was time to pull it out.

Swinging the staff wide, warding off Orni a split-second, she opened her smock. She’d tied a heavy rope around her leg as she would her ball and chain. It wouldn’t pack as much power, but it sure gave her reach. Orni had to leap away as Ama sent the rope snaking across to her. The Mazan smiled at the Knollwing, who looked shocked, as she wound up the rope once more.

For the time being, Orni was on the defensive. Ama managed to cover quite a bit of ground with her reach. The rope caught Orni in the stomach, winding her, and sending her to her rump. Ama jumped back, and was wise to do so, as Orni bounced back almost instantly. But Ama wasn’t just standing there, waiting. She’d broken into… well, a break-dance, her staff and rope spinning a web of death.

It was a treacherous attempt for Orni, but she spotted a weakness in the web. Dropping her sword, she propelled through, even catching the surprise on Ama’s face. Orni went headfirst into Ama’s stomach. Ama, with more than just her wind knocked out, slowed her mechanism. Orni sprang back, facing Ama. The Mazan flashed a look of satisfaction at Orni, before her eyes rolled back and she sat down.

The crowd, silenced into shock from the very start, considered this. Then, a thunderous joy arose.

“Orni!”

“Well done!”

“45 seconds! I can’t believe it! That’s never happened before!”

Loress and Essenta ran out to Ama, while the rest looked on.

“Ama!” Loress cried.

But Ama was already with them, “Oh… that hurt!”

Orni was standing nearby and she cringed when Ama looked to her.

“Orni… that was outstanding… Thank you.” Ama proceeded to nod away.

The two company mares shouldered Ama away. But the crowd had not been disappointed with her, despite losing.

“Ama!”

“Mazan! Mazan! Mazan!!”

“Waterfall! That was awesome.”

Essenta noticed the slightest smile on Ama’s lips as she heard this. They set her aside to have Dechaa look her over.

With the spectators still going bananas, the announcer waved, shouting excitedly, “How about that?! That was… amazing… Let’s hear it again for Ama Waterfall!”

Without reservation, they gladly replied.

Zyra, to her friends, had never looked less sure of anything in her life. Restricted from any kind of magic, what did she have? Wilka put a hoof on her shoulder.

“Remember what you were able to do with me. Orni doesn’t know…”

The company urged their mage along and she faced Orni with a staff.

“I think many of you have already met her,” the announcer began. “Let’s see what kind of tricks she has up her sleeve! Please welcome… Zy the Magician!”

It was the name they’d given Zyra, to possibly protect their identity. The crowd, especially the foals present, showed their appreciation.

“Miss Zy!”

“Over here, Zy!”

“Do your best, Zy!”

It wasn’t the worst thing she’d ever heard. Zyra waved back gladly, receiving even louder support. She faced off with Orni… She had one chance… The element of surprise was her specialty. It was time to see if it would work on a Knollwing.

“Begin.”

Wasting no time, Orni sped across the ring. Recognizing she moved very much like Wilka, she cast aside the staff and in one fluid motion, caught Orni, grinding her to a halt. Zyra was able to lock her hooves but found Orni had already figured out her plan. Zyra and Wilka, very different in skill but about equal in raw strength, meant Zyra had a chance before. But Orni was about twice as strong physically.

Orni reversed the lock, despite Zyra’s best efforts, and pinned her legs behind her back. Zyra yipped.

“Yield! Yield!”

And that was that. Orni let her up, and smiling, the two shook hooves. The fact somepony had managed to stop Orni’s charge was amazing in and of itself. To the noise of the crowd, both mares picked up their weapons and walked off.

Zyra’s friends buffeted her, except for Ama, stirring in the shade of a tree. Orni glanced over, seeing this. It felt… right, seeing that.

It was now Loress’s turn. As far as most ponies knew, Loress was just a tall, gorgeous Earth pony. But a few knew better, Orni being one of them. She’d probably have the best chance of any of them, but Orni wouldn’t fool around this time… not that she had anyway.

The announcer chuckled, “How many of you tried to get a dance with this beauty?! It pleases me to announce our next challenger… Loress Claystable!”

In addition to the crowd’s roars, catcalls joined in. Loress blushed and tried to blend in with a patch of sand, what little good it did. But she looked across to Orni, her vision narrowing. Nothing else mattered. She saw Orni’s returned look, full of determination. If Loress could weather Orni’s blows, which was within the realm of possibility, she had a ghost of a chance.

Loress nodded to Orni, casting aside the sword she’d chosen. Orni had picked out a staff. To the surprise of all present, Orni declined the challenge, holding the staff more tightly. A gasp and a murmur went up all around. Loress couldn’t blame her. It was Orni’s best chance to disable her. Just catching her… one may as well try catching a rock falling from the sky.

As the announcer yelled for them to start, the audience was in for a real treat. If the company thought Loress and Orni were fast before, the two of them took it to another level. The girls could barely make it out, as the two mares clashed. Orni poked and prodded and whacked Loress to no avail. Loress would send her crumpling but never managed to get a good hit. Orni was tough. She was after all, built like a fireplug.

And Loress never let up. Orni was reduced to running around the pit, unable to do anything else as Loress barreled after her, occasionally tripping her up. The mares that had been around to watch Dechaa beat Loress recalled the only reason Loress lost… was she yielded in good spirit. She could have tied Dechaa in a knot as easily as blowing her nose.

Loress would do no such thing that day. Orni wasn’t arrogant, but she was still greatly humbled. Orni collapsed, gasping and wheezing, her staff in splinters. She’d pulled no punches and fought with all she had. It just wasn’t enough. But Loress didn’t attack her again. She stood there, staring down at the little Knollwing, expressionless.

She didn’t ask for Orni’s surrender. Orni nodded and bowed her head to Loress. The crowd was stunned into silence. Orni had never lost before. The little Knollwing tried to stand up but couldn’t. To her surprise, a shadow overtook her. It was Loress. With a gentle smile, she offered a hoof to Orni. Orni, a little surprised, grinned and took it.

The company was simply astonished… Loress had done what was supposed to be impossible. The crowd politely clapped as Loress helped Orni to her own corner… other than one drunk stallion.

“Whoo! Loress! Marry me, you great big, beautiful mare!”

Loress squeaked and moved more quickly. The crowd roared with laughter. As it turns out, the stallion had bet a few ounces of silver on Loress winning as a joke. Somepony had taken the bet… at 60-1 odds. It had him wishing he’d bet gold.

Dechaa and Wilka rushed to Orni. Orni was just fine. She was merely tired and beaten. Loress, without even consulting Essenta, went to the announcer and organizers. After a moment of talking, they were in agreement. And it shocked everypony.

“The challenging party wishes for a recess until tomorrow, so that all combatants may replenish their strength.”

This was met with confusion and boos, but most agreed with it. One could almost hear Farmer Valli and many other townsfolk groan. Another full day of the circus in town was more than they could bear…

A little later, Orni was sleeping. She was really worn out. It came as no surprise Knollwings came back quickly, so she’d be fine, even later in the day.

Loress had made a beeline back to the bunkhouse, where she was already bathing. Essenta and the rest of the girls, Wilka included, came into their accommodations. Essenta was upset.

“Loress… what was that?!”

Loress, having scrubbed down, was happily soaking. Her face was a mess and she was covered in small bruises and lacerations. She stared back to the princess.

“I’m guessing it’s not about my request to stay the fights another day, is it?”

And indeed, it wasn’t. After that, none of them wanted to see Orni have to fight again. Even Dechaa might have had a chance, which even Dechaa wasn’t ashamed to hear. Any of them would have made the request… if the event had arisen.

“You really could’ve hurt Orni, Loress! How do you think she feels, losing that badly? Do you think she’ll want to-?”

Loress glared at the princess, “Are you even listening to the words coming out of your mouth, Princess? It’s up to Orni if she joins us or not.”

Essenta seethed at her, Dechaa holding her back.

Wilka put a hoof to the princess, “Calm down, Essenta…”

Loress, still luxuriating in her hot bath, mused, “Ama and Zyra fought with everything they had… And it was spectacular! Don’t cheapen their efforts. I just went out there and fought. I sparred with her and I won. And if somepony can’t stand losing, I don’t want her by my side. But Orni isn’t that kind of mare… Tomorrow, she’ll probably wipe the sand with you…”

Loress sank further into the bath, sighing and burbling. Essenta, looking positively mutinous, shrieked. She stormed away. Dechaa was unsure of what to do, eyes darting from the princess to the other girls. But she chose neither. She sighed and slumped off into the bunkhouse, for a nap.

Ama chuckled, shaking her head at this. It had been quite a fight. She was more than satisfied with the day. She retired to the bunkhouse, figuring she’d wake up for dinner, feeling great. But Zyra and Wilka remained.

Loress draped her neck over the side of the tub, “Zyra, that was something. I didn’t think anypony would’ve been able to stop her the way you did… Well done.”

Zyra hoofed the back of her head, a little red in the cheeks, “Ah, shucks! I was surprised too. But as Wilka said, sometimes you lose when you gamble. Orni just had a better hoof of cards.”

Wilka giggled, “I did say that. Speaking of gambling, what will you do about that marriage proposal, Loress?”

Loress splashed her good-naturedly, though with a very embarrassed look about her, getting another giggle out of the Pegasus. Wilka jumped into the tub, splashing Zyra.

“Wilka! This was my bath! And you jump in without washing first! Look! You brought mud in!”

Zyra cackled as the two mares splashed each other. But they settled down, figuring they could just hose off once they got out.

Loress sighed, “So, Wilka? How’s Orni doing?”

Wilka plished around a bit, enjoying the bubbles, “As I said, she’s fine. She’s got no healing magic, but oh, would it be a pisser if she did! Her Knollwing magic will see her fresh as a daisy in the morning.”

Zyra just had to say it, “Loress… I simply cannot believe you beat Orni… After Wilka said-”

Wilka cut her off, “I overestimated Orni… I… just didn’t think it could’ve turned out the way it did.”

Loress pondered, “I wasn’t sure myself. I will say this… If Ama could move like Orni, she could kill anything. Orni just wasn’t strong enough… But, oh, does my head hurt…”

Zyra and Wilka cringed at the thought. Loress had taken bashings to her head and hide for a good 10 minutes before the fight was over.

Wilka addressed the elephant in the bath, “What should we do about Essenta?”

Loress hummed, “Don’t worry about her. She just needs to cool off. I still don’t understand what her problem is… Zyra. Any thoughts?”

The mage shook her head, “I really don’t know. Cap’s been weird lately. I just hope she doesn’t go for the bottle. We don’t need that…”

Loress groaned; she knew it was possible, “We just need to have faith that she’ll see to reason.”

Wilka hadn’t known Essenta long, but, “Do you think she will?”

Looking at both of her friends, “I don’t know.”

That night, the girls reconvened, reveling in the day’s events. Ama was so proud to have fought Orni. The girls thought they might never understand her. Orni had to congratulate Zyra. Not even Wilka had ever managed to halt her. And of course, Orni was in awe of Loress. Both being quite humble, they know it could have gone either way. Loress was just… sturdier.

The girls laughed and carried on, Dechaa feeling quite nervous about being the first up in the morning against Orni. As Loress had said, the Knollwing would bounce back and wipe the sand with them.

Orni’s family looked on with great gladness. It was a bittersweet thing. Seeing Orni and Wilka, who may as well have been part of the family, bond with these splendid young mares brought joy. Yet, they realized their daughter would be spending the last couple nights in their house. Orni was sold on the company.

There was only one cause for concern. Essenta had disappeared after her brief argument with Loress. All they could do was hope Essenta would appear before them, sober and ready to fight… and ready to lead. Loress had great faith in the princess, despite the rough time she gave her. It was the reason she gave the princess such a hard time. She’d come a long way from the tentative mare the company had picked up at the bridge… at least in some ways.

She just hoped her faith was well placed.

Author's Note

Check out the Appendix for Princess Essenta, updated as the story moves along. It shows the story's timeline and character designs. Contains spoilers.

Having done what nopony thought possible, Loress defeated Orni. But Orni will come back in good spirits. Hopefully, the princess doesn't do anything stupid, and return in good spirits herself.

Next time, Dechaa, Wilka, and (hopefully) Essenta will take a whack at the now once-defeated little champion.

If you enjoy Princess Essenta, please take a look at my other major story, Larkspur Blossom, if you haven't.

The Virgin Company is a shorter story I'm writing, about a Pegasus lieutenant, his platoon, and their part in the Centauri-Equestrian War.

Watch for the next chapter in the coming week.

Thanks for reading, and take care.

Chapter 14: Recruiting Orni, Part Two

Renata Arc

With just a bit of trepidation, Dechaa led the girls out to the sparring grounds Sunday morning. Loress playfully nudged her along, while those who’d gone the day before felt just a little sorry for the unicorn. Orni was in high spirits that day. Orni had all but declared her wish to go along with the company, wherever that may take her. The Knollwing had decided to walk to the grounds with her family, taking their sweet time about it. It might be their last day together as a family…

While some things were looking up, Loress was still cross. Their fearless leader, the princess, had pulled a disappearing act and nopony knew where she might be. The company checked the pubs… restaurants… the morgue… she was nowhere to be seen. The search around town had not been fun. It had been stated the town almost ran out of alcohol the night before. Many larders were bare, ponies having housed and fed so many guests an extra night. It was a small relief the harvest was to begin in days; the town wouldn’t have lasted the month.

The town didn’t really last the night… it was a mess! Ponies lay here and there, some too drunk to move, some passed out, many with their clothing bearing witness to their dinner. One could almost see the smell, now that it was warming up. Perhaps it had not been the best idea to head to the grounds so early, but they’d wind up there soon enough.

Making it out to the grounds, Wilka went to grab her weapons chest. It was quiet. Other than a food wrapper blowing around in the wind, the sparring pit and its surroundings seemed deserted… Turns out it wasn’t, made evident by Wilka’s shriek. It was hard to believe such a girly noise came from the little Pegasus… or not. She was little more than a filly, after all.

She’d found Essenta, snoozing in the shed somepony had built to house things for the ring. She didn’t appreciate being disturbed and grumbled darkly. The company feared the worst; Princess Essenta went and drank her weight in ounces and would soil herself soon as fight.

But she was fine, yawning, “Oh, g’morning, girls.”

Of course, as she stirred, Loress loomed over her. Essenta withered under her unusually fierce eyes, boring into her.

“I’m… really sorry for what I said… It was… stupid and I shouldn’t have gotten upset. I don’t know what I was thinking.”

Essenta continued to look down, hoofing a small patch of sand. But Loress gave a pleased little chortle and hauled the princess to her hooves.

“It’s alright, Princess. I’m just glad you… didn’t do anything foolish.”

Essenta hoofed her front leg with the other, “It was tempting… but I’m glad, too.

Zyra shook with laughter, “Cap, why’d you sleep out here?!”

“I… was… too embarrassed to come back. And there wasn’t anyplace else to sleep without some shitfaced pony tripping over me… so I came out here. At least it was quiet.”

The girls found this more than a little amusing, to Essenta’s irritation.

Dechaa whimpered, “So… are we keeping the same order we had planned…?”

Wilka buffeted her, eliciting much complaining from their healer, “Yeah! Do you really think we’d screw you out of the fun?! Just don’t win too much. I don’t wanna have to follow that…”

Dechaa cuffed her, “Fine… I promise I’ll leave something for you.”

The unexpected had happened… or rather, it had never happened before. There were even more ponies out at the sparring grounds than had been Saturday. News traveled fast enough, so in addition to another fair chunk of Renata showing up, about 200 ponies from around the countryside showed up. They’d heard that Orni, possibly the toughest pony in the country, had been defeated by a representation of female perfection, no less without weapons.

The town had no idea, straight up, how they would deal with this many… especially if some wanted to stick around until Monday. There was literally standing room only and food and drink would run out in a week…

Dechaa might have been concerned for the townsponies she’d grown to love, and even the drunk stallions that she had begun to tolerate nipping at her ass, if she wasn’t about to deal with a Knollwing. Loress patted her shoulders as Dechaa agonized, her face baring witness to what Orni had done with her stick; Loress didn’t look quite as pretty that morning. Not one to fuss about her looks that much, she still wanted to hide her face.

But Dechaa didn’t care much about that, either. Staring across to Orni, she knew her goose was cooked. She couldn’t use magic; those were the house rules. Sure, she’d beaten Loress, but she had magic, got lucky, and Loress willingly submitted. She barely used her mouth for anything other than taking in food and talking. Why bother with sword practice or much else when your horn works?!

Taking one Wilka’s training dirks from the chest, she tried it in her mouth. It tasted like crap… She plodded out to face Orni, her friends consoling her along. Fighting Loress, she’d felt an unfamiliar confidence, if only because she had a plan. But now, all she felt was… well, despair was far too strong a word. She felt slightly less hopeless than that but had no confidence. She only hoped it wouldn’t hurt too badly.

Greeted by the same catcalls Loress endured, Dechaa stood on one side of the ring, facing Orni and her staff. Well, one of her staffs… A newer staff made of oak, it appeared, rather than pine. Great… The staff might sting a little. Dechaa whined a little at the thought.

The same unicorn from the day before barked to those in attendance, “Thank you for coming out! To those who showed up today, welcome! To everypony who bore witness to yesterday’s historic event, welcome back! I present to you, our town sweetheart- now with a record of 296 wins and one loss- Orni Valkea!”

The ponies clapped, cheered, and whooped it up. Nopony who saw her fight Loress thought any less of her. She was still their little champion. Orni blushed, looking very touched, and waved cheerfully to her friends, neighbors, and fans. The company knew this might be the last time they’d see Orni for a time… if Orni made the final commitment to join them on their crazy quest.

“And now, it pleases me to introduce a mare who needs no introduction! Her beauty, only surpassed by a few, and I could count them on one hoof… She wouldn’t dance with me, but maybe somepony else had better luck! Please welcome Chaa, the fair!

Dechaa scowled, the fair?! The audience ate it up. The catcalls and whistles increased in intensity.

“Chaa! How about we make a little music?!”

“Chaa! Buy you a drink, later?!”

“I could pinch that filly all day!”

“Two pounds of silver says the unicorn won’t last 5 seconds!”

“Does her running away from Orni count for the time?! Chaa’s pretty fast when she wants to get away from you!”

“You’re supposed to be some kind of doctor, right?! Does this look infected to you?”

“Here’s a bet! A month’s pay says the unicorn’ll be done in one clash!”

“You’re on! Even she may get lucky!”

All this brought even more laughter.

It disgusted the healer. Orni felt pretty bad for her and so did quite a few ponies. It became apparent to Dechaa, that since Loress… put herself “out of reach” the day before, she was the object of everypony’s assholery that day. It really pissed her off. She wouldn’t “take it out” on Orni, Orni was her friend, but… she’d give all those peckerheads something to ogle!

Orni saw the light in Dechaa’s eyes. She’d regained her composure from her introduction, now maintaining an even look. Inwardly, she was quite pleased… she’d never planned to go easy on Dechaa. Now she wouldn’t even entertain the thought. She’d give Dechaa a fight. The company, seeing Dechaa fired up, felt a little better about it.

“And now! Fillies and gentlecolts, let the first match of the day begin!”

Ignoring the racket going on around them, the two mares paced around the ring. Dechaa’s nervousness was more or less gone. She’d just do what she could.

Orni hadn’t seen Dechaa fight, but knew she’d been able to deal with Wilka for a time. Even using her magic, that was nothing to sneeze at. She’d beaten Loress, for what it was worth. Even with magic and a playful opponent, felling Loress was not unimpressive. She’d done everything she could against the Terran and failed to do more than give Loress a bunch of bruises. She couldn’t hold back. It could cost her.

Neither was eager to make the first move. But Orni made it anyway and both mares charged to the center of the ring. Orni took a swing that Dechaa somersaulted to avoid, even catching Orni’s back leg with a hoof. It kept Orni from turning around immediately. Somepony just lost his month’s pay…

It took a second, but Orni rounded on Dechaa, looking to sweep her legs. She easily jumped, going headfirst into Orni’s trunk. It hurt, but Orni was solid enough it didn’t even knock the wind out of her. Dechaa was in too close for Orni to use the staff, but Dechaa had no prospects either, so the unicorn jumped back; Orni could have still walloped her with a hoof.

The company was cheering on both mares and the audience found itself reflecting on its choice of words.

Orni found herself flummoxed. Dechaa, she knew, wasn’t a bad fighter, but this wasn’t what she expected. After just two clashes, she knew she’d picked a terrible weapon. She should have figured Dechaa to be the close quarters type. She’d misjudged… but if she could keep her at a distance, she could tire her out or incapacitate her.

Dechaa knew Orni was fairly weak with the staff against her. But if Orni wanted to keep her away, she would hold onto the staff. Still, she’d readily ditch it if she thought it was a good idea. Knowing she had only one or two chances to get in close before Orni cast away the staff and laid into her with hooves, Dechaa galloped in.

Orni was ready to receive, but she wasn’t ready for Dechaa to fling the dirk at her face. Acting on skill rather than instinct, she batted the dirk away with the staff. By invention or incident, Dechaa had an opening. It would have been better for Orni to just shift her head a bit.

Even Orni wasn’t able to stop Dechaa as she drove into her. Dechaa propelled her across and around the ring, desperately trying to get her on her back or at least knock her over. Orni was in trouble; Dechaa held the staff, tangling up Orni while managing to keep three legs on the ground as opposed to Orni’s two back legs.

Orni saw her chance and sprang to the side. Dechaa was still under a lot of momentum, causing her to tumble. Orni turned and swung the staff. Dechaa had recovered; she would defend herself, Orni was sure.

Only Dechaa didn’t raise her guard… She wound up, and with all her weight behind her, aimed a haymaker at Orni’s ribcage. Orni saw it coming but couldn’t do much about it. The staff hit Dechaa full in the side of the head, but Dechaa’s hoof found its mark. Orni was lifted off the ground by the force of the punch. She could feel several ribs breaking. And it hurt.

Orni fell back, crying out as she hit the ground. Dechaa had been knocked out by the blow to her head and fell where she stood. The audience gasped, having witnessed this. Orni was tough… but she was unused to being hurt in such a way. She was squawking in perfect agony, rolling around in the sand.

Everypony murmured as the company rushed out. The old town doctor, the one that saved Orni’s life all those years ago, went with them.

“Orni! Hold still! Quit moving.”

Loress held her still while the doctor looked her over. The ribs were broken alright. Dechaa had really connected. The girls were aghast at the borderline suicidal move. Take a hit like that for a gamble?! It was very “not Dechaa”.

Everypony was shocked. Not only had Orni been hurt for the first time in a fight, it had been the joke of the town for the last few days that did it. The mare had some serious stones… They would have applauded the gamble but found it hard when their town sweetheart was in such pain.

Wilka was able to heal herself, but she could also do so with others. She wasn’t good at it yet, by no stretch, but a unicorn’s magic helped greatly. Zyra was attempting to sooth the injury. The girls found themselves wishing very much their healer hadn’t just clocked out. But what was there to do?

As the ribs began to sew back together, they were able to move Orni, where she continued to recuperate on the sidelines. It would take some time for everything to heal, but she’d feel as if nothing happened within an hour.

Dechaa was taken away on a stretcher. Determining she would be okay after a while, they laid her in the shade. Now she got applause. And respect. She just wasn’t awake to hear it.

It was announced there would be an hour-long break, allowing everypony lunch if they had it along. All the restaurants and pubs were, for the residents of Renata, conveniently closed for the day. Essenta and company left Dechaa in the shade, in the care of Zyra, to join Orni.

Orni was wincing as Wilka mollified the receding fractures. Orni still couldn’t believe Dechaa would do something… so crazy. It was insane, doing that. The others couldn’t agree more. But were they giving her too much credit? Did she take the hit, not seeing it? Or… did she take it for a chance to do in her opponent? It was a mystery… one not solvable until Dechaa came to.

Essenta was more than just a little worried about her best friend.

“Oh, what was that?!” the princess almost sobbed. “What was she thinking?”

Ama kneaded Essenta’s shoulder, “None of us expected such a thing, but Dechaa will be fine. Do not worry… Orni, how are you?”

Orni flinched as Wilka prodded her, “I’ll be- yip- good in a while. How bad’s Dechaa?”

Loress chuckled, “Oh, she’ll be fine. You really didn’t pull any punches out there, did you?”

Orni regretted what happened to Dechaa, but it had been a genuine match, “I couldn’t afford to… not like I would anyway… but I really tried to keep her away. I should’ve thought about it a little more… Shoulda just fought with hooves.”

Loress nodded, “Might have been better for you. Close up is how she got me. I wasn’t holding back then… oh, no. When I knew what her plan was, with those cesti, my only hope was to control the fight… and end it quickly.”

Orni was just a little miffed, “You went easy on me, though…”

“I did no such thing… We were just sparring, it’s not like I was going to kill you or anything,” the Terran joked. “I won’t say she didn’t get lucky… she won a couple high-risk gambles, not that she was lucky to take that whack. That was something… I wouldn’t have done.”

It surprised them to hear Loress say that. Even the stoutest hit wouldn’t knock her out so easily… but the pain she surely felt. It was why she stuck close to Orni, if only to deaden some of the blows. Her noggin still hurt.

Orni couldn’t figure it out, “If she did intend to take the hit, why would she? She knew a full swing would have finished her…”

It was a question none of them could answer. Did she do it to prove something? Maybe. Was it a desperate move, barely calculated? Possible. Nopony knew… Maybe she just wanted to win. A true all or nothing wager.

After about an hour, Orni’s ribs were fine and she’d never felt better. Dechaa had regained consciousness but not her senses. The last fight was declared a tie. Nopony would have had it otherwise. Orni was conscious, but she was done. The girls rather looked forward to telling Dechaa she’d managed to tie with a Knollwing in a fair fight.

Zyra wanted to see the fight with Wilka but decided to watch over Dechaa instead. Essenta, over the initial shock of seeing her oldest friend put to the ground as she was, was eager for the next fight. Wilka was good… She was very good. All of them had a decent fight with her, but now they would see something on another level, perhaps.

The thing was, Wilka and Orni knew each other well. They knew the other’s fighting style intimately. They’d sparred, played, and traded secrets for two years. It would either be a long, miserable affair or one of them would see quick victory.

The old friends both enjoyed the staff, so it’s what they’d spar with. The crowd was now very excited. They’d seen the little Pegasus get whupped most weekends, but they usually had a good scrap. The two mares faced off. They had a little chat, something nopony else was privy to.

“Wilka… I’ve decided to go along with all of you.”

Wilka cracked a smile, “I know… but you still need to fight Essenta. I don’t think either of you will be satisfied until you have it out. I’ve only seen it a couple times, but she’s dangerous. Don’t underestimate her… and don’t turn your back, either. What she showed me… I have a feeling she didn’t show me everything she had. Just be careful.”

Orni nodded, “Well… I suppose we’ll have plenty of time to play in the future but… I’m a little sad… that this’ll be our last fight, here.”

“It might not be… but it may be some time. What do you say we give them something to remember?”

Orni felt her eyes heat up but managed to push the lump back down her throat, “You don’t even have to ask. I do have a question, though… Why put Essenta last? I’m sure you have some reason; you always do. But why? Why not make our fight last?”

Wilka gave an all-in sheen, “Because it’s something nopony here will ever forget.”

The announcer stood at the ring’s center, “Now, for the penultimate fight of the day! Our longtime friend Wilka Starling will take another crack at Orni! Will she walk away victorious, or round out 60 losses? We’re about to find out! Give her a hoof!”

They did more than that; they roared for their other town sweetheart. Really, that’s what Wilka was to all of them.

Orni stood easily, but with voice dripping emotion, “Ready… my friend?”

Wilka felt the same way, but damned if she was going to show it to everypony, “Oh, yeah… I’m good and ready. No holding back now, right? I’m in this to win. A victory against you wouldn’t mean anything to me, other than here.”

Orni could relate, “It has been quite a home for us. I’ll miss it dearly…”

Unaware of the heartfelt exchange between the two, the crowd was in a frenzy as the announcer raised a hoof.

“Orni! Wilka! Give us a fight!”

Both mares sprang from their side of the ring. They clashed in the middle. Nopony could make out what happened, but it came clear when Wilka collapsed, looking dazed. Orni stood over her, holding out a hoof. Smiling, Wilka took it and was dragged to her hooves. They walked off, embracing and giggling. The crowd, unsure of what else to do, politely applauded the girls… It had been the shortest match they’d ever had.

Essenta, sticking close to Dechaa, stood up. Zyra felt… something different radiating from her dear old friend, the “Captain”. Slowly she began to paddle towards the ring, dirk clamped in her mouth. Orni, seeing her approach, left off with Wilka; they’d have all the time in the world to enjoy the other later. She began to make her own way. It was time to face the princess.

The other mares in the company noticed Essenta’s air; it was… overwhelming. From her radiated the profound certainty that occasionally popped up with her. She’d shown it each time one of them had joined them… that dubious charisma. But it was more than that. They did feel she could do the things she claimed.

The crowd didn’t notice. Who was this facing their Orni? She was some alcoholic, wannabe brawler who took swings at her own friends when she was drunk. She was just some nopony. And the princess was okay with this. Nopony that didn’t already know who they were didn’t need to know.

She even heard jeers that had Dechaa’s sounding tame. Dechaa was the star that day and the ponies realized it. Essenta… wasn’t sure that she would have been able to do what Dechaa did. That took real courage… or Dechaa was just crazy and/or didn’t know what she was doing. They’d find out later.

Originally planning to use the dirk, Essenta dropped it back into Wilka’s crate and stepped to the ring. Orni, about to choose the staff again, stopped cold. What was Essenta up to?

“Essenta… I know the rules say no magic, but… I know how the cesti work. We could each take a set. Sound interesting?”

With all her heart, Essenta was glad to hear that, but, “I’m fighting barehooved. Do what you want.”

With that, Essenta tossed aside her light armor. This further perplexed her friends… Orni too. Face Orni without protection? It was crazy.

Orni stood across from her. Considering all this, she chose to go in weaponless herself. She took off her own armor, leaving a simple tunic as Essenta had. The crowd inhaled as one in a big, townwide gasp. The mares would face each other as they were.

Ama, in particular, was getting excited. She knew they were about to see something out of this world. The others wished they had her confidence. This was uncharted territory.

Orni wasn’t sure how she’d fight. She knew Essenta’s style from two fights. She’d almost shattered a leg punching Loress and had simply stood across from Wilka as they clobbered each other. What she was sure of was the princess was different.

Essenta heard the crowd jeering her. She couldn’t blame anypony. She’d been such an ass. And she was about to steal away their sweetheart? What would they do when they found out? Would they have to run? Would they string her up? That would be one lousy way for a princess of the Dale to go…

The announcer pulled them each from their thoughts, “For the last fight, we have Sen from up north!”

There wasn’t much else to say. The crowd whispered. Orni looked across to Essenta.

“Essenta? What’s it all for? I know what you want to do, but why? Do you have an answer yet?”

Essenta sighed, “I don’t. I think about it… all the time. But I don’t have an answer. All I know is I’m after something… and for some reason they all decided to come along. I just know I need to keep going.”

“Well, in case you haven’t figured it out… you have another one that wants to go along with whatever it is.”

Essenta was taken aback; she didn’t know as she’d slunk off the day before, “Really? You’ll come along?”

“With all my heart, yes, Essenta! Let’s go turn the world upside down! We still get to fight, though, right?”

Essenta did a take, “Of course! But, I don’t know why we should even bother…”

Orni smirked, “But something tells you to do it anyway. Your essence… it’s something I’ve never seen before. And I want to fight. I guess… fighting’s in a Knollwing’s blood. That’s enough for me.”

As the two conversed, the announcer made ready to call for a start and it got the girls’ attention.

“And now… begin!”

But they didn’t start; Orni looked most forlornly to her new leader, “Essenta… I’m… ready to tell them. Could I do it before we start?”

Essenta saw the tears welling up in the little Knollwing’s eyes, “Go right ahead. Take your time, dear. And don’t fuss over me… I’m not going anywhere.”

Orni began to cry a little as she stepped to where the announcer stood. He was surprised to see her walk over. She’d never done it, not in 299 fights.

“Zep… is there a way you could magnify my voice… like you do yours?”

He was confused, “Uh, sure, Orni… Put a hoof on my shoulder.”

His horn glowed, and she did as she was told. The audience sat rapt, waiting for their little champion to speak.

“Everypony! I… I love all of you! This has been my home since I was just a little filly… You’re my friends and I love you! But… it’s time for me to go.”

Loud whispers and gasps broke out, but they quieted down when it appeared she’d speak again.

“I… I’m going with Wilka! We’re leaving… with these wonderful mares you’ve all met the last few days! I… just decided last night… It’s where we want to be! So, this will be my last match here… for at least some time… But… this will always be my home! Nothing will ever change that! I’m… sorry… but this is what I want to do!”

Nopony could say a word and many were moved to tears. Orni pulled her hoof away from the announcer.

“Thank you… Zep.”

He was shocked at the announcement, “Uh, sure, Orni.”

She giggled. He never was much for when words really mattered. Orni stood across from Essenta once more.

“Thank you… Essenta. I’m ready… whenever you are.”

Essenta hoofed the sand, “Sure.”

The whole of the community watching could feel the air change. They all got chills and didn’t quite understand why. Orni stood there, a wild smile on her face. She looked… formidable. Essenta returned the potent smile. Her normally placid amethyst eyes flared. The two mares began to pace, eyeing the other as cats might. The smiles never left their faces…

Then they charged in, leaping through the air! They collided while airborne and began to grapple as they tumbled into the sand. Each was fair at grappling: Essenta had done it with her brother Abetelles and Orni with Wilka. Rolling around in the sand for a while, it was clear Orni was slightly stronger physically, but not so enough to overpower the princess. Essenta was much stronger than Wilka and Zyra… Dechaa, too.

Orni tried locking Essenta up, pushing her around the pit. Essenta caught herself, and kicked Orni across the ring, with a little help from the Knollwing’s momentum. While Essenta ran at Orni, a bellow building in her throat, Orni dove, sending the princess end-over-end. Orni tried to pounce, but Essenta rolled out of the way. Essenta popped Orni in the jaw. It was the first big hit of the fight... not powerful enough to hurt her, but to get Orni’s attention.

Orni grinned, a trickle of blood at the corner of her mouth, if the princess wants to box… I can oblige. The two weaved around, trying to land punches and kicks, rarely landing anything. They weren’t even really trying yet. It was clear they wanted this to go on for a while. Why exactly, nopony knew… except maybe the two mares. They weren’t trying to kill each other or anything… they were just sparring.

It was getting hard to watch for the company.

After a while, Dechaa finally stirred again. Her head was a little cloudy and hurt, but she was all there. She saw Zyra looking off somewhere.

“Zyra… what’s going on?”

The mage looked down, “Oh, Dechaa. You’re finally awake.”

Dechaa’s mind swam, but, “How’d things finish up? I guess Orni beat me… I… don’t remember.”

Zyra smirked, “Oh, you didn’t lose. You tied with her. But we can talk about that later. If you can sit up, look…”

Dechaa sat up slowly, allowing the blood to rush from her head more slowly. She looked to where Zyra pointed. There was Essenta… and Orni… and… had they been in a war?!

Their faces looked like strawberry jam as they staggered around the ring. The crowd was making no sound at all; they only watched. Occasionally, one of the mares would weave up to the other and throw a punch or kick. Half the time, nothing landed; they were too loopy to aim. Dechaa was aghast. She made it to her own hooves and zigzagged over to the rest of the girls, watching this with awe.

“Dechaa! You really need to sit!” Zyra pulled at the other unicorn.

Dechaa was about to open her mouth to tell somepony to stop all this, but… she was as enthralled as anypony else. Loress was watching more thoughtfully than the others, as if she was carefully considering everything.

Dechaa mumbled, “Loress… how long… how long have they been at it?”

Loress shook her head wonderingly, “Almost an hour. They’ve… really been going at it.”

“Why?!”

“Dunno. I think they just want to see what the other’s got… But… I don’t know. It should be over soon though.”

It did look that way. They were slowing down more now, barely able to stand.

Orni gasped, snuffling with her broken nose, “How… much… longer… tired…”

Essenta wheezed, spitting out a molar; she managed to breathe a little easier with her own nose intact, “You ready to call a draw? I called one with Wilka.”

“You’ve asked… twice already! Still… no!” Orni spat.

“Okay, then… I’m gonna end this!”

“Oh, piss on… you, Princess! This… is my fight.”

Pulling down deep, from where, nopony knew, they each barreled in for a final hit.

Orni couldn’t lift her front legs anymore, but she could stand on her back legs.

Essenta couldn’t make it on two legs but managed to wind up a front leg.

As Essenta sank her hoof into Orni’s ribs, Orni headbutted Essenta right in the nose. Orni gagged, coughing up just a bit of her morning snack. Essenta’s nose finally broke and her head was juked.

Orni’s neck was stronger and her head harder than Essenta’s. The princess went flump and Orni followed a couple seconds later.

Essenta…

Essenta… wake up…

The princess opened her eyes. She was in the shade of a tree. She… felt like shit. Groaning, everything hurt, and she couldn’t move. Her face burned, filling her eyes with tears.

Dechaa’s sharp brown eyes tore into her, “Hold still! I’m trying to fix your nose.”

Essenta quickly found she was able to breathe more easily.

Dechaa looked off, “Zyra… bring me the… urgh… teeth. I need your help with them.”

Zyra’s beaming face winced at what she saw, “Well, Cap, you didn’t quite break your record for teeth lost when you were 13, but you came close! Maybe next time.”

Dechaa treated them to some rare language, “Don’t fuck with me and come here! Really, don’t fuck with me… my head still hurts.”

Trying to talk around the unicorns putting her teeth back where they belonged, “Wha’ da fuh w’r oo doon, D’ch?”

Dechaa prodded Essenta’s nose, still tender, “Shut up and hold still!”

After a moment, they were done.

Zyra patted Essenta on the shoulder, “You should feel normal tomorrow, but… you’ll be pretty sore for a while.”

Essenta rubbed her muddled head, “How long was I out?”

Zyra considered, “About two hours. Mostly, you were just sleeping. You gave us quite a show, Cap!”

“Who won?”

Zyra told her, “Orni did. They argued whether it was a tie, but… I guess they only saw fit to award one of those today. But Orni only stayed up two seconds longer than you.”

“Where is Orni?”

Zyra giggled, “She’s with her folks… she was in almost as bad of shape as you, but she woke up pretty fast. Dechaa and I fixed her up. Wilka’s been helping us too.”

Essenta looked around, “Where’s Dechaa?”

She was upset Dechaa had taken such a foolish risk… if she did. She wasn’t the first pony to ask.

Dechaa, sitting nearby, actually shrugged, “I… don’t know. I… just wanted to win.”

It was all she’d say about it. Essenta and the girls could have turned this over in their heads, but… whatever… It sure earned her some respect.

Essenta slowly sat up, eyeing the lump on the side of Dechaa’s head, “That’s quite a bump… You could’ve at least ducked.”

With that aside, Essenta managed to stand. Her ribs, mashed up early in the fight, stopped hurting after a while. And all she felt now was a dull throb. But her whole body felt that way. Smiling to herself, she recalled plenty of good hits of her own landed.

It was quiet at the Valli Farm. The family was out doing their chores, with little enthusiasm. They nodded to the princess, with… respect. Essenta wasn’t sure if she deserved that. She was taking away their daughter after all.

Managing a little dinner, Essenta and Orni joined the girls in town. The town had decided that afternoon they’d have a little going away party for their two young mares. Essenta and Dechaa and indeed the others, definitely earned a little reverence the past couple days. They’d witnessed history, as far as the town was concerned. But the night was for their newest companions.

Essenta spent the night in a corner, drinking strawberry squash and watching the festivities. Her friends were having a good time, but she was satisfied where she was.

The next morning, everypony got up early and packed. Wilka pulled what she needed from her cottage and went to the farm. Loading up their wagon, it was time for everypony to say their goodbyes. The family and the very few that knew just who the party was, prayed their young ones were in good hooves. They reasoned they were… even if none of the girls were perfect, they brought out the best in each other. They could always pick up the other’s slack.

The other ponies in town were unsure of things. They didn’t know who these mares were or where they came from. They even followed an alcoholic teenager, so it seemed… but they were certainly special mares. They’d never seen anypony as powerful as some of them were.

So, before the town, Orni and Wilka said their farewells. Wilka was ready to go; a few of the girls saw she was ready to burst out crying… Orni lingered a moment.

“Mom… Dad… No matter what, you’ll always be my mom and dad. Thank you… thank you for loving me! Gallus, Cleon, Tethys, Helena… You’ll always be my little brothers and sisters… I love you all… Maybe someday… I’ll meet my other family… but even if I do, this will always be my home!”

The little Knollwing broke down, her family joining in. The company looked upon the bittersweet display, willing to give it as much time as was needed. Wilka had to turn away; she’d watched all she could handle, while keeping her composure.

But eventually, they were all ready to go.

“Little company!” Farmer Valli trumpeted. “Take care of our girls! They’re so very special to us!”

Essenta and company turned, beaming. They certainly would try.

“Goodbye… and thank you!” Essenta called back.

The little party went on. Soon they would move out of the scrubby forest back into the steppe, but that would be a week away. The desert was a little further south. Then the Badlands. And somewhere, beyond that… and more mountains… was the Great Southern Jungle.

They could get there, but it was another 2,000 miles. They’d get to know each other really well before then…

Author's Note

Check out the Appendix for Princess Essenta, updated as the story moves along. It shows the story's timeline and character designs. Contains spoilers.

So the little company has gained one more oddball to join them on their merry little excursion. Looking forward to whatever awaits them, the girls continue to make their way south.

Next time, we'll briefly touch base with a few other ponies of note.

I hope the end of this chapter didn't seem too abbreviated. Didn't mean to rush through it, but the girls spent more than enough time in the town of Renata.

If you enjoy Princess Essenta, please take a look at my other major story, Larkspur Blossom, if you haven't.

The Virgin Company is a shorter story I'm writing, about a Pegasus lieutenant, his platoon, and their part in the Centauri-Equestrian War.

Watch for the next chapter in the coming week.

Thanks for reading, and take care.

Chapter 15: Tracking the Party

Troubles Arc

Within a couple days of receiving word, the Elite Three of the “Fire Breathers”, that notorious band of unicorns, had already found their target.

Princess Essenta was by no means a careless mare, they’d learned, but she and her friends were no match for the expert tracking skills of the Elite Three. The mares’ trails were picked up a couple days south of the Great Canyon Bridge that had just gone up. They reasoned the princess had the kind of money to cross with no questions asked. The three were sure whatever gold and silver the princess and her friends carried wouldn’t be missed once the job was done.

They had their suspicions of who their client might be, but they truly didn’t care. Their boss Radulf told them who to find and what to do about her. It was their only concern.

Because of the two unicorns, the little mage apparently skilled, they kept quite a distance from the little party. They couldn’t afford to be found out. Dealing with a fight was just too much hassle… They had their orders and they would follow them. They’d never received bad intelligence or failed. They would see neither this time.

The princess and the two unicorns were easy enough to recognize. It was the two Earth ponies they’d picked up somewhere between the Dale and the Canyonlands that concerned them. Still… they were just a couple of Earth ponies. They died just as easily as anypony.

They’d seen the girls sparring over lunch but thought little of it. They were mares… what did they know of fighting? The first unicorn, upon their learning of the additional mares, called in.

The crystal ball they carried with them glowed, “Yes? Have you made initial contact?”

“Yes, Radulf. It wasn’t difficult to find them. There is no mistaking… it is Princess Essenta and the two unicorns described… They’ve picked up a couple of Earth ponies since the Dale. We can’t say anything about them, yet, other than one is rather tall. If I didn’t know better, I’d say she was of the Mazan.”

Radulf considered, “Well, that shouldn’t be a problem for any of you.”

“When do you want the job done?”

"Let them get away from the canyon a few more days. Update me once that happens. You are not to engage them in any fashion without my expressed word. Do you understand?”

“Yes, sir. We will maintain our watch from a distance and contact you when things develop further.”

Radulf smiled, “Good… See this through, and we will be handsomely rewarded. Just do your jobs and it should be fine.”

The crystal ball faded out. They had their orders and continued to track the company.

The Elite Three followed their orders exactly but ran into some trouble. They were not to go within a certain distance of any established settlement. The mares had come too close to the town of Renata.

They were afraid their leader would be most upset about this but couldn’t fault them.

“I didn’t anticipate the princess and her companions would go near Renata. It is at least a day’s travel out of the way. Keep a distance away from the settlement and notify me once they leave.”

It was a great relief Radulf understood this. Some things were just unforeseen. Why go out of the way when there are other towns just up the road? The minds of mares made little sense though. They’d do their job.

What they hadn’t expected, was to wait from a Monday evening until the next Monday in the morning…

They’d kept Radulf updated, seeing nothing, and were simply told to wait. To just wait and follow procedure.

Once the mares emerged, the three stallions were surprised to see another Earth pony and even some little Pegasus. Both were… obviously young. This didn’t bother them, though. They’d robbed, raped, or killed just about any kind of mare or filly imaginable. It was just another small obstacle in obtaining the princess.

Radulf was pleased, “We must still be cautious. Wait until the mares are a couple days away from Renata. Once you feel ready, make contact once more, and receive final instructions. Do not engage until then. Understood?”

They understood, certainly. Still stuck following these seven mares for a couple days, they’d seen nothing remarkable. It would be easy… and they might even get a special… treat for their trouble.

The princess was strictly off limits, but any of the other mares would provide them good sport. And what a selection! Compared to what they were used to, it was an intoxicating prospect. None of them had ever had a Mazan before… To sully her virgin warrior’s pride as they watched the lights leave her eyes…? They could hope. It never hurt to hope.

The time to strike came on a Wednesday night. Deciding that night would be it, they contacted Radulf.

“Coat darts with “Long Sleep”… You are to make your way around the camp until all seven are unconscious. Once they are, go in. Make no mistakes. Identify the princess. You are to bring her to me, secured and unconscious. I will take things from there. Kill the rest. Make it quick… and no sport! That is a direct order. I’m sending you a little something that should… help clean things up. It should make itself seen momentarily by way of the crystal ball.”

The first stallion nodded, “Understood. We will carry out your orders.”

“Good. You may proceed, otherwise, as you see fit. Remember… the princess can fight. And the mage is not to be underestimated. But you’re capable of disabling anything she may have established as a barrier.”

The stallion nodded, “We will contact you when finished and out of the area.”

The crystal ball faded out. The three unicorns were quite disappointed they’d have no chance to taste any mare that night but knew they had more than enough of them back from where they came. Radulf's harem wasn't the prettiest thing, but it satisfied.

Dusk was soon approaching. The stallions put on all black and made ready. It was just another job. They just had to do it, no messing around… This kind of stuff was routine to these three.

But they lacked some rather important information, as they stalked to where the mares camped. They knew nothing of the power of the two larger mares. They knew nothing of the new additions from Renata. And they had no idea on Earth what had just gone on during the weekend at the Renata Sparring Grounds.

If they’d kept a closer eye on things, they may have turned back. But they’d followed their orders and had never run into trouble before.

It was unknown the planned, routine murder they were accustomed to might prove more eventful than anypony had anticipated.

Author's Note

Check out the Appendix for Princess Essenta, updated as the story moves along. It shows the story's timeline and character designs. Contains spoilers.

Just a short chapter to show everyone what else is going on around the princess.

Next time, the company finds itself in a spot of trouble. Fair warning: things get a little out of hoof, so to speak.

Watch for the next chapter in the coming week.

If you enjoy Princess Essenta, please take a look at my other major story, Larkspur Blossom, if you haven't.

To plug my third story, The Virgin Company is the story of a Pegasus lieutenant, his fresh platoon, and their part in the Centauri-Equestrian War, 600 years ago.

Thanks for reading, and take care.

Chapter 16: Night Raid

Troubles Arc

Outside of the company’s camp, the three stallions waited. Everypony had fallen asleep, save the little Pegasus and Earth pony Essenta had recruited in the town. The two were obviously keeping watch but paid more attention to their chatter than their surroundings.

Once these two were out, moving in would be easy. They’d put all seven of them to sleep, take the princess, and kill the rest of them. They even had a spell Lord Radulf personally devised, which would clean up the mess, as if the six mares and their campsite never existed. The first stallion sat, while the second and third took up position.

At the first stallion’s signal, the other two fired their blowguns. Instantly, sleeping darts appeared in the necks of the two teenage mares. They were asleep before they knew what hit them. The Pegasus remained sitting up, but the little Earth pony fell over.

Disappointed at the possible disturbance, they waited. If the noise woke anypony, their stakeout would be for nothing. They’d have to come back in force. But after waiting a moment, all appeared clear. Satisfied, the three of them skirted the camp. They would take care of the unicorns next, just in case… Then, the other three Earth ponies would be easy prey.

Ama had spent a year on the continent, much of it alone. There wasn’t much she was particularly afraid of, but her senses were honed. It took little to wake her up. So, when Wilka gasped at the dart in her neck, she stirred. When Orni sluffed over, she woke. She woke just in time to see her fall over. She saw the dart in Wilka’s neck.

Ama waited, staring around the campsite through the folds of her blanket. Three unicorns… stallions… in black were entering the camp. Other than the lightly crackling fire, all was silent. Unsure if anypony was awake, she decided to act.

She bolted up, the blanket wrapped loosely around herself, “RAAAAAAAAAID!”

The stallions were startled, but their experience saved them for a moment. Ama roared, swinging her ball-and-chain she insisted on sleeping with, almost pulping one of them. She tried to get Dragonsquarter. In the commotion, the other mares woke up. Loress was first, followed by Dechaa. Essenta, a deep sleeper, took a few seconds. Zyra’s eyes popped open, and she took a look around before jumping up.

The three stallions had a choice to make: flee or fight. Their experience told them to fight. They’d erased memories before. They could still kill all the mares, bar the princess, and nopony would be the wiser. It may have been wiser if they’d escaped. They may have had a better chance to live to see another sunrise.

The first stallion, had a sword drawn, brandishing it with his magic. The other two had their blowguns and were skilled with them. They fired the blowguns as fast as they could, dancing around the campsite, at the large mare barreling around with the ball-and-chain. She wouldn’t go down. The black-haired mare wouldn’t go down either. This was… not good. Essenta dove for her gear. In her unrest, she couldn’t recall where her dirk was… but she had her cesti…

Dechaa found herself taking on the first stallion, blowing fire from his mouth and trying to gut her with his sword. Her twin swords and teleportation abilities barely kept her out of his reach. The first stallion reflected, what’s going on?! These… aren’t the mares we were sent to kill…

Zyra first went to Wilka and Orni, checking on them. They were unconscious, but otherwise alright. Shielding her friends, she drew the wand Essenta made for her. She sent a bolt at the second stallion, still desperately trying to drop Ama with his darts. It stunned him.

Ama saw her attacker falter, she took the opportunity to kick him, “Loress!”

Loress, taking just as many darts, chasing around the third stallion, saw the second stallion fly towards her. She also saw Ama retrieve her greatsword, which she already had wound-up. Loress caught the second stallion, spinning around, and threw him back to Ama.

Ama gritted her teeth and swung Dragonsquarter with all her power behind it. She caught the stallion with it, practically liquefying some of his trunk, while the rest of him kept on going, spinning and tumbling into the edge of the clearing. What the sword caught, spattered across their camp and into the fire with many a hiss and pop.

Essenta jumped up behind the third stallion, as Loress had been throwing the now very dead stallion, and punched him in the guts. His strong trunk saved him, but he went sprawling, knocking over the first stallion. Dechaa, in great relief, teleported across the clearing to join Essenta and Loress.

Zyra, safely on the opposite side of the fire from the remaining stallions, remained where she was. She turned to her comrades, behind her. They’d just noticed the two young ones were down.

“They’re okay… they’re asleep.”

With this knowledge out of the way, the three mares turned their attention to the stallions. Essenta found her dirk, clamping it between her teeth. Ama, recovering from the almighty swing she unleashed, stood apart from the rest of them, looking murderous.

The stallions, now realizing the gravity of their recent decisions, realized they could either fight and maybe live, or die running away. The last 20 seconds told them all they needed to know about the mares: they’d been given bad intelligence. They were skilled fighters, though. They had a chance.

The stallions and the mares faced off a moment. The first stallion drew from his belt a sawblade on a long chain; he’d taken many a head with it… The third stallion, banged up from Essenta’s cesti, but alive, pulled out two swords. Their horns glowed, brandishing their weapons. Don’t kill the princess…

Essenta and Ama went for the first stallion, while Dechaa and Loress went for the third. Zyra remained on the ground, with their unconscious friends, hoping to make a shot with her wand; she could do little else… The groups clashed.

Ama had to drop her greatsword, just to avoid the sawblade. She weaved around, feeling the blade nick her hide as it was swung around. Essenta was desperate to get in, but realized she wasn’t fast enough to help Ama.

Dechaa and Loress fought their stallion, him in between them. He was fast. Loress could do little more than keep out of his reach; she still had no weapon, and was unskilled in them anyway…

Zyra changed the game. Seeing openings, she fired a one-two, hitting each stallion. The first stallion dropped his sword and went end over end into the edge of the forest. Ama immediately dove closer to Zyra, realizing it was the best place at the moment. The three by the fire were the most at risk.

The third stallion was only staggered, but Dechaa saw an opportunity. She hit him with a magic blast, sending him further than she expected. She’d done it in a panic, but Essenta was ready. So was Loress.

Essenta saw him coming and did the only thing she could. She managed spin him around. Essenta saw Loress… she was ready to “catch” him… Essenta caught him in the back with a kick, sending him sailing into Loress at breakneck speed.

Loress wound up and caught the stallion with an almighty punch in the side, putting all her weight into it. His body doubled over against the seemingly immovable Terran's front leg. Her hoof had gone clear to sunshine, or in this case, firelight. He was dead instantly. He may as well have been shot at a stone wall.

Dechaa had her back to the edge of the woods. She didn’t see the first stallion leaping out of the woods, pulling his chained sawblade back for a killing hit. Zyra saw.

“Dechaa!”

The healer had no time to respond. She didn’t even turn around. She would have lost her head, had Essenta not seen.

“Dechaa!”

Essenta leapt, back legs first, kicking Dechaa out of the way with concussive force. In what should’ve been a futile attempt, she covered her face. For the briefest of seconds, she realized she was going to die, seeing the chained weapon fly towards her. Other than Dechaa and the two unconscious, her comrades saw it as if in slow motion. Their friend… their… princess… was about to die.

But the attempt wasn’t futile. It was pure luck that saved her; there was no other way to explain it. Her cesti caught the projectile, splintering the sawblade. As she traveled after Dechaa, what was left of the sawblade shot back at the stallion, even as he leapt into the camp.

The broken weapon caught him in the side, tearing him open. His body managed to hold together, as he went tumbling amongst the fire. His viscera left a path, from the edge of the clearing, through the flames. The smell from the fire, almost immediate, was shocking.

This had only taken a few seconds. Ama sprang up, screaming and ready to dive after the first stallion, but it was over. Loress was still shaking the third stallion from her hoof, aghast at what she’d done. Zyra looked up, in sickened disbelief at the red now covering her and their downed friends. Essenta was holding Dechaa tightly, having caught her in midair, making sure she herself had landed first.

They had no time to breathe easily. What would happen next would never leave any of their minds, for as long as they lived. Wilka and Orni, in a way, were fortunate they slept through it.

Almost immediately the first stallion screamed, in a mixture of horror and pain; he was still alive…

It was the worst thing Essenta had ever heard in her life. Dechaa huddled closer to her, shaking and whimpering at the noise. Ama looked down at him, dismayed at the sight of him, as she began to tug the darts painfully from her body; she didn’t pity him… not one bit. But his was not an envious position. Loress felt sick, the smell, the sight, the sound, mixing with the taste of iron in the air, was beyond the pale.

Nopony might have guessed what happened next. Something snapped within Zyra. Whether it was the noise, any of the other terrible things invading their senses, the fact some ponies had just tried to murder them all... murder her friends... or something else within her, she stood up with a previously unrealized blackness in her heart.

She stood up and walked with purpose to the stallion. The others, still wrapped up in their own minds, began to notice. Zyra zapped the stallion, eliciting even more awful noise from him, and began to drag him across the clearing with the aid of her horn. She propelled him against a rock, pinning him to it. Quickly, she crudely cauterized his side; the bleeding stopped, but it sure wasn't going to save his life.

“WHO ARE YOU?!”

Her voice… was shocking.

“WHO SENT YOU?! WHO SENT YOU?”

She zapped him again, “Answer me! Who sent you?!”

Essenta ran over, horrified, “Zyra, stop!”

She rounded on Essenta, “Back off, Essenta…”

The fact Zyra looked at her in such a way surprised her almost as much as Zyra calling her by name. Dechaa ran up, just as Zyra had shouted.

“Zyra!”

Zyra turned her lethal gaze to her old friend, “Dechaa… I need your help. Keep him alive… Keep him awake!”

Dechaa blanched, “…Zyra?”

Essenta tried to approach Zyra and her prey, “Zyra… stop. This isn’t-”

Zyra pushed her back with a magical surge, “Stay out of the way. Ama! Come here…”

Ama did as she was bidden. She knew what Zyra was up to, as repugnant as it would be. Essenta tried to stand up. She was bewildered at the sudden violence within her friend. Managing to find her hooves, she bolted to attempt to get to Zyra. She was stopped by Loress.

Loress had a terrified look in her eyes, but she was remaining composed, “No, Essenta.”

Essenta looked up, aghast at the horror in the Terran’s face; she saw Loress peppered with the darts the stallions had been firing, “Loress! We can’t let Zyra-”

Loress shook her, almost hard enough to give her whiplash, “Shut up.”

Essenta was most disturbed at Loress’s manner, at once looking sick and determined. Loress held Essenta down.

“Dechaa… Ama… Do as Zyra tells you. Ama… I think you know what needs to be done, anyway. Do it, both of you!”

Dechaa, looking absolutely sick, trotted over, joining Ama. Ama looked very much at odds, but was prepared.

Essenta struggled under Loress’s immense strength and began to sob, “Loress… How could you-”

Loress again shook her, her own eyes streaming, “Essenta… Get ahold of yourself! We’ve just been attacked. As disgusting as it might be, we need to know what’s going on. If we hadn’t woken up, we’d all be dead now.”

Essenta, still weeping, was listening, “But… Zyra…”

Pressing Essenta to the ground further, Loress spat, “Don’t concern yourself with her terrors right now. If she’s willing to extract information from that unicorn stallion, we need to let her do it. He needs to stay alive long enough. And Ama knows what she’s doing…”

Essenta went limp and didn’t protest further. Loress now felt even more ill. She staggered off Essenta and threw up, just shy of her.

“Essenta… get up. You and I need to keep watch… If it’s any solace, be thankful the young ones aren’t awake to see this…”

Essenta understood that and got up. It was shocking, seeing what lay before her. But she looked to the forest, watching for any sign of movement. Loress steeled herself and walked to the other side of the campsite. There, she watched in the other direction. As she began to find and pull out the numerous darts stuck in her hide, she knew she wouldn’t have been able to do what Zyra and the other two were doing. Both attempted in vain to block out what was happening.

It wasn’t pretty. Dechaa looked on in wide-eyed horror. She was using a very strong spell just to keep him alive, and one she was barely able to maintain, keeping him awake. But both she did.

Ama was aiding in the interrogation. He was in such bad shape, she mainly questioned him and gave Zyra advice. Zyra was willing to do anything, she found, without hesitation. Ama had seen how damaged Zyra was in some ways and knew this could break the little mage. But this had to be done and the stallion wouldn’t stand up to any Mazan techniques, as close as he was to death.

Zyra zapped him again, and they could see smoke rising from his damaged body.

“Who sent you?” she was much calmer now, at least on the surface; perhaps it would be more accurate to say she had gained control over herself.

The stallion, as much pain as he was in, “Fuck you, little mage.”

That got him another zap, this time more intense. His screams assaulted their ears. Even Ama, ready, willing, and able to go through with this, felt weak in the knees. Dechaa was perhaps too far gone to do anything but wait until it was over. Essenta wanted to cover her ears but had to maintain her watch. Loress, weeping silently, tried to do the same.

Zyra put a hoof to his face. She channeled her energy through it, branding him as if with a hot iron. This really got a reaction out of him.

Ama reeled at the smell of burning hair, but, “Tell us who sent you and who you are…”

He still refused, coughing and shaking, “Go to Hell, the three of you…”

Ama popped him one in the jaw, knocking out a few teeth, “The only one going there is you. Tell us what we want to hear, and it will be an easier journey for you…”

“You have nothing to threaten me with. I won’t be around much longer anyway, with your friend’s weak attempt at keeping-”

Zyra hit him again, silencing him, other than more of the same bloodcurdling screaming it provoked.

Zyra took a deep breath; she spoke in a toneless voice, “Ama… stand back. Dechaa, I’m going to get an answer out of him. Try your best to keep him conscious… Better stand back too."

Dechaa and Ama both did as they were told. Dechaa sat down, closing her eyes in concentration. She wouldn’t want to see what Zyra was about to do anyway. Ama would have given a great deal to not have seen it... or had it invade her other senses. Essenta and Loress would regret looking back, out of their horrified curiosity, when they should've kept their eyes on their surroundings.

Zyra set him on fire. It was a controlled burn, keeping away from his most vital areas. His screams, high-pitched and ratlike, were unlike anything any of the mares had ever heard, other than Zyra herself… when she was a little filly...

Ama’s knees buckled, but she managed to keep her footing. Dechaa somehow managed to maintain her concentration, possibly only because her eyes were shut. But she could feel his pain; she’d felt it the entire interrogation. Essenta and Loress quaked but managed not to faint. The smell permeating throughout the camp was indescribable.

The stallion yelled out, unintelligible at first. Zyra let up, urging Dechaa to give him an extra dose, to keep him coherent.

“…‘Fire Breathers’… I’m a ‘Fire Breather’…”

Ama was the only one to see. Zyra’s eyes showed a stricken light.

“I see… I know of you… Who hired you? Who sent you after us?”

“I… don’t know.”

Zyra lit him up again; this time he barely responded. Ama realized before Zyra did… he could no longer feel pain on most of his body; his nerve endings had been destroyed.

Dechaa’s horn was faltering; she was shaking, “I’m losing him… Zyra… I’m losing him.”

Zyra turned to her, her eyes no longer dead, but desperate, “I need 30 seconds. Try…”

And try she did. She put everything she had into it, hating herself every second of the way. This time, Zyra burned out his eyes; he still needed to hear and talk. Pulling out of him a markedly weaker scream, she let up after a few seconds. He was close to gone. Ama had to turn away; it was her limit of what she could take. Essenta and Loress hadn't looked back since their last unfortunate glance, but they could hear.

Zyra came close to him, “Who. Hired. You?”

He coughed; gasping, his features now quite unlike they were 10 seconds earlier, “…I don’t know… It was just a job…”

“Tell me!”

She lit him up one last time, only to see no response. Ama shook her.

“Zyra… he is gone. It is over…”

Zyra looked back to Dechaa. Dechaa was barely able to stand, unable to maintain her spells any longer. She vomited, having given her all. Zyra turned around, beginning to shake. A ragged sob built in her throat and she screamed furiously, tearing up the ground around her. She fell to her knees, quaking.

Essenta and Loress dared approach. The stallion was smoking beside the rock, blood and ashes coating where he’d been pinned. Ama stood, feeling helpless, watching Dechaa reel. Nopony dared move to Zyra for the moment.

Loress, steeling herself, called to the company, “We can’t stay here. I don't know if it's over but we can't stay here. Gather up our supplies. I’ll pull the wagon.”

Whether or not this was the best plan, nopony could say. They were very shaken. Essenta and Ama quickly gathered their goods, almost unaware of their hooves. Loress lifted Wilka and Orni onto the wagon. Then she helped Dechaa to her hooves, settling her on the wagon, giving her a jug of water on which to sip. Having pushed the wagon to the trail, Loress saddled up. Essenta was about to douse the fire, while Ama went to get Zyra, to put her on the wagon.

Zyra suddenly started, “Leave the fire…”

Both were so shocked to hear her speak, they halted. Zyra stood up, drawing from the fire. Glancing to the rock they’d used in the interrogation, she began to write upon it, in blood and fire:

“'Fire Breathers': I will kill all of you. Someday, I will find you and I will wipe you off the face of the Earth. Death will be a mercy. There will be no saving you.”

At the bottom of her message, she drew a large dot, surrounded by three expanding circles. On the line of the first circle, she placed two dots, on the second, six, and on the outer circle, eight. Essenta knew what it was…

“Argon”… It was a representation of her namesake, the element Argon.

Turning from the rock, she further horrified her companions by gathering up what remained of the stallions and dumping them on the fire. She cast a final spell, engulfing them in a blue pillar of fire. The sight was unbelievable. The flame was high and practically roared at them, but it didn't burn them. The pillar rose above the forest canopy. It was... a message, just as much as the writing on the rock had been. Zyra then crawled onto the wagon, lay on her side, curled up, and cried.

Loress had been second-guessing herself about their leaving; it may have been best to hunker down and see what happened next. But Zyra's rage-filled actions sealed it... The noise the stallion had made would have either scared off trouble, or attracted worse trouble; in the outrageous situation, neither unicorn had thought to establish a sound barrier around camp. The pillar would be visible for untold miles; they had to run. Looking back, Essenta felt another wave of sickness come over her, but she managed to swallow it back down. Taking point, she began to trot down the trail, Loress and the wagon behind her, with Ama taking up the rear. The last 15 minutes was something none of them would ever forget.

Author's Note

Check out the Appendix for Princess Essenta, updated as the story moves along. It shows the story's timeline and character designs. Contains spoilers.

A rather unpleasant development for Essenta's little company, but their journey was never going to be nothing but fun and games.

Next time, the girls attempt to get someplace safe and contemplate their situation, while King Dale and Lord Radulf come to realize their substantial failure.

If you enjoy Princess Essenta, please take a look at my other stories, Larkspur Blossom and The Virgin Company, if you haven't.

Watch for the next chapter in a week.

Like or comment if desired. I'd like to know what folks think of the story.

Thanks for reading, and take care.

Chapter 17: Unpleasant Truths

Troubles Arc

It was Saturday. The company had moved as far away from that horrible bloodbath they left behind three days previously, as was possible. Moving as quickly, and as often, as they deemed safe, they'd covered almost 200 miles in about 60 hours... and less than 10 of that was spent resting. That's a good pace if you've never used your hooves. They’d slept little, those that managed to escape the worst of the damage they’d endured.

Zyra was in a near catatonic state, even after nearly three days. Dechaa had to feed her, which Zyra didn’t refuse, but didn’t really cooperate either. At night, she now had nightmares and terrors, infrequent for most of the trip, continuously. Dechaa tended to her as best as she could, as she was the only one who seemed able to soothe her. She was only able to sleep while Zyra was awake. Not only would the noise possibly give away their already poorly concealed position... the noise was wearing on the girls' minds. They were scared... as if running in darkness.

Wilka and Orni would take more than a couple days to recover. There wasn’t really anything Dechaa could do for them. It was a slow poison to force through their systems. About all they could do was eat and sleep, even after the toxins had apparently been expelled. It was unlike anything Dechaa had seen before, having tried to isolate whatever it was. She succeeded, but it was a poor sample. If they’d not left the campsite in such a hurry, she’d have had mind to check the stallions’ supplies, if only to know what they were dealing with. But leaving that Hell on Earth behind them seemed more pressing at the time… She'd just about clocked out anyway, assisting Zyra and Ama.

With Zyra, Wilka, and Orni out of commission, riding on the wagon, only Essenta, Dechaa, Ama, and Loress were able to keep watch on things. And Dechaa spent most of the day sleeping; there was no other way for her to keep up her strength. They needed her able to cast protection spells at night. Even with Zyra’s best spells, those three stallions made their way into camp easily. They'd decided that three of them would be awake at all times. And with only four of them able to do anything, it was getting more difficult as the hours passed.

They were becoming exhausted. The one saving grace was the lightening charm on the wagon was holding. Essenta, Ama, and Loress took turns pulling it, causing no extra fatigue. Low on food, they had to get to a town. There they could rest in relative safety and replenish their supplies. Autumn was making its presence known, even as far south as they were. Unfamiliar flora dominated the landscape, but wild fruit was illusive.

Essenta's thoughts were hounded by her apparent failure. Wilka and Orni, the town sweethearts of Renata, whom she promised to look out for, were barely able to move on their own... Zyra, her friend for a decade, had tumbled off the edge of sanity for a time. Their mostly carefree trip had taken an awful turn.

That night, they stopped at what was apparently an abandoned quarry, unused for many decades. Hoping to make it a little further down the road, they couldn't go any farther. They'd go crazy or start dropping in the open if they didn't stop and rest. They found a cave, which led to a silver mine. Briefly exploring the cave and its system, they found themselves alone. Essenta and Ama quickly gathered firewood, while Loress set up camp. Dechaa put up protection spells to the outside, and to the inside of their chosen site.

Within an hour, they were settled in. Essenta and Loress were consulting a map by firelight, while Ama made a soup with their dwindling rations, thickened by some cress found in a weedy patch. Dechaa set about to doing what she could for their newest members and steeled herself for another night with Zyra. At least she could tend to Zyra on solid ground; the incessant jostle of the wagon could still be felt in her body.

According to the map, they were only 30 miles from the next town. And it was no small town. Silas was a trading hub, with many inns, landmarks, and restaurants. If the girls were in better spirits, it would have been a fun visit. Now it was a necessity. They had to rest. They needed shelter. They needed a few days of relative safety to ease their frazzled nerves. The cave was the best thing they’d stay in or around since Renata, and the only real stop since the attack, but did little to set them to peace. That night, of course, they would discuss the attack again. It would be the third night in a row, reliving that awful mess. That's what their "resting" consisted of... misery and worry. At least they'd get more sleep that night.

While Dechaa fed their patients, the rest sat around the fire they’d built. They wished to help Dechaa, but her magic was an aid, while their clumsy hooves were a hindrance. Essenta sat, slowly eating her soup; it tasted like ashes in her mouth… She felt… foolish. This really was a fool’s errand. A few days before, they’d been having a lovely time, fresh off meeting new friends. And now…

She looked over to Zyra, not looking forward to whatever may happen when she finally came to her senses. She felt a hoof on her shoulder. It was Loress. The Terran gave a sympathetic look, but one of unmistakable firmness. Don’t dwell on that, right now… there are other things to be concerned with…

Finishing their dinner, and cleaning up, Dechaa joined them, having put the others to bed.

Essenta sighed, feeling her meal sit unhappily, “Okay… if we leave at dawn, we should be able to make the next town by midday, even at a slow go. Once we’re there, we can hole up somewhere for a few days. Maybe then, things will be a little clearer.”

This was about the best news they could hope for. Loress sat sadly, not wanting to start in on the discussion, but wanting to get it over with.

“Dechaa… what else do you know about these ‘Fire Breathers’?”

Dechaa rubbed her temples, “Not much else other than what I said. They were a mercenary band that largely disappeared about seven years ago. I say largely, because they still make their presence known. Nopony knows who… or what leads them, but he’s said to be a monster. He disappeared nine years ago... soon after the war... They were hired by the Confederation of the Dale for numbers. They... instigated some... pretty awful things.”

Essenta didn’t mean to be an ass, “Yes… But what I want to know, is what the Hell was Zyra writing all that on the rock about? And that ‘pyre’? It was sick. Just sick…”

Dechaa looked most unhappy, “I was able to get something out of Zyra today when she was… suggestible. And it’s something I’d never tell any of you if circumstances didn’t seem as they are. The ‘Fire Breathers’… were the ones that destroyed Zyra’s village.”

Essenta reeled and saw her vision invert. Her skin crawled. Ama and Loress looked grim.

Dechaa went on, “It’s all she said. But it more than explains what she did after we… found out who he was. In the war, it's believed somepony within the Confederation had a vendetta against the village... and it must be who they hired. It's one of the reasons your father was so criticized for... hiring mercenaries. They'd do anything they were paid to do, even... Sen… I don’t know how to help her…”

Ama kneaded Dechaa’s shoulder as the unicorn began to weep. It was a very painful thing for the Dale folk; an ally sent a contingent of their own mercenary forces to wipe out a town within the Confederation of the Valley... some of the very ponies they'd been payed to protect in the first place. Nopony knew which group of mercs it was... Zyra was the only survivor and was either unwilling or unable to relay the information. But she surely remembered now. Loress looked on, wanting to move along. Her normal flappable disposition gave way to her being the strongest voice and spirit in this time.

“We can think about that later. You are doing what you can. But we need to get to the bottom of this. Who sent those stallions after us?”

Essenta sat, feeling sick. She knew who it may have been, but she’d spent the better part of the last three days trying to convince herself otherwise… or at least not think about it. Knowing they had to ease their way into this messy discourse, Ama led.

“The only sure thing we know is it was a job. As far as Dechaa has told us, those so-called mercenaries were not bandits. And they did not function as such. They were far too skilled to be run-of-the-mill robbers. Somepony hired them to kill us.”

Loress desired less beating around the bush, “Were they hired to kill all of us? Or just some of us? The poison they used… it was meant to neutralize, not kill. I can't hold it against Wilka and Orni... what happened to them. It could have been any one of us. We were dealing with... assassins. These stallions knew their business. But they didn’t know what they were getting into. If they’d known anything about us… they’d have known Ama and I weren’t just a couple of tall Earth pony mares. Even if they'd been watching us, somepony gave them bad information… Very bad.”

Loress still wasn’t able to come out and say it.

Dechaa took a crack at it, drying her tears, “The poison, what I could figure out, knocks out anypony with no Terran blood. Your Terran blood saved you. Loress can’t really even get drunk, and Ama takes a lot to even feel it. You’re both good at processing poisons. But that’s not what concerns me. They could have poisoned us outright, with intent to kill. There are plenty of poisons, things I could cook up in a few minutes, that could kill anything that walks or crawls. They were looking for something, or someone. They could have found the thing they wanted, and slit all our throats…”

Essenta grew tired of this; she wanted to just address it, “And who of all ponies would have the desire to take one of us, while killing everypony else?”

The rest stared back at her, knowingly, but with no joy in it. It was a Hell of a thing, stating somepony’s father would do such a thing.

Dechaa treaded carefully, “Sen… we can’t be sure it was… your father who sent them after us.”

Essenta, on the verge of tears for a time, broke, “Oh… I know it was him. And you know it too, Dechaa.”

Essenta didn’t say this lightly. She knew it in her heart, as much as she didn’t want to believe it.

Dechaa tried again, “Sen… I know how it looks, but… to accuse him without hard evidence…”

Essenta wiped her eyes, “You know our history better than me, and I still know this. You said it yourself, just a moment ago... Who hired the ‘Fire Breathers’ during the last war? When the Confederation needed extra soldiers, who did they hire?”

Dechaa knew the answer, as well as anypony, “Your father and his compatriots hired the ‘Fire Breathers’…”

Essenta was pale, “And what did the ‘Fire Breathers’ do in western Joeh? What did they do with my father?”

Dechaa didn’t want to say, “…Rumors tell us-”

“Fuck rumors! My father led 30 stallions there, with the ‘Fire Breathers’ in tow. Four towns were razed. 17… 17! stallions deserted on the way back from Joeh. Seven resigned and left the Dale, along with their families. And the rest killed themselves! Guess how many of them had families? Seven… Don’t you tell me what my father’s capable and not capable of…”

Dechaa had a hard time arguing with this… there was nothing much to say. They had no real proof, but there was no denying the possibility. Dechaa sat miserably. The idea of King Dale condemning Zyra and herself to such an end… along with everypony else? The thought was too much to bear.

For the first time, Essenta thought about never returning home. Nopony had anything else to say that night. They simply sat there, stricken, staring into the fire until they felt like going to sleep, or in Dechaa’s case, keeping an eye on Zyra. Seeing the little mage doze fitfully gave her a window to the miserable night they’d be having together.

Loress volunteered to keep watch first. Ama was already snoring. Essenta lay down, wrapped up in her blanket, as Zyra began to fuss. In about two hours she'd have watch... Ama had the small fortune of getting a full four hours of sleep, on dawn patrol. Covering her head, she wished more than ever she’d just behaved herself and played princess in the Dale. If she’d behaved herself, perhaps she would be then, as she lay in a smelly cave in some far-flung part of the continent, not unhappily married to Prince Askle. Rolling over, she thought it may not have been so bad.

King Dale sat in his study. It had been a good two weeks since he had last spoken with Lord Radulf. Neither of them had known how long Essenta and her friends would stay in that town, but King Dale had given them the go-ahead to strike when they thought appropriate. He’d spent a few hours every night, alone, waiting for news.

His decision to go ahead with things didn’t bother him. He’d made up his mind to bring Essenta home, even if it meant keeping her locked up in secret. The world wouldn’t see her, or her friends again. But he could still sell her off somewhere. Somewhere… Anywhere… Nowhere… He now even contemplated just giving her to Lord Radulf. Nopony would ever hear from her again… Still undecided, his crystal ball glowed. The moment he’d been waiting for two entire weeks arrived.

Lord Radulf appeared in the sphere. He looked… disturbed. King Dale had never seen him even the slightest bit off.

“Aodh… What is it?”

Lord Radulf mumbled, then croaked, “Ansgar… my best agents… they’re all dead.”

King Dale felt a shiver, “What?”

“They’re dead… Your daughter… and her friends… slaughtered them.

This didn’t sound much like Essenta.

“What happened?!”

“We don’t know… They picked up two more ponies, some little Pegasus and an Earth pony, but nopony else, in the town. My stallions staked out, and attacked a few nights ago… We found them this morning. I don’t see how a few Earth ponies, a couple unicorns, and a Pegasus could do this… Whatever’s traveling with your daughter… it took about 30 sleeping darts. The only ponies that can take sleeping darts are… Terrans.”

“So, she has a Terran? I don’t care about some Terran! Get ahold of yourself, Aodh! And tell me what happened.”

Lord Radulf looked back, a stricken look in his eyes, “They… were torn apart… disemboweled… The fire mage… stacked them up on their firepit and left them there! The flame she conjured up… a blue pillar reaching to the sky. I’ve never seen such dark magic.”

King Dale gawked, “Dark magic? What could she have possibly done to scare you?”

“Ansgar… she knows who we are.”

King Dale just about soiled himself, “We? What do you mean…?”

“She… tortured one of my stallions… The fire she left us was a message. It didn’t burn my agents further, but she… set one on fire while he was living! She left us another message. She said she’d kill us all… that there would be no saving us. She signed with… a symbol. ‘Argon’.”

King Dale was confused, “So? You never told your agents why they were doing this. What’s that mean to me?”

“Not you… me. The name Argon rang a bell, but I wasn’t sure until I saw her sign. I saw it, years ago… I destroyed her town… The symbol was above her father’s house…”

“What’s the point of this? How does it concern me?!”

“Your daughter escaped. She… may know you sent us.”

“What?!”

“Look at the pieces, Ansgar.”

King Dale raged, “You will help me sort this out!”

Lord Radulf shook his head, “I will do no such thing. And I will not pursue your daughter any longer. Ansgar… never try to contact me again. Consider any debt I owed you paid. Leave me to my orchards…”

The crystal ball blanked out. It took all of King Dale’s willpower not to cast it against the wall. He needed it yet…

Retiring to his throne, he continued to think. Worst case scenario, she suspected he sent the “Fire Breathers”. But even he knew she had no proof. But he’d sent them there, to kill everypony but her…

Still, what would Essenta do? Come back and slit his throat?

The idea filled him with fear. He knew Lord Radulf wasn’t lying. It took a lot to scare Lord Radulf, and whatever it may have been, King Dale had no idea what it was. Lord Radulf was the most dangerous pony he knew, by far.

King Dale was unsure of many things, but he was sure of one thing. He’d once again underestimated his daughter. She had a Terran along for the ride, and possibly worse, judging by the carnage described. And what was worse than a Terran?

The little voice in his head spoke, a Knollwing… or a dragon.

But the Pegasus with them was no Knollwing. Even if she was, their magic had failed. There was nothing special about them anymore.

So, what in Hell had his daughter found? Was Zyra Argon really capable of what he’d just heard? And where did this leave him? He would turn this over in his mind until sleep took him.

Author's Note

Check out the Appendix for Princess Essenta, updated as the story moves along. It shows the story's timeline and character designs. Contains spoilers.

A half-day's walking away from relief, Essenta's company must face some hard possibilities. What will they do once they get to the next town? How will they handle what they know in their hearts? What will King Dale do, with his surest gamble stacked up on a pyre, scaring off the worst ponies he'd ever had the (mis)fortune of knowing?

Next time, the girls try to put the pieces of their little company back together. Help comes from a most unexpected source.

For those that went looking for Chapter 16 when it showed up in the feed on St. Patrick's Day, I apologize. The "Edit" and "Publish" buttons are close to one another. It wasn't ready, so I pulled it back until it was so.

If you enjoy Princess Essenta, please take a look at my other major story, Larkspur Blossom, if you haven't.

Also look for The Virgin Company, a tale of a Pegasus officer leading a fresh platoon in a war many years in the past.

Like or comment if desired. I'd like to know what folks think of the story.

Watch for the next chapter in the coming week. And be patient with the current dreariness. Things will get better for the little company.

Chapter 18: The Town of Silas

Troubles Arc

Loress sat in the town square across from Dechaa. The two found themselves… running Essenta’s little company for the time being. They’d been in Silas a week. It had been a week-and-a-half since the night raid on their camp. Feeling she’d grown eyes in the back of her head, Loress didn’t feel much at ease. Everything gave her the shakes.

Things hadn’t been great for their party. Whatever Wilka and Orni had been poisoned by was still knocking them for a loop. Dechaa had been worried; she was still unable to figure out what the poison was. She’d done blood work and managed to isolate whatever it was, but there was no identifying it.

There were ponies around that could probably help her with it, but they were desperate to remain hidden and anonymous if possible. They had no idea, of course, the atrocity Zyra had left at their old camp scared away one of the most feared mercenary/assassination guilds on the continent. So, they remained more than a little cautious.

The two young ones were weak and inactive; their leg muscles had atrophied noticeably. Dechaa spent several hours a day just exercising their bodies, so things wouldn’t seize up. Loress was no healer, but she had been helpful in keeping them moving. It was a very easy thing for her to assist either of them in walking. They were at least getting better.

Loress wished she could say the same about Zyra. Her night terrors and episodes had dwindled to only a few minutes each night. She slept most of the night. She slept many hours each day, as well. When she wasn’t sleeping, she lay in her bed, staring at the wall. Again, Dechaa was unsure what to do for her. It was beyond her knowledge.

There was no denying, even after the initial shock of somepony trying to murder them in their sleep, what Zyra had done was sick… And not the interrogation. That had to happen, as awful as it was. It was the makeshift pyre she left for whatever unfortunate might come across it… or whomever sent the assassins. It was a tremendous lack of prudence, fueled by whatever was going on in the mind of the little mage. Zyra had declared war, and war with some murderers’ guild was not something they could handle.

Dechaa had known Zyra for years. She knew the happy-go-lucky unicorn had a lot of hidden hurts, but not a side like what they’d seen. It wasn’t Zyra… or maybe it was her truest self. One could wrap the mind around it and never figure it out. All she knew was it was a powerful rage that allowed Zyra to do the things she’d done.

Dechaa and Loress tried to put these things out of their minds, but it was hard. Their breakfasts sat before them, growing cold.

“Loress, did Ama go to the forest again?”

Loress poked at her fried potatoes, “Yes. She left at dawn.”

Ama had been spending much of the week out at a logging operation. Loress had trimmed up her mane, tail, and dyed her hair its natural color. Ama didn’t take being holed up well and was happy to get some exercise. Being out there also kept her mind off the troubles they were dealing with. Ama told the foresters she was just a Mazan on her birth journey, had met a party she was traveling with, and was looking to make some money while they were in the area.

There was nothing at all unusual about this; Mazans were uncommon, but not rare, to see, and they needed money just as much as anypony. The foreman, blown away by her power, was gleeful to have her for a time. Dechaa and Loress were glad she had some satisfaction.

Dechaa and Loress worked in a kitchen, which was what they were doing now. Loress may have done something more fitting her strength, but she decided to hide that fact she was a Terran. The potential notoriety was unwanted. Their “boss” had given them a break, explaining their current location.

They’d been worried about leaving their three invalids alone in the cottage they’d been renting. Who knew what Zyra might do? But Wilka and Orni, still weak, could keep an eye on her. They’d set up a system, using a handful of orbs Dechaa managed to enchant, to communicate.

Wilka kept one, as did Dechaa and Ama. Any problem arising could be communicated quickly.

One may notice Essenta hasn't been mentioned much. The reason Loress and Dechaa were sort of running things was their leader was in no shape to do it. It was something they did dwell on, as they might have had a chance to stop it.

Once they’d found a safe place to bunk, Dechaa, Loress, and Ama set about looking for work. They had to keep up appearances as “travelers looking to make some money for their trip”. They were probably the wealthiest ponies in town but had to look like they were getting money from somewhere. A bunch of traveling mares holing up in a cottage together wasn’t terribly odd, if they blended in. And that they did. Regardless, nopony even knew Zyra, Wilka, and Orni were with them. They barely knew Essenta was with them.

Essenta, once settled in, went to a pub, sat down, and never left it. Money wasn’t the concern. Ale was cheap, and even the most destitute pony with a few pieces of silver could drink for a week. And Essenta had plenty of scratch in her pocket: it was hers… not of their coffers. She drank and drank and drank. Loress had tried more than once to pull her away, succeeding in doing so. But the second her back was turned, Essenta would already be back at the barstool, another ale in her hoof.

It got to the point after a day or two of this, Dechaa and Loress gave up. They didn’t want to, but they realized they could do nothing. Essenta was in a deep funk, and it would take some doing to pull her out of it. The knowledge her father, the king, probably sent assassins to kill her friends and ponynap her, had her shaken up. On top of that, one of her oldest friends unleashed her inner demons on one of their attackers. That had been something to see...

Much of the reason was the blood. While Essenta hadn’t directly killed anypony, she surely contributed. Only the second time Ama had ever killed, and the first time Loress had killed, they were all shaken. The stallion Zyra "interviewed" was certainly helped on his way to Hell… But other than Zyra falling off the world’s edge for a time, Essenta was the only one reacting in such a way.

Dechaa, for a couple years, had been toying with the idea Essenta had a drinking problem. Now, she was sure of it, having seen the last week. She wasn't really in denial... it just took a lot of convincing for her to admit to some things. The fact Essenta had a problem was apparent to Loress the first or second night they were in Renata…

They had to do something. Essenta would sit there and literally drink herself to death if allowed. And both of them knew Loress laying into her a bit wouldn't make a difference this time. Essenta was beyond that. But for now, their boss called them back to the kitchen. Planning on looking in on their sodden leader, they would do so once their shift ended.

Essenta stared into the dregs of her mug. She hadn’t been keeping track of the ale she drank, but the old unicorn tending the bar had: she’d had no less than 15 pints a day the entire week. She was his best customer. She had money, didn’t cause much fuss, and was rarely without drink.

He didn’t even kick her out most nights; she’d taken up in the alley and he couldn’t stand to see some young mare out there. She’d just sleep in a booth and start again the next morning. He’d even given her bread and cheese, to have something else in her system. He’d seen ponies on liquid diets, and they didn’t live all that long.

For the second time in her life, and in the last month, no less, Essenta let somepony else besides Dechaa call her “Sen”. The name wasn’t uncommon, and the bartender had to call her something.

Essenta had a moment of clarity; they weren’t happening too often, but a thought entered her mind, “Noach… what day is it?”

The barkeep looked up; it was the first thing his best customer had said all day, other than pointing and grunting at the cask of ale in the corner, “Today’s Saturday, Sen. 9:30 a.m.”

Muddled as her mind had been lately, she was more there than not. She and her initial crew left the Dale on a Sunday. She could still figure it out. She’d been away from the Dale for 41 days… just shy of six weeks.

Essenta opened up her throat, pouring the remainder of her mug straight down her gullet. She’d found a couple days before she could do it, without having to swallow… If only her old friends in the Dale could see their princess now.

Noach grimaced, “It’s awful, seeing a young mare do that… Even some of the most ambitious drunks never achieve that ability, and you’ve figured it out in a single bender!”

Essenta let out a low belch, very guttural in its quality; she tossed another chunk of silver coin on the bar, “Piss up a rope, Noach, and draw me another.”

He did, more and more unwilling to do so as the days had passed. He stood there, watching her. The pub technically wasn’t even open yet. Didn’t open until lunchtime. Yet his new “friend” had been at it for two hours already. He reasoned she hadn’t been sober since… Monday.

The very pretty, but frazzled mare that sat down earlier in the week sure didn’t look so anymore. She had faded fast, now with bags under her eyes and a rank odor about her. Noach recalled her two friends that had ceased to show up. They were very beautiful, the black-haired mare astonishingly so, and his supposed tenant looked even more hellish alongside them. He found he missed them, watching his little visitor falling apart… He’d never seen such gorgeous mares in his life.

Putting a small loaf of rye bread and grapes in front of Essenta, she mumbled her thanks and scarfed it all down, quickly returning to the ale. She took occasional hits, murmuring to herself and nodding off occasionally.

After a time, she got up and paddled to the outhouse he kept out back. She’d literally been going like a horse. Watching the mare weave across the floor had him wondering why he kept a bar. Certainly, he made his money off such ponies; selling alcohol was his means to live. But he’d seen so many ruin or continue to ruin their lives sucking down the tasty, tasty poison he made and/or supplied.

Noach had been thinking for the last couple days, and he decided it was high time for him to have a serious chat with the erstwhile pretty mare. He knew what he needed for… an effective talk.

Essenta sat back down. Noach stood across from her. She looked up at him, noticing him after a bit.

“What is it, Noach? Did I manage to shit on my forehead or something?”

He was unamused, “My dear, I think you should get back to your friends already.”

She glowered at him, her bloodshot eyes wobbling, “How many times are you gonna say that today? I don’t wanna…”

He pulled her mug away from her.

“C’mon… I paid you for that and it’s only half-empty!” Essenta hooved her way across the bar top to retrieve the precious amber fluid.

He came down to her eye-level and stared right at her, “I think you have other things to do than sit around here, Princess Essenta.”

The little switch in her head, that hadn’t gone off in a while, popped. She did it without even thinking. She dragged him over the bar, pinning Noach to the floor, pulling out her dirk she’d not parted with for the last seven days. She applied pressure to Noach’s neck. Her brother Abetelles had showed her; a unicorn’s magic would fall off when the spot was pressed. She hadn’t forgotten, and had plenty of practice when her moronic brother, Durenes, acted up.

Brandishing the dirk between her teeth, choking him with her free hoof, “Explain yourself. I may have been drunk the last six days, but I never told you who I really was. Who in the blue fuck are you?! How do you know who I am?!”

Noach grimaced and choked, unable to talk. He feebly pointed to his horn, sending out a couple harmless sparks. Essenta was furious; he’d been reading her mind! It was a rare gift, even among the highest tier of unicorns. The fact Dechaa had a strong grasp on magical empathy was amazing, but an actual, factual, fucking psychic?!

She glowered at him, “I’m going to release your throat… You have about ten seconds to explain yourself. Call out for help and I’ll show you your own heart!”

Having been released, Noach gasped, “It’ll take longer than that. Please hear me out.”

Essenta eased up but maintained the pressure point. She investigated him. She wasn’t as perceptive as Dechaa, but something deep down told her to trust him.

“…I’m going to let you up. We will talk. But if you do anything funny, just know that you’ll leave your share of blood on the floor…”

He relaxed a little, “Agreed.”

He wasn’t about to “give his word”; she didn’t want to hear it, he could tell. She let him up and he went back to his side of the bar. He hoofed Essenta’s pint back to her, but she nudged it away. It was clear she was ready to discuss things.

She looked at him, with more clarity than not, “I really hate when ponies read my mind…”

“I’m… sorry. Even if I don’t mean to, I can’t help it sometimes… especially when somepony’s under my roof for a week. Your thoughts are… rather ‘loud’, Princess.”

“Just keep calling me ‘Sen’.”

He attempted a little smile, “As your dear old friend, Dechaa, does.”

Her eyes flared, “Let’s just talk… I don’t know everything you’ve seen… or… ‘heard’, but what’s your game? Why bring it up if you knew I’d just probably try to kill you?”

He looked sad, “Sen… you may have sent an enemy to his doom, but you’re no killer. You and your friends are torn up inside…”

“What do you know…? Of course… It doesn’t take you long to see things, does it?”

“No, Sen. But it does take a while to see a bigger picture. I’ve not been able to see anything you haven’t been reflecting heavily upon.”

She couldn’t help but sneer at him, “And what do my friends have cooking in their heads?”

“They’re sad, Sen… They’re worried about your little mage… and the two young ones. They’re also very worried for you.”

This did strike Essenta, but only a little; she was still rather numb, “Please… tell me what your game is… Tell me who you are.”

“Fine. I’m Noach. Before running this pub, I was a healer in the Joeh Army… You no doubt know of that…”

Essenta felt sick, suddenly, “You… you’re from Joeh?”

“Yes, Sen… And I don’t need to remind you of what that might entail. You don’t need to dwell on it anymore than you have. Your father’s sins are not yours. I can say the same of the ‘Fire Breathers’. None of it is your fault; don't blame yourself.”

Essenta couldn’t help herself. Thinking about the last big war, the casualties, what her father had probably done, and all the horrible pieces were fitting together. She wept. Noach put a hoof on hers, patting it. He gave her a mug of water. She eagerly took it, thankful for a drink of something else.

“After that awful experience… trying to help ponies during the border raids, I quit. I couldn’t take it anymore. Your friend, Dechaa, can feel things, faintly. I can feel, hear, and see things. It was the most horrible thing imaginable and there was no escaping it. It was all around. But I couldn’t turn my back on ponies in need. So, I opened this place.”

Essenta gawped. Open a pub to help ponies. Horseshit.

Noach couldn’t help but grin a little, “No horseshit, Sen… Ponies often seek out such places when they are in need. It may not be ideal, but they do come here. You’re not the first pony, not by a stretch, I’ve spoken to in such a way. Usually, I just give them advice, or steer them where it may be best for them, but… sometimes I’m straight about it. Sometimes ponies need to know. You and your friends need help. What you girls went through last week…”

Essenta, trying to dry her tears, cried, “But why? Why help us? And why wait an entire week to bring it up?!”

Noach shook his head, “Truly, I don’t know. I… just like to help. It’s probably that I’ve… seen and heard the worst of what this world has to offer us. I… can deal with it. But if I can save others from their suffering, or at least ease their pain, then it gives some meaning to this miserable gift I have. And I feel better when I know I can make a difference. As far as waiting… I felt, this morning, you were finally ready to hear it.”

Essenta sniffled, still rubbing at her eyes, “I’m a mess, Noach… I don’t even know where to begin…”

Noach patted her hoof, “Sen, you have things pretty well figured out. There’s not much I can help you with. You’re stronger than you think you are. Your friends still seek to follow you, and they haven’t given up on you. Just… ease up on the booze, some. But your friends need help… especially your mage. I think I can help your young ones, too.”

Essenta wasn’t sure. Sure, she was desperate, but…

He smiled at her, “Please, Sen. Trust me. I want to help.

Dechaa and Loress were walking to the pub. It was noon, and they’d finished their shift at the kitchen. It might have been futile, but they decided to try to convince Essenta to leave the bar. Perhaps she was sick of it and would come with them just out of boredom. They were wrong on all accounts.

Essenta was still at the bar, and she still wasn’t sober, but she had a clarity they hadn’t seen all week. She had bathed and put on a fresh tunic. Her eyes, tired and bloodshot, had regained much of their confidence.

Noach watched Essenta approach her friends, both smelling of baking bread and old dishwater, and apologize. He was glad to see Essenta had cleaned herself up. She looked every bit the pretty princess he’d first met, if less frazzled.

“Girls… I’m sorry. I’ve been stupid all week and nopony needed that. But I’ve had enough sitting around. I think… there’s a way to help Zyra… maybe Wilka and Orni as well.”

Still a little surprised at finding their leader in a better place, but alarmed she was using their real names, Loress was more than a little skeptical, “What are you talking about, ‘Sen’? Are you still that drunk?”

Dechaa could read between the lines, “The jig’s up, Loress. Something tells me it has something to do with the bartender.”

Noach smiled; Dechaa was rather perceptive, “I’ve been talking with… ‘Sen’, and I think I can help you.”

Dechaa was most skeptical, “What’s there to do? Things are such… a mess.”

Essenta came to Noach’s aid, “Dechaa… Noach is a healer… and he’s a… psychic. He wants to help.”

Loress yipped, “A psychic? Those are real?”

Dechaa lowered her gaze, “They are real. My gift of empathy is rare… but his abilities… they’re one in a million. Literally.”

She considered the old unicorn, “Noach. Would you please relax your mind a moment?”

He knew what she wanted to do, “Sure.”

Noach cleared his mind, leaving it to wander. Dechaa let her own mind wander. She certainly couldn’t read his mind, but she could feel his intent. And she found she trusted him, in her heart.

Dechaa, still a little unnerved, “Sen’s right… Loress, we need to trust him.”

Loress did trust Essenta and Dechaa, but this was still a stretch, “If you trust him… I’ll choose to follow… But do you think Ama will be okay with this?”

Essenta wasn’t sure, but she knew the path she and her friends would take, “She will. It’ll take some explaining, but she will. One of you call her up. Have her come back. I’m sure she’s dragged around enough logs for one day.”

Dechaa made ready to call Ama, and the four ponies exited the pub. Noach locked the door, put up a sign saying “closed for the day”, and followed the mares.

Author's Note

Check out the Appendix for Princess Essenta, updated as the story moves along. It shows the story's timeline and character designs. Contains spoilers.

Putting their faith in another, Essenta takes her friends and the bartender to their little cottage. Just how will this old unicorn named Noach try to help them?

Next time, each mare comes face to face with some of her most intimate thoughts and feelings.

If you enjoy Princess Essenta, please take a look at my other stories, Larkspur Blossom and The Virgin Company, if you haven't.

Was planning on a release Thursday, March 29. But released a day early as I may be on the road. Look for the next chapter next Thursday.

Thanks for reading and take care.

Chapter 19: Journey into the Mindscape

Troubles Arc

Essenta, Dechaa, and Loress led Noach to their dwelling. Approaching the little cottage among the trees, they spotted Ama making her way there up another trail. Alarmed at the sight of her friends leading a unicorn to their refuge, she was immediately in a killing mood. Assuming the worst, she figured they may have been hoodwinked or under the unicorn’s control.

Ama drew her throwing dagger, which she was never without, but Essenta called to her.

“Ama, don’t worry. This is Noach. He’s a friend. He’s here to help us.”

Ama halted, “What?”

Loress spoke next, “It’s true, Ama.”

Dechaa added, “I trust him, Ama. Trust me."

The Mazan, most cynical, looked at her friends’ eyes; no magic of the sort she feared left the eyes as they were supposed to be. But her friends’ eyes looked… normal. In fact, they looked encouraged… especially Essenta's.

Ama sheathed her dagger, “Forgive me, Noach. My name is Ama of the clan Waterfall. But one cannot hold my caution against me. As I am sure my companions have told you, the last week has been difficult.”

Noach had never met a Mazan with such etiquette; most of them were assholes, but he could feel a virtuousness radiating from this statuesque mare, “It’s quite alright, Ama. I’m glad the princess and her friends have somepony like you to defend them.”

Ama cocked her head, “Well… Thank you, I suppose…”

She turned her head to their cherished leader, “Essenta. You are still intoxicated. Are you really of sound mind to have led your bartender here?”

Essenta shrunk a little under Ama’s gaze, “…Yes… As Dechaa said, you can trust him. I do.”

Noach couldn’t help but chuckle at Essenta’s nervousness, as well as the other two that led him there. Ama apparently had great respect for Essenta but held her to a high standard. Apparently disappointed with the princess’s shenanigans, she wasn’t just going to let it slide.

Ama turned to Noach, “Sir… Please tell me why you have come.”

He answered, “It may be hard to believe, but I’m a healer. Before opening my pub, I served in the Joeh Army. Joeh was also my home.”

Ama looked apologetic, “You have my sympathy, sir. It was indeed a horrible time… How do you mean to help us?”

He looked back to Ama, “I don’t mean to boast, but I am a skilled healer. I’m also psychic. Don’t fear that fact. I cannot just read somepony’s mind if they are standing in front of me as you are. It takes a more intimate approach… or just enough time.”

For the first time, possibly in the entire week, Ama smiled, “I suppose then, you know Essenta’s life story, even if unspoken.”

Noach chuckled; the Mazan was an interesting young mare, “That wouldn’t be entirely accurate. But I am here to help. I know you’re all in a bad way.”

Ama nodded, “Very well. I think it would be prudent to notify our friends inside we have a visitor before he enters.”

Dechaa walked forward, “Will do.”

After a moment, they entered the cottage.

Dechaa looked a little worried, “Zyra only woke a few minutes this morning. She’s asleep now.”

Essenta sighed, “Let’s just start here, for now. Noach thinks he might be able to help Wilka and Orni.”

Noach approached the two mares, “Good afternoon, ladies. My name’s Noach. I’m a healer.”

Wilka looked a little nervous, “Essenta? Can we trust this guy?”

Essenta was unsure why Wilka became so nervous. But… she had noticed Wilka became apprehensive around stallions she didn’t know... and the rest of them, for that matter. She pushed it to the back of her mind.

“Yes, Wilka. We can trust him. Orni… understand?”

The Knollwing nodded.

Noach smiled, “Don’t talk much, do you Orni?”

Orni blushed a little, showing a shy smile.

Noach addressed the room, “I suggest everypony relax for a time. Maybe get a little something to eat. The afternoon may be taxing… Dechaa… please bring me the sample of the poison you isolated. We may be able to do something about it.”

While the two healers went off, the rest did as they were bidden, and had a small snack. Essenta found herself checking in on Zyra. The mage was definitely sleeping. Essenta sat beside her friend’s prone position and stroked her mane. She so wished she could do something to help her. She couldn’t even feel Zyra’s emotions, try as she did. But she was no unicorn, or otherwise gifted in such perception. Hearing Noach come out of the kitchen with Dechaa, Essenta planted a kiss on Zyra’s brow and joined the company in the sitting room.

The old unicorn sat front and center, “Well, it was no wonder Dechaa couldn’t figure out what this was… it was a synthetic substance. I had to break it down into its ingredients. Even I’ve never seen this. There’s nothing to be done but get it out of your systems. It will take time, but it will happen. As you all have suspected, its purpose was to slow somepony down for a long time… for a ponynapping or something similar.”

The truth stung them, but they’d expected that. At least the young ones would continue to improve. But there was a sliver of good news on top of this.

“Dechaa… a simple concoction to increase their metabolisms would probably knock a week or so off the recovery. Still, it may be a month before they feel normal. They’ll need to exercise and get plenty of sleep, but it will help move things along. Also, they will need to increase their food intake. They need five meals a day, normal sized portions.”

If this was all they had to do, it was at least not bad news. They all felt a little more relieved, especially Wilka and Orni.

Ama nodded to Noach, “Thanks so much. This alone is reason for hope.”

The rest agreed.

Noach considered the group, “I recommend you all remain here for another two weeks. I can check on things again before then and see how it’s going… Now… I’m going to try helping your friend Zyra. Is she still asleep?”

Loress nodded, “She was a few minutes ago. Should I… wake her?”

“Oh, no. Don’t wake her.”

He quietly entered the room. He saw the little mage sleeping. She looked peaceful, but he sensed something very wrong. Approaching her bed, it became stronger. The company looked on as the old healer put his forehead to Zyra’s. He lingered a few seconds. A look of great unhappiness crossed his face and he backed away. Before the girls could say a word, he shooed them out of the room, quickly following them.

Wilka asked, “So, did you cure her?”

Noach smiled sadly, “I just took a quick look into her mind… She’s hurting. You know that though… but it’s bad. I can definitely help, but it won’t be easy… or pleasant.”

Essenta, now mostly sober, “Just tell us what has to be done.”

The stallion turned to her, “I will need help from all of you… It may help you as well. I suggest you all take some time to compose your thoughts and relax. I need a drink.”

Noach poured himself a mug of water. The girls wondered what was about to happen.

“I need you mares to trust me. I’m going to sit down with each of you and enter your minds. You don’t need to do anything, other than try to relax and have a willingness to communicate with me. This will be hard, but it must be done. And rest assured your secrets are safe with me.”

He sat across from Essenta, “I suppose I can call you ‘Princess’, now that our little game is behind us. Please lean forward, Princess.”

She did. He leaned forward, and his forehead joined hers.

Noach walked through the place that was Essenta’s mind. He wasn’t looking for anything in particular; he was just looking around to see what made the princess tick. He’d only caught glimpses in his pub. He needed to do this to see in deeply.

He saw the princess. He saw a pony that… hated what she was. Born a princess, she at once enjoyed her life and sought after something else. It was a very vague concept, the thing she was after, but it was strong. He saw the princess as a little filly, her siblings increasing in number. He saw all the princes she had met, the ones who she befriended and the ones she chased away. He saw her father, a figure most despised by Essenta. Yet… he was her father. She was still beholden to him, in spite of all that. She feared him, didn’t trust him, and part of her hated him.

He saw Essenta, at once struggling and excelling in befriending her subjects. She wanted so much to be their friend, to be their… equal. But there was nothing to change the fact she was born a princess. No matter how much they loved her, she was still up on a pedestal. And this tore the princess apart.

She was desperate for something. And he couldn’t put his hoof on it. Still, he saw the princess happily running out of town, with Dechaa and Zyra in tow. But it wasn’t just happiness he sensed in her. He saw despair. He saw her journey’s progress. He saw the fear, the heartbreak, the joy of new friends.

Standing on the idea Essenta had things more or less figured out or would be able to do so on her own, he pulled out of her mind.

Noach looked the princess in the face, as she shook her head, “You really do need to relax, Princess… or sober up a little more… It didn’t make a whole lotta sense in there, but I think I saw what I wanted to.”

Essenta was too captivated by what she just experienced to ask many questions. The other girls looked on in wonder. To them, this had only taken a few seconds.

He smiled, “Dechaa, you’re next.”

The young healer sat nervously, “Okay. Same drill?”

“Yup.”

Noach found Dechaa’s mind much easier to navigate. Not a simple mare, but much more ordered in her thoughts. He saw much of what he suspected, or at least things that didn't surprise him. He saw her well-meaning, but milquetoast father. He saw her mother. The term “harpy” came to mind. But what stood out the most was the middle child of three siblings. Her brother was a mighty warrior-in-training. Her sister was of a beautiful sort, but not the kind that was the same on the inside.

The middle child was an oddity among the family. She was bookish, compassionate, and a nervous breakdown waiting to happen. She wanted nothing more than to heal others… to help ponies… but she had great self-doubt. She felt overshadowed by ponies around her… especially her best friend. To her, Essenta was… “Sen”. While she criticized the princess for some of the crap she got up to, there was nopony she admired more. But was she a hindrance? The hindrance being Dechaa, in her mind.

He saw her uncertainty upon leaving their home behind, the terror experienced in the Forbidden forest, meeting new friends. Prominent was the knowledge King Dale had probably sent assassins to kill them all. Dechaa’s father was very close to the king. Dechaa wasn’t exactly in denial, but she wouldn’t give in to the idea without proof. The world would make even less sense after that.

Strongest in this area, was the raw horror she felt during the raid. Noach, unable to see it in Essenta's mind for her muddled state, saw the night attack in all its detail. They sure showed the "Fire Breathers" what it was to mess with Essenta's company. The fact she had managed to keep the stallion Zyra was interrogating alive was a horrifying, but very impressive thing.

Noach saw, most of all, her kindness. It radiated from her and it took no deep mindreading to see that. As scared as she was, she loved her friends and would do anything for them. While she relied on them, it was apparent they would be lost without her.

The old healer conjured up the little filly. She looked up at him with her sharp eyes, under her ebony mane. They blinked against her straw coat. There were some things he did want to say to this one.

Oh, young healer… It’s hard to imagine, leaving the home you knew, only to wind up in the place you are now. But don’t be afraid, middle child. And never forget how much Essenta and this company needs you. Without you, they might have been lost, more than once. You are no hindrance, so cast the thought aside.

You have a kind heart, Dechaa Beiren. Never lose that quality. And forgive yourself for what has happened to Zyra. It is indeed a horrible thing, but there is nothing simple about surviving in this world. I know your friends will need you now and in the future. Be there for the princess. She depends on you more than you might think.

Dechaa exclaimed as she came back. That was strange.

“Well done, Dechaa. And remember my words.”

Dechaa nodded. This would have been a lot weirder if they didn’t live in a world where such fantastic things were possible.

It took a moment for Noach to decide who to go with next, but he chose, “Ama… I think I should look at you, next.”

Ama was more nervous than she thought she might be; she didn’t really have any juicy secrets, but still shuddered at the idea of her mind being browsed through.

She sighed, “Very well.”

Unlike the uncertainty and strong yearning, he sensed in Essenta, or the fear and doubt he saw in Dechaa, Ama was different.

She knew her direction. And she wasn’t afraid overall. She’d known fear, plenty of times, but it didn’t cloud her mind. There was a vague apprehension about some things she experienced on the continent, but nothing unusual for somepony who came from across the sea.

Noach saw a little filly grow quickly. Despite her immense strength, she remained grounded. Even when she was able to beat anypony in her queendom, even at a young age, she never became arrogant. She had a thirst to prove herself, but the prudence not to be stubborn. He saw her before the queen of the Mazans, upon her coming of age. Ama wept in thankfulness and pride, receiving her greatsword. The queen accepted her tears, in spite of the culture against such things, as Ama was always forthright in the things she did. Her fellow Mazans were most proud of her.

But what stood out the most in Ama’s mind was something he found rather sad. Ama had spent her life in the spotlight, at the top tier of the Mazans. And for that, she felt she’d never had a friend who just wanted to be her friend for who she was, instead of what she was. She just wanted to be... a normal pony. This melancholy followed her across the sea and for a year following.

While not arrogant, Ama had learned much in her travels. She learned of knowledge and wisdom beyond her own experience and culture and was a better mare for it. Humbled, but not broken, she managed to move along with a decent vision in her eyes. This changed, not necessarily for the worse, upon meeting Essenta’s company. Right away, after befriending them, she knew in her heart those ponies loved her for being Ama, not some berserker champion respected and feared in her own tribe. She was truly happy and while they had a few setbacks and her future was no longer as clear to her, she felt this was the place she was supposed to be.

While Ama was in better shape upstairs than the first two, there were still some things he wished to tell her. As Dechaa had, Ama appeared as a filly. Noach couldn’t help but laugh at the gray-haired little Mazan; she was finally shorter than he was and had an unmistakable confidence in her strange eyes.

Ama, you are a most interesting mare. Despite your great fame and power, you remained humble and willing to learn. This is a sign of great wisdom. You may not think of yourself as a leader, but you can still help your friends. They need your insight.

Also, I’m so very glad you found the friends you were looking for. They are truly a special bunch. I know you will continue to love and protect them.

The little filly, dirty from her training, teared up. She tried to hide her tears, but Noach lifted her chin.

It’s alright to cry, little one. You do so because you understand and appreciate the value of the good things in your life… Don’t be afraid of who you are inside. Don’t fight it, young miss… be the mare you want to be.

While Ama was in the very brief trance perceived by the others, they saw her tears. Before they could react to this, Ama sat up. She smiled at Noach.

“Thank you, Noach. I will try to remember your good advice.”

He patted her hoof, “It’s quite alright, Ama. I think the path ahead of you will come clear sometime.”

Ama sat down among the others.

Noach considered the room: there were three left. He’d thought to go with the Knollwing but noticed something odd. Wilka and Orni were… closely bonded. It was a bond beyond friendship… one beyond love. He felt a distinct, but lesser quality of sorrow from the both, not unlike what he had felt with Zyra. He would enter their minds at the same time… He’d done it before, and in this case, it seemed a good idea.

“Loress… you’re next.”

Loress’s mind was quite unlike any he’d seen before. It was… colorful. Unlike the abstract voids he usually came across, Loress’s mind was a distinct landscape. He wasn’t sure where he was until he saw Earth ponies uprooting trees with their bare hooves. He laughed.

I see… Loress is homesick. But there’s a little more to it than that.

Noach walked around, taking in the sights. It was beautiful; every detail of Terrow stood before him. But he was looking around for Loress. Considering most of the ponies had darker coats and dull hair, finding the vanilla-coated Loress with her shiny black mane would be easy. Also… she was much prettier than any of the mares he saw. Terrans weren’t known for their looks. Most looked average, at best.

He didn’t know if he was looking for a full-grown mare, or a filly. As it turns out, he would see several iterations of the beautiful Loress. At the same time. This, he’d never seen before, but one thing was apparent: Loress had a hard time among her peers.

He saw her as a filly, smaller than the others, with a natural beauty she never needed to culture. She had trouble keeping up with others and was physically much weaker. She had few friends her own age, often spending time with older Terrans. They were the only ones that showed her much kindness.

Other foals mocked her for her apparent weakness, and her love of things beautiful. Despite her affinity for taking care of her father’s stable, she wanted to be a soldier. It was what a Terran was supposed to do, she felt. It was hard, but she didn’t give up. She worked hard, becoming fast.

He saw her as a young mare, still much smaller than the others. Her speed, agility, and even her overall fighting ability dwarfed everypony else, but her power still lacked sorely. She still enjoyed the company of older ponies, often helping the elderly. Her love of beautiful things never left her. And still, she didn’t lose her drive. But her confidence was shaken.

He saw her, just after she turned 17. It was apparent to everypony she was working very hard. She was giving her all and was still not strong enough to become a soldier. It made little sense she even wanted to be a soldier. It was obvious her heart was elsewhere. Despite the support of her parents and younger siblings, her confidence was gone. She left home and wandered.

But she had a glimmer of sureness upon meeting the princess and her friends. She enjoyed being with mares who valued her as a friend, as Ama did. She took on a quiet confidence she seemed unaware of. It made itself known, at least to others, when she kept the most level head the night of the raid. Despite her great fear and revulsion, she was the one that held them together that night.

While all the mares fighting together was the only reason for their victory, they truly would have perished without Loress, giving into despair. The pain she felt, having to restrain Essenta from saving Zyra from herself, was rather unlike anything Noach had seen. Without her reassurance and stout heart, even after escaping the assassins’ blades, the company would have given into fear during the walk to Silas.

Noach could have spent more time in there, but he thought he’d seen enough. He pulled up the little filly, looking up at him with a lack of confidence.

Loress, your story is an interesting, and for lack of a better term, an ironic one. Among your friends, there is no equal in physical strength. Among your own kind, you are an anomaly. You have a gentleness about you I’ve never seen in a Terran. You may never make it as a Terran soldier… Fuck it! Don’t try to be what you think you should be… be who and what you want to be.

Never lose that flappable nature of yours. And never lose sight of the beauty in life. In this world, it may be one of the best things anypony can hold onto. Keep having your tea parties and baking your cakes. When all else fails, a little cheer can make the difference between joy and desolation.

And have a little more confidence in yourself. The princess asked you along for a reason, one she isn’t quite aware of yet, but trust in yourself. You will remember the night of the raid. You kept your wits about you, in a fashion few ponies would have managed. Essenta would have been lost without you, in every sense of the word. She will come to rely on you in ways you may not expect.

Noach pulled away from Loress, and she looked a little woozy. It had taken 15 seconds with her, as opposed to less than five as it had with the rest of them. Noach knew he would be away with the last two for a while. It would possibly be days for him, and a minute to the company.

He approached the two, “I’m going to enter your minds simultaneously. Please try to relax.”

Orni was quite relaxed but Wilka was terrified. Noach put a hoof on Wilka’s.

“I know how scared you must be, but please trust me. It’s the only way I can think to help Zyra… and you.”

Wilka may not have been able to relax, but she tried to open her mind. That was a start.

It had been many years since Noach attempted to work within two minds at once. And it was easier to differentiate between these two than he had seen in any other similar instance. Orni’s mind was fairly calm. There was an odd serenity around him. The loudest overall feeling was her… earnestness. Wilka’s, on the other hoof, looked like a maelstrom. There was a great deal of fear and distrust, much more than he had seen in the other mares. It was unclear what she specifically dreaded, but he’d need to look closer.

While he intended to communicate with both at the same time, he decided to visit Orni first. He’d need her help anyway, once he’d decided how to confront Wilka’s essence. He doubted he’d be able to get in otherwise. Seeing the little Knollwing a distance away, she still had her wings. He knew this wouldn’t be pretty.

But he’d made up his mind to help Essenta and her friends. The glimpse he caught in Zyra’s mind strengthened his desire to do this. He strode over to the little filly.

Author's Note

Check out the Appendix for Princess Essenta, updated as the story moves along. It shows the story's timeline and character designs. Contains spoilers.

Same drill as last week. Wednesday chapter release. The roads are clearer and will likely be on the road Thursday.

Having put their trust in some old bartender, the mares have had a little time to think about where they stand. It leads up to an attempt to aid Zyra, and the old unicorn will need the experiences of her friends to help her overcome, or at least pacify, the horrors in her mind.

I don't much like this chapter. It just doesn't work for me. I'd rewrite it, but it gets its point across, I feel. Writing a character strolling through a dream went a whole lot better in my head.

Wilka's, Orni's, and Zyra's chapter, next time, will have a little more clout to it. If this chapter sucked, try not to let it throw you off. Sometimes ideas are just hard to get across.

If you enjoy Princess Essenta, please take a look at my other story, Larkspur Blossom, if you haven't.

Also look for my war story, The Virgin Company.

Watch for the next chapter in a week. Will be a longer chapter.

Thanks for reading. Take care.

Chapter 20: The Young Minds

Troubles Arc

As Noach approached Orni within the little Knollwing’s mind, he noticed a few things. As Loress did, she had a distinct mindscape; it was a forest rather than a city. It shouldn’t have surprised him, but her tranquility could be felt in the air around him.

This was the first time in a decade he’d met anypony with the presence of mind to meet him as a “corporeal” being he could actually engage in such a way. It was as if they were meeting outside of her mind.

“Orni… very impressive. Only high-level unicorns can usually meet me as you are now. You must be able to fall asleep pretty fast, given the lucidity of your mind.”

The filly, even littler than Orni already was, smiled and answered in a more childlike voice, “I don’t know a thing about this, sir. This is definitely a first for me.”

He decided not to bother telling her much about the others’ minds… their business, not hers. Again, noting Orni had her wings, Noach sighed.

“How old were you when you lost your wings?” he didn’t want to ask, but he needed some clarity to proceed.

Orni fluffed her wings of white, looking sadly at them, “I wasn’t quite 8-years-old when the slavers blew me out of the sky. I’m not sure why I’m a filly right now… Usually, even in my own mind, I envision myself as I am.”

Noach chuckled, “I’m not sure why ponies appear as their younger selves in the mindscape. Maybe it’s something about the innocence of childhood… Still, we’ll be able to look at your life from outside your perspective.”

“How will I be able to see my own life on the outside, when it all goes on in my head?”

Noach enjoyed this; a lucid mind was rare indeed, “You can visualize yourself in the third person, right? It works like that. Even though you saw something through your eyes, you can still picture it from the outside.”

She cocked her head, “Okay…”

He nodded to a path, “You’ll see what I mean in a few moments.”

The two of them walked a distance and came upon a large party of Knollwings. The Pegasi were traveling along a country road, laughing and paddling along. At the head of the company, Noach saw two regal-looking Knollwings. Each of them had a foal clinging to their back. Behind them, trotted a little green filly with wings of white.

Orni pointed, “Up front, those are my parents. My father’s a knight… Sir Wytt Valkea. And my mother… Lady Phoebe Valkea.”

Noach tried not to gawk; Orni’s mother was beautiful… Maybe not quite as beautiful as Loress, but as close as any pony he’d seen. Her wings were also white. The two little fillies riding on their parents shared this characteristic.

Orni continued, “I have two little sisters… Decima and Neas. Three fillies in a row… all with wings of white. Mother was the envy of many.”

Noach watched with Orni for a while. He learned Orni came from the northeastern part of the continent. She was barely old enough to remember the city she was born in. Her father and mother were selected to lead a group west to start a new colony… and to search out Knollwing magic.

Her father had the magic and her mother had a touch of it. And they knew Orni had it but hadn’t awakened it. It was indeed rare to see Knollwing magic in the current days. It was feared by the Knollwing leaders their race would die out or lose themselves in mixing with normal Pegasi.

Sir Valkea didn’t care much… if their race was dying, it was dying. They were still Pegasi. But they did need a new home. It wasn’t just magic dying out in their part of the continent. The region had seen dry cycles increase, forcing them to seek out new lands.

As the group went along, they camped where they could, traded with what they had, and did anything they could do to eke out a living on the road. It was the only life Orni knew, and while there weren’t many other foals, she had her ponies, her family, and a few friends. She was happy.

Of course, Noach saw the slavers attack them around Renata. The Knollwings made every attempt to save Orni but had to flee when she appeared lost.

The Orni watching the projections of her own memories, nuzzled into Noach, “I sometimes dream about this…”

He patted her head, looking on. It was certainly painful to watch the slavers escape with a few Knollwings, all young ones, while leaving Orni to die, crippled on the ground. Deciding Orni didn’t need to relive all this more than she had to, he took her forward.

The two of them saw a happy little filly, wing-stubs fully healed, romping around with the other foals in Renata. They saw Orni’s other siblings born, one after another. The foals adored their big sister. They saw Wilka join the community, offering Orni a friendship she couldn’t now imagine being without. And of course, they saw Essenta arrive with four other mares in tow. They experienced the joy and exhilaration of their duels at the fighting grounds… and the bittersweet departure.

Naturally, there was no recollection of the night of the raid. Orni couldn’t remember much of anything before waking up in a feather bed in the cottage outside Silas.

There wasn’t really anything else to see. Noach kneaded Orni’s shoulder.

“Thank you for letting me into your mind. I will say this: there isn’t a whole lot I can tell you… Like the princess, you have things pretty well figured out. Just be there for your friends.”

Orni looked over nervously, “What now?”

Noach turned to her, not looking much happier, “You already know… We need to look at Wilka’s mind.”

It took a while to make the long walk from the clear side of the shared mindscape to the monsoonal side that was Wilka’s mind. There was no clear landscape to be seen on the way there… just a violent, noisy void… with weather of its own.

Orni stood in confusion and fear, “This is Wilka’s mind?”

Noach braced himself against the literal wind from the storm. That’s what it was- a storm... complete with thunder, lightning, and a shitload of driving rain. They could feel the fear and mistrust emanating from further in.

“No, Orni… we’re still at the very outer limits of the space between the two of you. I’m afraid I’ve seen this many times: Wilka’s made a decision to close off her mind to me. Do you see that light up ahead?”

Orni peered into the confusion; there was a patch of light, glowing dimly, “I see it.”

“That is Wilka’s essence. I cannot move any closer. But you might be able to. I want you to go and see if you can make an opening for me.”

She looked oddly at him, “How?”

“She trusts you… more than you can imagine. You’ll be able to convince her.”

Orni… didn’t like the way that sounded. But she began to walk; within a few seconds, she halted. Noach could see her concentrating, her eyes shut. She was listening to something.

Orni took up an expression he had trouble placing. It wasn’t angry or even disappointed, but showed a grudging understanding and resignation.

The Knollwing nodded, Okay, Wilka.

She turned to Noach, “I won’t.”

“What?”

“I won’t pry her mind open for you to see,” Orni stated plainly.

It came clear to Noach, “You already know everything there is to know about Wilka, don’t you?”

“And she knows most everything about me, Noach. And she doesn’t want you or anypony else in there.”

Noach could feel the tempest around him shift, Wilka was trying to push them out. The fear and revulsion he felt blowing around was chilling. But Orni appeared to be completely at peace with it, once Wilka had “spoken” to her.

He looked thoughtful, “It’s no wonder I felt such a connection between the two of you… you know each other that well.”

She looked back to him, “Yes, Noach… I think it’s best you pull us out.”

Noach fell out of the shared mindscape of the two young mares. He physically fell on his back. He’d been working harder to maintain his presence than he thought once he and Orni went to Wilka’s side. A little woozy, Ama helped him to his hooves and into a chair.

Dechaa offered Noach a mug of water; he looked exhausted. The company noted he’d been gone for just under a minute to them. It had been some trip for Noach, though. Noach took the water, gulping gratefully.

Once he’d had his fill, “Orni. Well done.”

Orni nodded back, looking a little beat herself.

Noach looked to Wilka, looking sad, miserable, scared, and… ashamed.

Deciding not to approach or touch her, he said, “Don’t worry, Wilka… It’s alright.”

Whether it was or wasn’t, the pink Pegasus rolled onto her side and curled up on her bed. It was concerning to the company, but a look at Orni told them to not concern themselves with it. The old healer realized Wilka would be useless for what he was about to do. In fact, he would only need one of the girls: he had to choose one of them… and Wilka would’ve been his last choice anyway.

Noach addressed the girls, “Well… After spending a little time in your minds, I must say you’re fortunate to be alive, some of the things you’ve been through. But you’ve made it here, together and that says a lot. I know what I think we’ll need to reach Zyra. I’d like to wait… but I think it’s best to go in now. We need to strike when the iron is hot, so the saying goes… while everything is still fresh in my mind. As you may have guessed, what seems like a moment out here can span days when I entered your minds.”

The girls looked back to him, just listening… this was out of their league, so it was all they could do.

He continued, to himself mostly, “If waiting was a better choice, I’d maybe take the princess in, given the history shared… But she’s still impaired and I won’t wait until she is otherwise.”

Without malice, he looked to Essenta. She looked rather ashamed of herself and the rest could tell she felt that way. Noach was ambivalent on the matter; it was immaterial to him.

Noach leaned back in his chair, “Don’t fret, Princess. There’s a better choice, anyway. I’d ask for a volunteer, as I’m sure at least some of you would be more than willing to go in there with me, but I need to choose. One of you is best for this undertaking. It won’t be pretty in there… fair warning.”

The girls sat with much nervousness. Putting Essenta and Wilka aside, that left Dechaa, Ama, Loress, and Orni. One of them would jump into the void with the old stallion.

Noach sighed and turned to the Mazan, “Ama… I need you.”

She gawped, “Me, Noach?”

“Yes. Recall meeting Essenta and her two companions from the Dale. It was an unfortunate circumstance that brought the four of you together but look at the friendships you’ve cultivated. Zyra chose to accept you as a friend, even after she was put into a brief episode upon seeing your actions against the stallions around the Forbidden Forest.”

Ama looked down at the floor; she didn’t like thinking about that morning. It was horrible enough for her on top of being a bad time for Essenta and the Dale mares. And her companions knew as much as was needed to know about it and felt sympathy. Her friends put their hooves to the Mazan. Ama looked at their reassuring eyes and felt strengthened.

Noach could see her confidence rising but said it anyway, “That was an awful thing to have to do, but surviving isn’t always easy. Zyra trusts you… and she loves you as her friend. I’ve seen enough of Zyra’s mind to know this: there’s nopony else she’d rather have on her flank when things get bad.”

Nopony else took this as an insult; Ama was right on top of any of their lists of ponies with whom they’d trust their backs. Ama teared up at the realization and couldn’t help but smile. She was touched anypony would think of her in such a way. Maybe someday she’d realize everypony felt that way.

Ama stood, “Very well, Noach. How do we begin?”

Ama and Noach sat in the room with Wilka. They’d relaxed themselves, had a little something to eat, and were ready. The other girls were advised to remain outside. It would only be a few minutes to them… Ama and Noach might be gone for a couple days.

Noach patted Ama’s hoof, “Thanks for being willing to do this, Ama… I don’t think anypony else would be able to help me. Perhaps not even the princess, even if she was clear-headed, would be able to handle this.”

Ama nodded grimly, shutting her eyes, “I know she suffers… and yet I cannot imagine the horrors in the mind of Zyra.”

A few tears squeezed out of her closed eyes, “It hurt… it hurt so very much, seeing what my actions did to her. It… was more than I could bear to watch. When she was in the throws of it that night… I had to walk away.”

Noach kneaded her hoof, “I see you don’t blame yourself, but it still hurts you, I know. Try to be strong for Zyra. As I said, she’d trust you with her very life and even her wellbeing. You’ve proven yourself to stand above and beyond what she’d ever hope to expect from a friend. In her heart… she does not feel that way about all of you.”

This did yet didn’t surprise Ama. It was a Hell of a thing to trust your very self to another pony. She’d honor that trust and do whatever she could to help Noach… to help Zyra.

Noach advised she sit comfortably and put a hoof to Zyra, taking her other.

“Ama… are you ready?”

Ama closed her eyes, surprised at how relaxed she now felt, “I am.”

Noach put his free hoof to Zyra’s temple and the two found themselves pulled into the void that led to Zyra’s mind.

Author's Note

Check out the Appendix for Princess Essenta, updated as the story moves along. It shows the story's timeline and character designs. Contains spoilers.

Now that Noach has learned a little about the girls, he's ready to attempt to help Zyra. And with a stout heart, Ama joins their new acquaintance in the process.

Next time, Ama and Noach confront the horrors of Zyra's younger days.

I know I meant to have a "more substantial" chapter, but Zyra's story should stand on its own. I also spent quite a bit of time on Chapter 4 of The Virgin Company, effectively doubling the word-count for that story.

If you enjoy Princess Essenta, please take a look at my other major story, Larkspur Blossom. A story of a colt finding his worth and making a better life for himself.

Also look for The Virgin Company, a shorter companion story to Larkspur Blossom. A tale of a military pony and his platoon in a war centuries ago.

Watch for the next chapter.

Thanks for reading. Take care.

Chapter 21: Personal Hell

Troubles Arc

Ama and Noach found themselves in a patch of forest on a road. It was early morning.

“Here we are, Ama. We’re in Zyra’s memory. In here, we’re less than ghosts. We don’t even exist. There’s no relating with that which is around us.

“This is not what I expected to find in Zyra’s mind…” Ama looked around wonderingly.

Noach was nonplussed, “What were you expecting?”

“Well, in my mind it was… formless. I saw glimpses of things and only saw myself when you called out to me.”

Noach nodded, “That was normal. It’s usually only powerful unicorns and ponies in touch with certain magic… or those with a certain frame of mind that can display what we see now.”

Ama peered around; it was real enough, but hazy and dreamlike, “I imagine Orni can… maybe Loress. They are no magic users but are of magic.”

She added without malice, “I doubt Dechaa is able to… she is the anxious sort.”

Noach chuckled, “You’re right about Dechaa, Ama. The other two… that isn’t the case with all Terrans or Knollwings, but… yes. Both can do it. Though the rest of you cannot, seeing three of you able to do it… That’s something I’ve never encountered.”

The fact she was “normal” didn’t bother Ama in the slightest; she was so unusual in so many other ways.

“Noach,” Ama poked a hoof at the ground. “You told me we cannot interact with this world… How is it we can stand? We are on gravel… Why is the ground… smooth?”

Noach waved a hoof, “It’s just a physical barrier spell. It gives us something to walk on… nothing more. Try touching that shrub.”

Ama reached to the nearby bush he had pointed at and found her hoof passed right through it, “Fascinating…”

“It would be the same if you touched anything… including a pony. This is a memory. We can’t change or otherwise manipulate anything.”

Ama asked, “This road leads to Zyra’s hometown?”

Noach began to walk, “Indeed. I suppose you’ve never heard of it; it’s a little village by the sea. A place called Oswald… a place that no longer exists.”

The two walked a couple miles, with little more to say. As Ama had suspected, Noach had brought them to the time and place where Zyra lost her friends, her family, her town… and a big piece of her innocence. Ama dreaded what she knew they would see and experience, but it was a memory. They had no way to interact with this realm… at least as they watched the memory unfold.

As Noach had described to Orni, Zyra was able to project herself and the environment from without. Instead of seeing things through Zyra’s eyes, they would see everything around them.

They arrived in Oswald. It was a rather small town. Situated in a cove, rounded mountains loomed in the east. Ama could see ponies harvesting seaweed; it happened to be the town’s major export. Ama knew well enough dried seaweed made a fine, salty snack and could be used in anything.

It was as picturesque a town as Renata, if not much smaller. It didn’t take them long at all to find what they were looking for. Even a town as small as Oswald had a magic guild. It was the largest structure in town, other than the storehouses. Made of pine like the rest of the town, it was a lovely place. Atop the front door was the same symbol Zyra had burned into the rock she tortured the “Fire Breathers’” assassin upon.

And they saw Zyra in the front yard, facing the sea. It was unmistakably her. She was smaller and kept her mane longer, but it was her. She couldn’t have been more than 8-years-old. But what stood out most to Ama were the eyes. They were the steely color she was used to, but the eyes were not dulled. They gleamed with youthful exuberance and curiosity. The filly had a cute-as-pie smile on her face as she watched a trail of ants move along.

“Zyra, dear.”

The little filly looked up. There stood a unicorn stallion with the same pale green coat, sandy mane, and steely eyes.

“Hi, Dad!” Zyra said, hugging him. “How was Fulco?”

He ruffled her mane, “Oh, it was just business. Nothing too exciting. Have your lessons been going well?”

“I think so. Uncle Tatius said he was ready to teach me more fire manipulation. Creating it’s easy as making a spark, but commanding it… I know that’s a little more complicated.”

The stallion laughed, “I can’t believe my little filly has such a gift for fire magic. My brother’s really lucky to have somepony like you to take under his wing, so to say. When I was your age, I could only dream of membership in the guild one day… and you were initiated when you were 6-years-old. That’s never been done before.”

Zyra began to walk, “Mom’s cooking your favorite lunch. When she heard you’d be back today, she had me go to the market for fresh tomatoes.”

Ama and Noach sat back, almost bored with this. But the mundane between father and daughter was best appreciated, for this was the day Zyra’s life changed.

Ama looked up, but still down at him, his being shorter, “If we cannot interact with this world, how will we communicate with Zyra?”

Noach looked sad, “Once the memory I’ve placed us in is over and fades away, its… ‘ghost’ will lead us to her essence. It was how I found each of you, in your own minds. If I could spare you traveling through here, I would. But it’s such a convoluted mess in here, it was the best way to find a sure line to Zyra herself.”

Ama looked both sad and anxious, “When will it happen?”

Noach patted her shoulder, “I’m unsure… but sometime this afternoon.”

Ama looked with great longing after little Zyra alongside her father.

“I know this hurts, Ama… But as I said, we’re in a memory. We can’t help her. We can’t comfort her… not until the end of things. And she will need you, Ama.”

Ama couldn’t help herself; she began to weep, seeing the happy little filly bounding around. The knowledge she was about to see this town torn apart by death and fire was too much for her to readily process.

Noach sighed, “It’s an entire mindscape we’re in, Ama… if you wish to step away, it won’t be difficult to find Zyra once it’s over.”

Ama sniffled, shaking her head, “No… That would be wrong. If I- if we- are to help Zyra, we must weather this. I will not turn away.”

Above the front door to the Argon house, the same symbol was present. Ama never knew Zyra had siblings; none of the company knew, but she had four. Zyra was the youngest by quite a bit… an unexpected pregnancy. All her siblings were grown up; two of them were married and had foals of their own. And all of them were in town to welcome their father home.

The oldest of Zyra’s nieces was 6-years-old, so Zyra and the young ones frolicked in the front yard as if they were cousins. It hurt Ama’s heart yet more, the happy filly both tending to and playing with her nieces and nephews.

Ama and Noach noticed Zyra’s father and uncle slip out the side door. Zyra had a new trick she wanted to show her father, so she went out after them. Ama and Noach followed, right behind little Zyra as she snuck a peak at her father and uncle in the woodshed.

“Tatius,” Zyra’s father spoke quietly. “I’m beginning to take issue with Zyra learning some of the things you’ve been teaching her.”

Uncle Tatius scoffed, “Nestor… don’t start on this again. You’re my big brother, but I’m the one Dad chose to carry on the guild. If you’re still sore about being passed over, it’s not my fault. Your interests and talents lay elsewhere.”

Nestor came in close, “You know that’s not what I’m worried about. I wanted the guild, sure, but I couldn’t have done much with it. That’s in the past. What I’m worried about is Zyra. She’s only 8-years-old. I can understand her being in the guild, but she’s too young to be learning some of those spells. Just because she can do them doesn’t mean she’s ready.”

“You worry too much, Brother. Zyra’s a lot more mature than you give her credit for… she understands the implications of the things I teach her. She has a gift and it must be cultured. Her fire magic is already on par with my own, even if she doesn’t know it. Easing her in works.”

Nestor was losing his patience, “Tatius! I don’t know if you’re pretending to look past this or if you’re really that clueless. Zyra’s 8-years-old! She needs to enjoy her childhood. There’s time to learn things later… She’s been shirking her friends… All she seems to do is practice magic. Let her be a filly a few more years before pinning this inheritance on her shoulders.”

“And I say she has a responsibility!” Uncle Tatius pointed to his heart; something underneath his flesh glowed. “This is what she was born for: to inherit the Fire Diamond. It was given to me when I was a teenager. Zyra will be ready very soon if she keeps the pace she’s held. In fact, she’s ready now…”

At this, Nestor pushed his brother against the wall, “I’m not letting you crack my daughter’s ribcage open to insert that infernal curse into her body. That’s what killed Dad, pulling that thing out of him! And Grandad, too! It’s hard to believe anypony falls for that heart-storm nonsense, especially when they die just after passing on the guild. And I can’t stand the thought of you, dying before your time just to fulfill that stupid ritual. That’s the only reason you’re much good with fire. If Zyra’s as talented as you say, let that miserable gem die with you and save her the agony of dealing with it. Live out your life and end the cycle!”

“Don’t be stupid… I’ve learned of a way to remove it without killing me. Zyra will inherit this from me. Only an Argon can wield the Fire Diamond and you know it. Don’t deny this.”

“Fuck you!” Nestor took a swing at his brother and the two began to scuffle.

Zyra, growing more and more frightened at the things revealed, let out a little yip, stopping her father and uncle.

They saw her, and seeing them take notice, she ran off towards a patch of woods.

“Zyra!” one of the stallions called; Ama couldn’t tell which one.

The stallions before Ama and Noach began to fade.

“What’s happening, Noach?”

“We can only see what Zyra remembers and what she saw, Ama. She knows our surroundings but cannot conjure up the vision of her father and uncle. We’d best stick closer to her.”

This knowledge was rather tough for Ama to take: The Argon family possessed some magic gem that they passed along to the next generation… and passing it along possibly killed its supplier and involved open-chest surgery for the receiver. Lovely…

Trailing the little filly, Ama and Noach came to a clearing near the forest’s edge. Inside, they found the little one crying. She said nothing, but she didn’t have to.

“Zyra!” “Zyra!” the voices of her father and uncle could be heard nearby.

Zyra scrambled through the woods, deeper in. Unencumbered by the forest around them, Ama and Noach were able to pass through trees, brush, and other obstacles as if they were air.

Little Zyra led them around for some time. Eventually, Ama and Noach had followed her to a stream. The filly sat on a rock and appeared to agonize over what she’d just learned.

“Noach,” Ama murmured. “I know we cannot interact with her, but is there any way to know what she is thinking?”

Noach said, “There’s no reason to whisper, Ama. As you know, she can’t hear us. And I can tell you what she’s feeling, at least to an extent. Managing this space is difficult enough.”

“What is it she is feeling?” Ama stared at Zyra.

“She’s confused… scared… unable to wrap her young mind around her legacy. I admit, Ama… I could channel her feelings to you, but I don’t wish to. With all my heart I don’t. Please don’t ask it of me. It would overcome you…”

Ama could’ve guessed as much and decided to trust Noach’s judgement; she looked on with increasing sadness, “What a day…”

For about an hour, Zyra simply sat before them, letting out an occasional sniffle. Ama and Noach had already been in this memory half the day… and it was far, far, far from over.

Ama sat almost transfixed, watching over the little unicorn.

Noach abruptly sat up, “It’s time, Ama…”

Ama looked up; she heard the noise first. Little Zyra heard it too and she looked in the direction of Oswald. It sounded like far-off explosions.

Down in the rocks beside the river the three ponies on the beach saw columns of inky, black smoke begin to rise. The alarm on Zyra’s face was palpable and the little one, after coming to her senses, ran back towards town.

Zyra had led them a good mile away from Oswald. It took her a long while to weave her way through the forest. Ama and Noach had an easier time, keeping right on her tail.

Yet in the afternoon sun, a glow could be seen emitting from Oswald, even a distance away from the forest’s edge. As the three ponies left the brush at the very edge of the forest, a perfect vision of Hell greeted them. The very air in and around the town appeared to be in flames.

Ama wasn’t sure if she believed in Hell. Heaven? Who knows? She wasn’t sure if God or some kind of god or collective of what have you existed, watching over and pulling the strings of the world. But she had an idea of what Hell looked like. Her nightmares did this no justice.

Even over the roar of the flames, ponies could be heard screaming. The screams were rat-like and staggered the mind, reminiscent to Ama of the stallion Zyra had cooked in their campsite recently.

Zyra stood transfixed at this. Ama stood the same; this was horror she’d never imagined. Noach stood, his stomach feeling mutinous as the horrible sounds invaded his ears.

Then ponies began to totter out of Oswald. Blind and in flames, their flesh was literally melting from their bones and they could only stagger so far; when there wasn’t enough to remain upright and allow for locomotion, they fell over, mercifully dead.

The little unicorn, taking all this in, wet herself as somepony, unseeingly staggering near her, fell to pieces before her.

Ama was too dismayed to even scream; she couldn’t smell anything, but she could see and hear. The horror…

After a few seconds, Zyra suddenly snapped back, “Dad! Mom!”

She immediately took off; Noach had to urge Ama to move after Zyra.

Before entering her town, Zyra encapsulated herself in a barrier. Ama screamed uselessly as the little filly jumped into the flames. But Zyra was unharmed, shielded by her powerful magic. Noach once again had to prod Ama along, hesitant to enter that which couldn’t harm her.

Inside the town, everything was unimaginably worse: what they’d seen outside of town was all around them. Ponies and pieces of ponies lay everywhere, some still moving as they cooked in the heat.

How Zyra managed to keep moving through all this, Ama couldn’t fathom. But she kept moving past all the horror in what seemed an obvious attempt to reach home.

And reach home she did. There, outside on what was once the front lawn, she found her family. Bodies and pieces lay everywhere. There was no counting this. They may have been sitting down to dinner when this happened. But it hadn’t been inside the house where they died.

Even with their charred remains, it was obvious to Ama some of them had been tortured. Their horns lay, detached, in a pile. The horrendous burns that had killed some of them were too precise, to specific in their nature, to have been casual. It stood out from the rest of the town, where the damage was complete and indiscriminate. As for several members, they’d been blown to smithereens.

With the fire raging around her, Zyra fell to her knees. No tears came. She was beyond that. But an unmistakable alarm crossed her face and she screamed. Unearthly and loud, the sound was unlike anything Ama had heard in her life. She screamed herself hoarse over a few minutes and fell over.

Standing there, Ama and Noach could see it in her eyes: Zyra had just given up on life. Her barrier flickered, and the flames threatened to consume her. Ama couldn’t help herself. She reached out to touch Zyra, knowing it would do nothing.

“Zyra!” a voice wavered nearby.

Zyra perked up, her barrier again strong, “Wha-?”

“Zyra! To your left!”

Zyra looked left; it was her uncle, clad in his own barrier. To her horror, he was missing a chunk of a back leg, the stump crudely cauterized below the knee. He managed to crawl and no more.

“Help me, Zyra!”

To her credit, the little filly, summoning a strength unlike that which she knew, rolled him to his back. His tunic and cape were intact, so she clamped her teeth around his cloak and ran. She ran out of the town and the fire still consuming it, swiftly dragging him along.

Zyra only quit running once they’d entered the forest. Finally letting down her barrier, she collapsed in a heap, sobbing uncontrollably. Her uncle, in some intense pain, was using magic on his leg-stump, soothing it; he seemed far too calm given all that happened.

He was calm, “Zyra… we can’t stay here. Whoever did this might still be around.”

He explained to Zyra he needed help beyond what either of them could do; he would die in a week otherwise. His magic could only keep infection from spreading for so long; he wasn’t a healer and knew little of medicine. Too numb to do anything else, Zyra was convinced. He was all she had left.

In an almost trancelike state, Zyra put together a sled made of tree limbs. Helping her uncle onto it, she began dragging him away from Oswald.

Barely stopping to rest, other than eat and drink what she could find for herself and her uncle, Zyra pulled the sled.

For three entire days, the little filly pulled the sled, to where, she didn’t know. She only followed directions. She’d maybe slept five or six hours since escaping Oswald. When she slept, Ama and Noach found themselves in darkness, unable to see her dreams, if she was having any. Ama knew Zyra dreamed; she’d seen her cry in her sleep and worse. Perhaps it was best they couldn’t see Zyra’s dreams.

Ama and Noach followed closely; this was almost too much for them to bear. To them, as it had been for Zyra, they had been in Zyra’s memory four days. Zyra came close to collapse more than a few times, but at the urging of her uncle she continued to move.

And move she did, never complaining or questioning. Her eyes were quite dead, but there was a gleam of hope in them. Her uncle was alive. Even after learning their family’s secret, she trusted him. With that powerful gem inside of him, she was confident he’d be able to hold on.

Relief came at last when Uncle Tatius told Zyra to halt. In the grove up ahead was an old colleague of his… a unicorn stallion named Aeolus. He was a healer and he’d be able to help them. Zyra didn’t question why they had to come so far but was simply relieved.

Meeting Aeolus, Zyra fell upon the offered food and water before passing out. For 12 hours, Ama and Noach found themselves in darkness. Unable or unwilling to speed up time within the dream, Noach insisted Ama sleep. She didn’t need to sleep, in that space, but she could; it would pass the time.

Noach put a gentle hoof on Ama, “Ama… wake up.”

Sitting up, Ama saw the space around her develop and come clear. Zyra was waking up.

Zyra lay in a bed in Aeolus’s house. She stiffly got up and foggily ambled out into the main room.

“Zyra,” a voice said.

Looking over, Zyra saw Aeolus tending something on the stove, “Aeolus?”

“Yes, Zyra. Please sit down.”

She did, and he put a bowl of soup in front of her. Zyra hadn’t realized, but she was very hungry. She thought about the things she’d been through in the last few days and wept silently as she ate. But she suddenly stopped, remembering.

“Where’s my uncle?!” she almost fell out of her chair.

Aeolus came to her side, “Take it easy, Zyra. You almost killed yourself getting him here. But he’ll be okay. He’s sleeping. I was able to help him.”

Zyra, for the first time in five days, smiled. She wept anew, this time in relief. Her world wasn’t over, yet.

Ama believed she would soon start to lose her mind; they’d been in Zyra’s memory for a week… She and Noach had talked about everything a pony could think to talk about. She almost came close to begging Noach to knock her out or speed up time (for them) but she knew tampering could throw off the memory and leave them with nothing. So, she waited. Until they reached the end of whatever this turned out to be, it would be hard to reach Zyra.

Zyra had been helping with the chores. Her uncle had been sleeping quite a bit; she had to remind herself his wounds could’ve killed him, while she was merely exhausted. A few times during the miserable trip bringing him there, she’d worked up the courage to ask what had happened. He told her to concern herself with it later.

Being young, she couldn’t really help herself. She wanted to know. As the days went on, her uncle got stronger. His leg had all but healed up; soon he’d be ready for a prosthetic. Even Zyra felt better. Time heals wounds, even those of the mind and heart.

After three weeks of being inside Zyra’s head, Ama had trained herself to enter trancelike states in addition to sleeping, at least when Zyra was sleeping. They had no knowledge of the things when Zyra wasn’t awake and there was no reason for Ama to go nuts stuck in there.

Noach barely slept. To Ama, it was as if he never did. Maybe he didn’t; she never saw him sleep…

Zyra had become more insistent that her uncle tell her what happened. She felt it was owed to her as it was her family. He hadn’t had family, other than his brother, so he couldn’t understand the way she felt. Continually, he told her to wait and that he’d tell her when she was ready. He claimed to be not ready to relive it. Be that as it may, he seemed awfully at ease with things; he was hiding something and was just keeping her in the dark about it. She was growing angry with him and with Aeolus, still telling her to be patient.

Five weeks… Five weeks had passed in Zyra’s memory. Ama was sure of it now: if she hadn’t trained her mind to endure this, she would have gone off her rocker by then. The days dragged out in great tedium… Zyra did chores, ate, slept, and agonized over her family.

One day, when Ama and even Noach were beginning the creep towards insanity, Zyra did something she’d been contemplating for three weeks.

Her uncle was a heavy sleeper. Aeolus was out, visiting a nearby farm; he wouldn’t be back for hours. With this opportunity, Zyra decided to take a look at her uncle’s mind. She couldn’t read his mind, per-say… but she could “open” it and look at his memories. This was something nopony had taught her… she figured it out on her own.

Desperate to learn something, she lulled him into a deeper sleep and invaded his mind. Not surprising to Ama, she and Noach then entered his mind within Zyra’s.

Once inside Uncle Tatius’s mind, Ama had no clue where they might be. It was a city, somewhere. It was strange: she and Noach stood in a memory within a memory. Zyra was standing there, assuredly unable to interact with this world as they were.

Uncle Tatius sat in a pub; he was nervous. His drink untouched, he’d make a move to it from time to time, but his hooves shook so badly he couldn’t pick it up. His horn wasn’t working any better.

After a time, a cloaked unicorn sat across from him, “Tatius Argon.”

Looking scared and relieved at the same time, Uncle Tatius leaned forward, “Commander Ra-”

The cloaked figure barely whispered, “If you say my name, I’ll kill you where you sit.”

Uncle Tatius shut up. He gulped and shivered uncomfortably.

The “commander” shook his head, “You piece of shit… you’ve pissed yourself. I can already smell it.”

Uncle Tatius looked up, both terrified and embarrassed, “Well, I’m here… What do you need?”

“I’m growing impatient with you, Tatius. When will the Fire Diamond be mine? You’ve had four months. The only reason you’re alive is because it won’t work without an Argon. And only you and that hermit Aeolus have the knowledge to transfer it. And you refuse to tell me where he is. I let you have that, as a courtesy you don’t deserve. Even if I sent my trackers after him, I doubt they’d be able to find him. The hermit is quite skilled in evasion. Still, I know you’ve probably figured out together how to get it out without dying. It’s not a matter of just knowing how to do it; if somepony else had the talent to pull this off, I’d kill you now.”

The cowardly unicorn looked as if he wanted to bolt, “The filly isn’t ready. I need more time… It’s hard enough forcing all this knowledge onto her with my brother trying to protect her. Putting it into her now would probably kill her. She’s the only appropriate vessel. And she’s more powerful than any Argon in history… She’s more powerful than you- and that’s no disrespect, sir!”

“And you’re sure you’d be able to wipe her soul upon the transfer’s success?”

Uncle Tatius moved in as close as he dared, “She would be yours… an absolute puppet with more power than you can probably imagine.”

The “commander” snorted, his intense eyes and fiery mane visible under the hood, “I can imagine pretty big, Tatius. But if she’s half as powerful as what you tell me, you’ll get the full reward. In fact, it’s a bargain for me… that some pathetic mage like you would sell out his own niece for only 200,000 gold pieces. I’d’ve paid more than that.”

“Only 200,000? I could start 10 new lives with that and never want for anything. I like living… And I hate that life in Oswald; this would be the end of it. If I can get away with both of those things, I’m okay with it. And that little filly… as far as anypony knows, she’ll have just died in the river or something.”

The cloaked figure’s voice was barely a murmur, “Very well. How long do you need? But watch yourself. I’m so very tired of you dodging.”

Uncle Tatius swallowed the vomit threatening to rise up, “I need two months. I need that much time. It’s the absolute earliest she’d be ready… I’m sure of that.”

“I will give you three months. I expect you to push her as if you had only two. You will push her as hard as possible, while keeping up appearances.”

The mage all but bowed, “Thank you! That will be time enough. I promise you… she will be ready and so will I.”

“Good. Now… you know how this operates: in three months’ time, give or take a few days, I will arrive in Oswald. You will not know I’m coming, so be prepared. Even if we must render her unconscious, we’re taking you and that filly for the operation. If nopony impedes us, it will be a quiet exit.

“And know this: with me, I will bring a detachment of my very best stallions. If you fail me… if you cannot deliver the moment I ask it of you… I will wipe Oswald and all with it of the face of the Earth!”

Unable to speak, Uncle Tatius nodded frantically.

With that, the cloaked stallion left.

Sitting in a puddle of his own making, Uncle Tatius managed to down his drink.

Looking on, the three silent spectators were shocked. Little Zyra was staggered, but she continued to explore the mindscape of her uncle.

The next place Zyra looked was immediately following her running away from her father and uncle, when she had heard them in the woodshed.

It was clear to Ama, Noach, and little Zyra it was, give or take a few days, three months since the meeting in the city.

“Tatius! What’s wrong with you, today?!” Nestor eyed his brother with loathing.

Uncle Tatius knew he would be called upon, possibly at any moment, to fulfill his disgusting bargain, “I’m just worried about Zyra… she wasn’t ready to hear any of that!”

“You’re damn straight! And she’s not ready, period! As soon as we find her, I’m going to make sure she spends a little less time with you.”

This obviously worried Uncle Tatius. But his worries went unnoticed by the few out looking for Zyra.

Soon, Nestor threw in the towel, “Everypony, let’s go back. She’ll come back when she wants to. She’ll show up and if she doesn’t, we’ll actually search for her. Don’t worry… she knows these woods as well as she knows the town.”

Content with this, the hoofful of ponies out looking for the little unicorn filly trotted out of the woods and back to town. As they went about their business, Uncle Tatius was on pins and needles as he made his way to the magic guild. He knew very well that his “client” could show up any moment- Hell, somepony could come up behind him and tap him on the-

“Tatius. It’s time.”

The mage turned around slowly, his bowels already threatening release. There stood the “commander”. He was disguised as a traveler, his fiery mane subdued. But his eyes were the same and they bored into Uncle Tatius.

The mage stammered and soiled himself where he stood.

The visiting unicorn looked down with disgust at the diarrhea pooling, “That better mean you’re happy to see me, Tatius.”

“I… I… the filly… my niece is in the woods. She ran off an hour ago,” Uncle Tatius managed.

The penetrating eyes bored further, “And why did she run away?”

Torn between telling the truth and lying, he chose both, “My brother and I were arguing. It scared her. She ran away.”

“Why do I have the feeling you’re lying to me?” the visitor hissed.

Uncle Tatius threw himself to the “commander’s” hooves, “She heard us talking about the Fire Diamond! My brother’s been hounding me about the amount of time I have Zyra training. He took me out to the shed to discuss it, and she heard us! Please forgive me!”

The standing unicorn breathed deeply, “I told you… if you failed me… Oswald would pay the price. You’ve failed catastrophically. And now you will have your reward.”

His fiery mane flared up and he cast aside his cloak. He lit up his horn and sent a tiny spark into the sky. Above the town, it popped inoffensively, but a barrier could be seen descending on the town. It settled, enclosing the town in a column.

Pillars of fire erupted from the ground, obliterating everything in their path. Ponies around the town screamed. And from the shadows, emerged unicorns shrouded in black; they began to blow fire from their mouths, lighting everything nearby on fire. As ponies tried to escape town, it was clear they were unable to do this; the barrier held against all attempts.

The fiery-maned unicorn enveloped Uncle Tatius in a magic bubble and began to walk, “Let’s go find this family of yours, shall we?”

Ama could see little Zyra was practically having a panic attack at this, but the little one still managed to shadow her uncle as he was dragged along within his memory. Ama and Noach followed.

Outside of the Argon household, Nestor and one of his sons looked on as the pillars rose; everypony else was inside. A blast of fire suddenly engulfed the house. Screams issued from within and the family began to pour out. Quickly counting, Nestor realized everypony was out.

As they sat in front of the ruins of their house, the family came to face about 25 ponies. Among them was the fiery-maned stallion and Nestor saw his brother in the bubble.

Nestor stood up, looking both terrified and repulsed, “‘Fire Breathers’…”

The leader of the “Fire Breathers” laughed openly, shaking Uncle Tatius around in the bubble, “Indeed we are, Nestor Argon. I suppose you can’t imagine why we’re here in your little seaweed town…”

“I can think of a thousand reasons, ‘Commander’… that’s what I’ve heard you called… But I don’t know why. What do you want? Whatever it may be, take it, pull down your barrier, and leave!”

The “commander” motioned to Nestor’s brother, “We’re here because your brother promised us something. Your little daughter… Zyra.”

Nestor’s mouth fell open and his family cried out.

The Argon patriarch looked sick, “Tatius? What would they want with Zyra?”

Uncle Tatius couldn’t look his brother in the eye; he sat mute.

“Oh, Nestor…" the "commander" chuckled, "I want the Fire Diamond… and the filly it’ll go with, once we crack her open.”

Nestor roared and lunged.

The “commander” shook his head, “None of that, now.”

Nestor was halted. An explosion lit up his forehead. He screamed, falling over, his horn blown off.

The “commander” winced, laughing, “In fact, I don’t feel like putting up with any of that.”

At his signal, all of Zyra’s family lost their horns. The little ones’ cries mingled with the older ponies.

Uncle Tatius screamed within the bubble, barely audible.

The “commander” looked at him, amused, “Oh, you don’t like that? How about this?”

One of the “Fire Breathers” sent out a blast. To the family’s horror, one of the infants was blown to ashes. As their screams of shock rang out, more blasts were sent out. Within seconds, half the family no longer existed.

Then the torturing began. Despite the pleas and ear-piercing cries, the “Fire Breathers” methodically dismantled and murdered the family with flame and electricity.

Ama had to look away. Noach managed to not avert his eyes; he’d never turned away from such things when he was within a mind, even though he avoided them when he could in the waking world. Zyra stood, mouth slightly agape; she saw all this. Her brothers… her sisters… her mother… and then her father was the only one left.

Nestor sat there, looking defeated.

The “commander” jostled Uncle Tatius’s bubble, “Oh, look what you did to your brother, Tatius. He’s sad. Why don’t I put him out of his misery?”

In a blast, there was nothing left of Nestor.

Uncle Tatius had nothing left. He sat there, numb.

“Well, that’s enough of that,” the “commander” casually stated.

He released the mage from the bubble. Free of it, he fell over.

“Looks like I need to get your attention,” with that, the “commander” blew off one of Uncle Tatius’s back hooves.

The mage howled, as if he was feeling pain for the first time in his life.

“We’re going to play a little game, Tatius… the barrier comes down in an hour. If you manage to find your way out of the town, we’ll pick you up. We’ll find your niece and see the operation done. After that happens… I don’t care whether you live or die. I’ll give you the gold, if you decide to live. If you die in here, we’ll retrieve the gem once you’re dead. We’ll still find the filly and your hermit. Either way, I get what I want. Better put up a barrier of your own, Tatius. Things are about to get a little hotter.”

With that, all the “Fire Breathers” vanished in a puff of smoke. Tatius, desperate to remain alive, despite what had happened, managed a barrier as fire engulfed the whole town.

Ama, Noach, and Zyra all watched in horror as everything around them burned… Ponies, property… it all burned. Other than the horror, they were quite numb, now.

The three waited. And they knew Zyra would be along soon enough.

After an hour of watching Uncle Tatius cower in his barrier near the house, the three mind-walkers saw Zyra show up from out of the woods. They followed her as she desperately dragged her uncle to safety. And they saw her collapse, sobbing at the forest’s edge.

Ama’s mind was moving furiously; she could scarcely believe any of this.

Oswald hadn’t been attacked because somepony hired the “Fire Breathers” and not because of some grudge. Oswald had been destroyed out of simple wickedness; that worthless mage couldn’t immediately provide something that fiery-looking unicorn wanted, so he’d destroyed the town and murdered all its ponies as easily as throwing a stick into a firepit.

And so began that long, miserable journey to Aeolus’s, once again… just from a different point of view. There was little to say about this that wasn’t already known by the three mind-walkers. But Uncle Tatius seemed to be doing better than he should’ve and it was seen why. When Zyra slept, he pulled energy out of her- just enough to “top him off”. It exhausted Zyra but didn’t kill her. Still, she moved almost tirelessly to save her uncle.

Since the three were in Uncle Tatius’s mind, they could see things Zyra missed. Once she’d eaten her fill and fallen asleep at Aeolus’s sanctuary in the woods, the older stallions talked.

Aeolus gently treated Uncle Tatius’s stump, “You’re in better shape than you should be. Don’t tell me you’ve been draining your niece…”

“Of course, I’ve been. I need my strength… I’ll need it for the operation.”

“You’re far too weak to even consider it. It’ll be weeks before you recover.”

Uncle Tatius smirked, “And I can wait. I’ve thrown off the ‘Fire Breathers’. There’s no way they’ll find us here; you know that as well as me. It’ll be at least a month, but I can wait. Once I’m ready, we’ll do it. She’ll fall asleep as herself… and wake up as my own personal weapon. I’ll wake up before she ever does. Containing her soul will be easy for me. It’s not something you’ll be able to do… your talents lie elsewhere.

“I’m gonna kill the ‘Fire Breathers’. All of them… Hell, I’ll even share their treasure with you. I know where they reside… and where they’re planning to go once that damned war in the valley is over.”

Aeolus allowed a smile to cross his face, “Yes… with her power… you could obliterate them. We just have to bide our time. And you have to heal up.”

Uncle Tatius patted his stump, wincing, “That’ll be easy.”

All the three mind-walkers could do was look on, more and more sickened.

Suddenly, Ama felt the bottom fall out of the space they were inside.

Now back in Zyra’s own memory, she was held in a magical forcefield. Only a few minutes had passed in this realm. Aeolus must have come back for something.

He shook the filly, “You little cunt! What have you been up to?”

Zyra was so shaken up by everything, she just hung there.

Her uncle woke up, “What’s going on, Aeolus?”

“Your niece was reading your mind! How could you be so careless?!”

“She what?!”

Zyra still hung there. But her eyes were coming back to awareness. Tears streamed down. She didn’t even have it in her to be angry; she wasn’t sure what to feel.

“Uncle…” she croaked. “Why?”

It was all she could get out.

Aeolus considered his friend, “Is she ready, Tatius?”

For possibly the first time in weeks, uncle felt love for niece, but, “She’s ready. So am I.”

Zyra was gripped with dread, “Uncle?”

He looked back, the love gone, “Goodbye, Zyra…”

Suddenly, the space around Ama and Noach shuddered and collapsed on itself. Ama felt a tremendous pressure before clocking out. It was quite unlike Zyra passing out or falling asleep, as they’d become accustomed to.

Ama found herself in total darkness, but still had ground beneath her. She was gasping as she lay there, feeling as ill as she ever had. Feeling as if she’d just had her bell rung, she staggered to her hooves.

Weeping over everything she’d been experiencing, she felt around in desperation, “Noach!”

A gentle hoof found her shoulder, “I’m here, Ama.”

“What happened?!”

Noach explained, “It’s as we saw earlier… We can only see the things Zyra remembers. She’s been rendered unconscious; it was rough. I managed to stay alert when the space fell in… we’ve only been this way a couple minutes. And we may be sitting her for a while. Stay close and try to remain calm.”

And sit they did. They experienced real-time within Zyra’s memory… and they waited a good four days in absolute darkness. Ama fell asleep as often as she was able within Zyra’s mind. It was rather easy in the darkness, with only Noach’s and her own breathing and heartbeat reminding her she was there. It was the only relief from the terror of the fearful darkness.

Noach just sat there, waiting.

Neither needing to eat or drink, being “less than ghosts”, all there was to do was sit.

“Ama.”

The Mazan awoke… or at least she thought she was awake, “Noach? Am I dreaming? I truly cannot tell…”

“You’re awake, Ama. Zyra’s beginning to stir. She will regain consciousness momentarily.”

And so, she did. Ama and Noach found themselves in the familiar room. Zyra was stirring on the bed. Ama was disturbed upon closer inspection of Zyra’s body: a line of staples ran down her sternum. Magical restraints held her fast.

Ama fell to her knees, “Noach… they did it. Zyra… she has the diamond…”

Noach put a soothing hoof on Ama’s shoulder as the Mazan sobbed.

The both could only look on miserably as Zyra came to her senses. The little filly screamed bloody murder upon seeing her chest.

Aeolus entered the room, “Calm down, little mage… yelling won’t do you any good.”

Zyra looked at him wildly and in perfect panic, “What’d you do to me?! It hurts!”

“Calm yourself. The trauma of splitting your sternum is quite substantial. You don’t want to rupture the repair.”

But Zyra probably didn’t even hear him; she continued to scream in disbelief at what happened to her.

“You may feel different otherwise… that’s quite a gem I put inside of you. You’ll feel power like nothing you’ve imagined…”

Zyra had a moment of clarity, “Where’s Uncle Tatius?!”

Taking on a look somewhere between sadness and curiosity over the whole thing, “You forced our hoof, little mage. You were strong enough to make it through, but he wasn’t. He managed to hold on until last night but taking the Fire Diamond ultimately claimed his life. He had no chance to wipe your mind. It’s your own, as the gem is. Had we been able to wait a few days, he'd likely be here still.”

Zyra could only scream and thrash around. Blood began to seep from her sternum.

“You stupid little girl. Stop this at once. You don’t have the magic to break those bonds. All you’ll do is slow your recovery.”

Zyra roared at him, “You’re dead!”

He actually laughed; she was showing real hatred, “Oh, shut up. You’ll stay like this until I figure out what your uncle can’t do when he’s dead. I’m not interested in killing those 'Fire Breather' mercenaries or whatever they are, but I’m most interested in you. You’ll make quite a weapon once I find a way to contain that soul of yours.”

At this, Zyra raged; a mixture of spells and foul language poured from her mouth, her horn sparking feebly.

“You really are a stupid little girl. You don’t listen. This is getting old. I think I’ll knock you out until I can figure out what to do with you…”

As he approached, Zyra’s instincts kicked in; she called on a new, yet seemingly familiar power. Energy burst from her, propelling the old healer into the wall. The restraints melted from her body, and she levitated off the bed.

Aeolus was now very afraid, facing down this filly, “Now, Zyra… don’t do anything-”

Zyra opened her mouth and let out a blast of fire. Calling it a blast didn’t do it justice. To Ama and Noach, it appeared as dragon fire, but even more extraordinary. Everything in the fire’s path… Aeolus, half of his house, and a swath of forest the size of Oswald… were reduced to less than ash. The forest floor was glass. It had been unclear until then, but it was pouring rain outside.

After a few seconds, Zyra eased down to the floor. As if she was coming out of a trance, she staggered backwards, realizing what she’d just done. Ama and Noach could see her deliberating within her own mind.

Zyra ran through the muddy forest. She just ran, sobbing raggedly. Not knowing where she was going or what she was doing, she just ran. Ama and Noach followed. It was quite a while before Zyra collapsed. She lay there, panting and vomiting bile; she had nothing else in her stomach.

Once again, Ama and Noach felt the world around them fall into darkness. Zyra was clocking out again.

This time, Zyra was only out about 12 hours. When she awoke, it was night. She was cold. Her chest hurt. Her stomach growled. She was thirsty. She satisfied two of these things, eating a patch of clover and sticking her face into a mud puddle.

Turning over onto her back, rain continued to fall. She just lay there, shivering violently, the mud and blood gradually washing off her body. She couldn’t really move, beginning to sob once again.

Ama shuddered, “I do not know how much more of this I can take, Noach… This is too much!”

She fell to her knees, weeping. It didn’t readily occur to her, but she and Noach had spent six weeks in Zyra’s mind. She’d had no food or water in six weeks. Still, she wasn’t hungry or thirsty.

She’d barely even thought about the rest of the company, not since soon after entering. This had been her everything. She’d had more than anypony could take. Any more time in Zyra’s horrid remembrance… and she was sure she’d lose her mind or die.

Noach kneaded her shoulder, “Ama… You’ve done better than anypony could imagine. I didn’t know what we’d run into in here, but I’m so very glad you were the one I chose. This has been worse than anything I’ve ever seen, felt, or heard in my life. Nopony other than you would’ve stood a chance in here. You have the stoutest heart of anypony I’ve ever known, by far. I can’t possibly make this up to you. Even your friendship with Zyra… this might not have been worth it to you, but I can tell you yet love your friend.”

Ama didn’t like thinking this way; but it was a powerful thought, “Oh, Noach… I do not know what to think. I… just want this to be over.”

“And it will be soon Ama… look.”

Looking up, Ama saw a unicorn stallion trotting through the forest. His face betrayed… kindness. Caught unaware by almost tripping over the delirious filly, he was brought to his knees at the sight of her.

Ama wasn’t sure how she knew, “That is Zyra’s master… Amelbert.”

“Yes, Ama. I know him, myself. Any magic user worth his salt knows of Master Amelbert.”

Watching him cradle the semiconscious Zyra, Ama felt a weight lift from her heart. She felt more relief than she had in six weeks’ time. She could only stand up again and view their surroundings fade out; Zyra was falling asleep again.

As darkness descended on them, Ama let out a sigh, “Something tells me that is the end of our journey.”

“Indeed, Ama. I can go no further. I’m leaving it to you.”

Ama couldn’t see a thing now; confusion dawned, “What do you mean, Noach?”

“The path to Zyra’s essence is open. You need only to walk. You’ll find it.”

“What about you, Noach?”

The old healer chuckled, “I told you… I can go no further. Zyra’s aware you’re here. She’s… calling out to you… I’m unsure. She knows someone she loves very much and trusts as much is looking for her.”

Ama was unsure how to feel, “I am afraid.”

Noach nodded in the dark, “I know, Ama. Still, she calls to you. I’ll be leaving now. I’ll keep the connection open as long as it’s needed. When you’re ready, you’ll simply come to yourself, beside me, where we began our journey all those weeks ago.”

There was little else to say for Ama, “I understand. Thank you.”

Noach left Zyra’s mind. Ama began to walk. Deciding to have faith she’d find whatever it was she needed to, she began to walk. She noticed, for the first time in six weeks, a stimulus other than sight, sound, and Noach’s touch.

There was… a beacon. Somewhere in there, there was a beacon of confused emotions. It was weak, but there.

Ama was in total darkness. All she had was the level space beneath her hooves. Afraid, yet determined, she walked in the general direction of this feeling.

With little idea how long she’d been walking, Ama continued. The feeling grew stronger. She recalled Noach referring to a “ghost” of the memory. It still made no sense, but there was something waiting for her.

Minutes, hours, days… it didn’t matter.

After an inordinate amount of time walking, Ama felt something new. It wasn’t evil or threatening; it just was. She turned around and found herself in a plane of white. Something told her this was where she was supposed to be.

Turning around again, Ama saw something a distance away. It was a pony in a blanket, lying on what constituted the floor. Ama knew it was Zyra.

Walking up easily, Ama spoke softly to the figure, “Zyra.”

The blanket shifted as the pony underneath stirred. The blanket shuffled around, and the sandy mane Ama was familiar with appeared. Then Zyra’s head poked out. The eyes Ama was familiar with looked towards her, dull and metallic. Further rolling out of the blanket, Zyra exposed herself. Ama saw it was Zyra as she knew her… 17-years-old and plain, but attractive.

Taking in Zyra’s appearance, Ama smiled, “My friend… I have not seen you for some time.”

Zyra gave an all-in look and hoofed the ground, “Ama… how’d you get in here?”

Ama realized she’d been searching for Zyra as long as she’d known her, literally, “It is quite a story, Zyra. Now may not be the time to tell it.”

Zyra shook her head, “Whatever. I imagine you’ve been looking for me. Just what have you been up to?”

Ama saw no point in hiding it, “I have been traveling through your memories, Zyra. After the night we were attacked, you left us, spiritually. Back in the waking world, you have been a shell of yourself for 10 days.”

Zyra showed little emotion at this, “I see… and how long have you been rifling through my mind?”

“Six weeks… I have been trying to find you for six weeks… and possibly longer. I must admit… the horrors you live with shook me in ways I never dreamed possible.”

The unicorn paced around, sighing, knowing she had nowhere to hide, “So you know… about all of it. You saw… Oswald… everypony I knew and loved... the ‘Fire Breathers’. You saw the power I have. I’ve been unable to replicate that in all the years this awful gem has been lodged next to my heart.”

Sitting down, Zyra parted her chest floof, considering her scar, “This thing has really faded. You no doubt saw this in my memory. Waking up, realizing that power… it’s difficult to describe. But you saw… I don’t need to try to explain.”

“Did your master know of the Fire Diamond?” Ama hated asking but wanted clarity.

Zyra actually chuckled, “There’s no hiding this miserable thing from Master Amelbert. He knew what I had the moment he came across me. But he protected me. As far as everypony knows, this is just an old injury and I’m merely an above-average fire mage. As far as I know, you and Master Amelbert are the only ponies living that know this secret. I expect anypony that knows of the Fire Diamond figures it lost… that my… uncle… escaped that nightmare he brought upon us… and that the little filly that ran off that day… just died in a ditch somewhere.”

Ama had been confused at Zyra’s general lack of emotion but mention of her uncle brought some things out. The little mage teared up and began to weep. Ama went to her and hugged her. Zyra cried and cried into Ama’s shoulder. After a while, they separated and sat next to one another, in that void. For some time, they just sat.

“Ama… I don’t know what to do. I’ve been trapped in here with my thoughts all this time. I think… I’m ready to go back. But I don’t know what to say… what to do…”

Ama patted Zyra’s back, “I do not know myself. But our friends want you back. If you are indeed ready, all you must do is let go. And we will wake up in a town called Silas. Our friends are in the next room of a little cottage we have rented. Beside me is a stallion named Noach; he helped guide me through all this. You will like him.”

“Ama… I don’t know a thing about mind-walking… but you could’ve left at any time… But you stayed here for… weeks. Why?”

Ama could tell the little mage was serious; still, she marshaled a smile that shined from the bottom of her heart, “You are my friend, Zyra. You are… the first friend I think I have ever had. I was not about to leave you alone in here.”

The Mazan put a friendly hoof on the unicorn’s shoulder and roughly jostled her, eliciting a laugh from Zyra.

Zyra sighed heavily, “I’m ready to go back, Ama.”

Ama had never felt such relief, “You have no idea how welcome those words are.”

For the final time, Ama experienced the space falling in on itself. But this time, she would appear in the waking world, with Zyra.

Author's Note

Check out the Appendix for Princess Essenta, updated as the story moves along. It shows the story's timeline and character designs. Contains spoilers.

Apologies for switching release dates with The Virgin Company chapter. Was having trouble with rewriting Zyra's mindscape. But there it was. I wasn't looking forward to releasing this chapter. I knew it wouldn't be a pleasant one, but it's Zyra's life. And things will improve for the girls. Many more adventures ahead.

Next time, the party finishes licking its wounds and moves on to happier times.

If the reader has been thinking about where the company might be by the less than stellar depictions of the country they've been traveling through, the girls are around modern-day Ponyville. As things are better, they will soon be in the Everfree Forest vicinity, but as I told a reader the whole land is wild. The Everfree Forest is what the world would be like if ponies didn't have their modern control over nature.

Expect a break next week. New chapter May 3. I have to tune up a tractor that hasn't moved in a couple years.

Like, follow, or leave a comment if you please. And please stick with the story. It's been fun writing it and I'm glad some enjoy it.

Thanks for reading, and take care. Enjoy the nice spring weather that's finally showed up.

Chapter 22: Return to the Journey

Healing Arc

“Good, Orni… Now I’m going to let go,” Dechaa took her magical support away from the Knollwing.

Essenta and her friends watched as Orni took a few tentative steps. She was as wobbly as a newborn foal, but she managed to walk from Dechaa across the cabin’s yard to Loress on the other side. Orni made it but stumbled at the very end.

Loress easily caught her, “That’s the best you’ve done, yet. Rest a moment and then try to go back to Dechaa.”

Orni panted, sweating with exertion, “I’ll try. Oh! Am I tired!”

Loress chuckled, ruffling her mane, “I know you want to sit down, but it’ll just be harder for you to start again.”

Essenta smiled at Orni’s progress; it had been a week since Ama and Noach rejoined them after their journey into Zyra’s mind. Wilka wasn’t doing quite as well but was improving. Both had the will to get their legs back under them. The diet, potions, and exercise Noach had prescribed were visibly helping and the girls grew stronger by the day. If they were unable to leave Silas in another week, they’d be able to soon after.

The princess and her friends still didn’t know just what went on between Zyra and Ama. Zyra wasn’t keen on sharing and Ama honored that. But Zyra at least seemed at peace, pulled out of her catatonic state. Still not her "usual", laidback self, she no longer spent all her time in bed. She happened to be watching the progress of Wilka and Orni, but more often sat in the woods, thinking.

What the company did know, was Ama and Noach spent six weeks in Zyra’s memory. To the company, in the waking world, the two had been gone an entire afternoon. Essenta wouldn’t say the ordeal changed Ama, but Zyra seemed much closer to Ama and vice versa. Ama had never been an anxious mare, but she now had an indescribable calm about her. Noach had explained one thing: Ama had learned to center herself. It was the only thing that kept her sane, really.

The girls realized just what going into Zyra’s memories would have entailed… and Noach was correct in his thinking. Ama was the only one of them that could handle what had been in there.

Pulled from her thoughts by loud giggling, Essenta came to her senses and saw Orni happily hugging Dechaa as the rest of the girls expressed their congratulations. Orni had made another full length of the yard. Now she was able to sit down and flumped to the ground with a sigh.

“Somepony stick a fork in me; I’m done…” Orni lamented to the amusement of her friends.

Loress, having followed her across the yard in case she fell, again ruffled Orni’s mane, “Very good, Orni. Wilka! Think you’re up for a try?”

Wilka tried sitting up straight; she’d not been able yet to make a length of yard by herself, “I’ll try.”

With bated breath, the company watched. She made it more than halfway across the yard before she had to sit.

“That’s… all I have.”

Dechaa assisted her back to the rest, “It’s okay. A couple days ago, you couldn’t even get in three steps. You’re doing fine.”

It was lunchtime on Saturday. The fall weather was definitely there to be felt. Taking advantage of the waning pleasant weather, they picnicked outside. Loress had made apple pie, which was as welcome as anything for dessert.

The company had decided to take Saturdays and Sundays off for the rest of their time in Silas. And when they weren’t working, they spent time with each other at the cabin. They just needed the comradery more than ever. It had been a rough week, as they continued licking their wounds.

Upon finishing lunch, Zyra and Ama went for a walk in the woods. The rest of the company tried to quell their curiosity about what the two discussed. Ama now shared a bond with Zyra unlike anything else, and the girls chose to respect that. Spending a month-and-a-half searching around somepony’s memories was no small thing.

And if Zyra was never ready to talk about things, they’d have to accept that. What mattered was Zyra was better. They were all alive and the young ones were improving. Essenta had kicked the bottle, again, and was working as Dechaa, Ama, and Loress did, as a milk delivery pony. And nopony other than Noach knew who they were.

While Zyra and Ama were on their walk, Essenta and Loress decided to go on one of their own. Leaving Dechaa with Wilka and Orni, they headed into town.

Since the night of the attack, Essenta had been relying on Loress more and more, she’d found. Ama may have found greater clarity and Dechaa was still her very best friend, but Loress had become her advisor. And Essenta wasn’t even aware of it; Loress had some idea… Noach had told her, after all.

“I’m just not sure of myself, so much, Loress. I know I keep griping about it, but I’m starting to think more and more this stupid quest is more trouble than it’s worth.”

Loress chose to act as a sounding board; the princess was thinking aloud, more than anything. Loress knew as well and maybe even better than the princess… Hell, they all knew it: they couldn’t just tuck tail and head to the Dale. Essenta, Dechaa, and Zyra would be in for a rough time if they went home with nothing to show for it. And all the events of the last three weeks hadn’t taken the wind out of their sails… yet anyway. They could keep moving.

Loress had been half-listening; Essenta was now thinking of her family… and her father.

“My brothers should be fine, but I’m worried about Calleha, now. It’ll be another couple years before she’s marriageable, but if Father can’t find a ‘buyer’ for me, he may break decorum and sell her off instead of me…”

There was little need to mention the fact King Dale had probably sent the “Fire Breathers” to capture Essenta and kill the rest of them.

Loress finally had something to say, “First off, Princess, stop talking like you’re going to let your father sell you. I know you won’t let that happen… and we can talk about your sister later. There’s something else more worrisome for the moment.

“This is Noach talking, and not me… but remember: your father probably knows the attack failed. We have no real idea if anypony else is tailing us now, but we’ve seen no evidence since that night. But that may not be an issue. Now, it is more important than ever for your father to hold to decorum. He’ll have to watch himself for a time. You know what would happen if your subjects found out what we’re all but sure he did.”

Casually, Essenta stated, paddling alongside her friend, “They’d try to kill him, probably. At the very least there’d be a riot. That… that can’t happen!”

“No point in worrying about ‘can’t’, Princess. Unfortunately, Zyra all but left a signature stating we know the ‘Fire Breathers’ were the ones that did it. If your father indeed has ties to them, he might know they were the ones that destroyed Zyra’s hometown. We shouldn’t assume he had anything to do with it, just that he may know about it… and if he didn’t know, he’d know by now.

“This isn’t all bad… well, no, it’s all very bad, but we may have an advantage here. I don’t like using the term ‘game’, but it’s become a game. If he thinks we know, it really limits his choices. If you even cast suspicion upon him… that might be unrecoverable for him. He may be counting on the idea we choose to keep quiet about it. It would be bad for him, but if you accused him, it wouldn’t do us any good as we are. So… he may do nothing. He would benefit from doing nothing; it would be easier for him to cover his ass if something comes to take a bite of it.”

Essenta had been listening carefully, “The logic makes sense. But you don’t know my father… he’s foolish. And knowing him, I doubt anypony beyond those that are completely loyal to him have any idea we were attacked. But there’s no telling if word has gotten north about the bounty. All it would take is a rumor of a bounty on my head and I don’t even know what would happen back home.”

Loress considered, “We can speculate he’ll keep any of that quiet, but it depends on his reach… in the light and dark parts of the world. If he knows somepony worse, he may try again. But it’s unlikely he knows anypony worse. To sum things up, we’re probably free to continue. It’s unlikely your father will attempt to come after us again. We must be watchful, but I doubt we’re in any real danger. I trust Noach’s judgement on the matter: considering we obliterated and… tortured… ‘Fire Breathers’, the most feared assassins on the continent, most criminals and bounty hunters able to learn a thing about it will steer clear.”

Essenta looked like death, “We must remember ‘most’… So, what? Now we have to watch out for whole armies and things even worse?”

“As was said, we might be safe. Don’t fret over it… you’ll start to lose your mane.”

The princess gawked, “Not worry?”

Loress looked ahead, “Yup. Don’t worry… Princess, we’re stuck here another week-and-a-half… maybe two weeks. I have a feeling that things will become clearer before then. Until then, we keep our heads low and act like the travelers we kind of are.”

“So… what next?”

“Well, Princess, I know you want to go home again, don’t you?”

Essenta waxed, “Yes! I want to go home! It’s… my home.”

The Terran stopped a moment, pleased with Essenta’s occasional resolve, “Well, then no change for now. We keep moving south… make a name for ourselves… and go to the Dale as heroes.”

Essenta moaned, “You make it sound simple.”

Loress smiled, “It really is… it’s the details that might kill us. That aside, have you given any thought as to what you’ll do when we get to the Dale?”

“Not an everfucking thing, Loress…” Essenta practically whined.

Resuming their walk, Loress smirked, “I have a few ideas.”

“Like what?”

“We can talk about it later,” Loress said coyly. “For now, my sweet tooth demands more. Let’s go see if the crepe stand is open.

Having had some wild berry crepes and ice cream, Essenta and Loress made their way back to the cabin. Just a moment later, they spotted Zyra and Ama trotting back as well.

Zyra was… smiling and giggling; Ama was doing the same. It was an odd thing, seeing two mares, one twice the size of the other, giggling like little fillies. Seeing this warmed Essenta’s heart. She hadn’t seen Zyra smile in almost three weeks.

Another pleasant surprise was in store: Noach walked out of the cabin alongside Dechaa, the two of them chatting happily.

Essenta waved to him, “Hello, Noach!”

He smiled, “Hello, Princess. I’m sorry to stop by unannounced, but things were slow at the pub. Thought I’d come check on the girls. They’re doing quite well. It won’t be a week, but they should be able to travel again before two.”

This was good news.

Zyra and Ama made their way to them; Ama grinned, “Good day, Noach!”

“Ama,” he replied, then looked to Zyra. “And how are you today, Zyra?”

Zyra marshaled a pleasant look, “I’m… feeling okay. It’s nice to walk around… look at the woods.”

Noting the melancholy Zyra radiated, he was not discouraged; she was doing much better. These girls were really fortunate to have each other.

Noach considered Zyra, “Zyra… I know you just got back from your walk, but I’d like to talk with you. Would you please come with me? Just to my pub for a little while. You’ll be back for supper.”

Zyra cast a slightly fearful look Ama’s way; Ama smiled and gave an encouraging nod. The other girls seemed to reassure her too.

Zyra relented, “Very well…”

Loress hoofed Zyra, “We’ll see you later, Zyra. And don’t worry about the cooking. I’ll take your place tonight and you can have tomorrow morning. I’ll get to sleep in a little.”

Zyra allowed a little chuckle at that, “Sure. I’ll get some eggs in town. I’ve been wanting an egg bake.”

Egg bake sounded heavenly to all of them. They had vegetables aplenty, so it would make a fine breakfast.

Seeing Zyra off, the girls retired to the cabin to start on the potato dumpling soup recipe Loress had been raving over.

Noach noticed Zyra wasn’t exactly receptive on the walk to his pub, but it didn’t worry him. She was having a pleasant time, at least, enjoying the nice fall weather. He himself noticed. Ponies around them were harvesting their crops and tending to their land. This must have been why the pub was so quiet; ponies had other things to do than drink all day Saturday. He was sure the place would liven up later. Noach and Zyra had the pub to themselves for a time.

Zyra had decided to stay away from alcohol for a while; unlike Essenta, she never really enjoyed it much to begin with, so staying away from it was no chore. She didn’t need anything else clouding her mind. Watching Noach tend to his matters and washing glassware, she sipped on the lemonade he’d made for her; its tartness was quite agreeable.

“Noach… isn’t it about time you said what you were gonna? This is nice and all, but I didn’t come here to sit.”

He looked over, seeing the little mage with her hooves up on the corner of the bar. She had a bored look about her.

“Little mage,” Noach said. “I brought you here because there’s something you wish to talk about.”

She sighed, “Yup… you got me. You and your head magic…”

He tried not to smirk at the comment, “I hadn’t planned on asking you here, but… after your walk with Ama, I saw you. Well, I ‘read’ you, if that means anything. There’s something you want to say… you need to say.”

Zyra hadn’t expected to tear up, but she couldn’t help herself; she’d been constantly close to tears for a few days. She sniffled into her tunic, lowering herself into her chair further.

Noach offered her a clean towel for her face, which she accepted without comment.

“You really do have the very best of friends, Zyra,” the old healer mused. “Your friendship with Ama is particularly strong; nothing else could have seen her through our time in your memory. No amount of focus or resolve can alone sustain a pony in such a place. What you and Ama speak of when you’re alone is not my business. It’s between the two of you. But you have something on your mind… something your friends may be unable to answer, despite their willingness to consider it. You may have thought to ask Orni, but… Orni is still a child in most ways… She just… is.”

Zyra looked to him, ready to spill, “I think I can learn to live with what I did to that stallion that night… It was a lot more than that had me… retreat into myself. We’ve fought… and a few of us have killed in our seven weeks on the road. I think we’ll be able to make peace with that… maybe. We’d likely be dead if we’d done anything different.

“But… you’re right. There’s something… You say you’re just some old army healer, but that’s not all. You lost family to the ‘Fire Breathers’… I know. Dechaa may have the gift of empathy, but most unicorns at least have a vision of it. It’s why I want to ask you… How do I go on living after that? I dream about it… that fiery unicorn and my town… every night. I see… I see them burn.

“I don’t know how I was able to shut things off all those years and try to be happy, but that’s gone! Whatever was keeping this… fury in check disappeared when I saw those stallions try to murder my friends. I don’t know what you’ve seen, but… how did you get on with your life, Noach?”

The old unicorn eyed the weeping teenager for several moments before he was able to answer; sighing, he looked back down to the glass he was washing, “I never did, Zyra… I never let go. All I did was run away. I buried my family and I ran away from Joeh. I ran away from the army. And… I was too afraid to kill myself… I set up this pub and tried to live quietly.

“But my gift… my curse… I cannot shut out the pain of others and I can’t escape it either. Unless I holed up somewhere, where nopony had ever set hoof… there’s no escaping the pain of others. And there’s no escaping my own. The only reason I see to live is… I know I can be of help to others… If I can alleviate their pain, it’s worth it. That’s why I’m still here. It’s all I know to do.

“So… you’re asking the wrong pony. I’ve never confronted my own pain. I don’t even know how I’d start. And forgiveness? Forgive that? Fuck forgiveness. I’m too weak to fight and I’m too weak to forgive. I just ran away.”

Zyra sat rapt, taking in all his words. He seemed a much younger stallion as he laid this out before her. The pain in his eyes was there, but it was dull as if he’d given up long ago. He’d simply learned to live with it.

She didn’t have her answer, but she had an idea and that wasn’t nothing. Feeling… better, she sat up and sucked down the rest of her lemonade.

“Thank you, Noach… Will you be by in a couple days to look in on the girls?”

He managed a pleasant look, “I will be. Make sure you push Wilka. She was more sensitive to the poison than Orni, being a normal Pegasus, but she should be able to make two stretches of the yard by then.”

Zyra nodded, “We’ll put her through her paces. I’m off to buy some eggs for breakfast tomorrow.”

Watching the little mare paddle out of the bar, he called after, “Take care, Miss! And tell ‘Sen’ to not be such a stranger! I’m sure she’ll like the lemonade too. I kinda miss her.”

Zyra chuckled and made her way to the market. Maybe she’d visit the dairy barn, too; they didn’t have Essenta’s work allotment as she took the day off. And what egg bake was complete without cheese?

Over the next few days, Wilka and Orni improved. The rest of the girls worked and tried to blend in. And Essenta did visit Noach, if only to give the old stallion a little company.

And so, two weeks passed, pleasantly, if uneventfully.

Zyra and Ama were taking an afternoon walk. It was Monday, and the company had spent a month in Silas. The leaves had fallen, and the world had changed. Zyra reflected the Dale would already be done with its harvest. A couple weeks and they’d see the autumn rains… and then the snow.

It had been just over two months since Essenta, Dechaa, and Zyra had set out from their home.

Ama looked around at the now bare trees, “I saw this last year. Deciduous trees are certainly a delight. Mazan is… what your folk call a rainforest. I must confess… I do not miss the humidity.”

Zyra watched with a little smile as Ama flopped into a pile of leaves on the path, gathering them up and throwing hooffuls into the air. She remembered playing in leaves when she was a filly. Ama never had the luxury, and among friends, saw no harm in enjoying herself as a mare.

Zyra laughed aloud when Ama got a snootful of leaf litter and began to sneeze repeatedly. Ama looked up at her and playfully tossed some in Zyra’s face. So, Zyra responded by magicking a wall of leaves and burying her friend.

Ama emerged, shaking herself and laughing, “You win, little mage… Well… enough frolicking. We must go pack. We are finally ready to leave this lovely place… I will miss it, but we have been away from the quest for too long.”

Ama began walking back towards the cabin when Zyra spoke, “Ama…”

She turned, “Yes, Zyra… what is it?”

Zyra shuffled her hooves, “There’s… something I wish to ask you… but I’m afraid to.”

Ama went to her friend and sat her on a fallen log; she sat down next to her, “Zyra. You are my friend. You are… my best friend. Please ask me anything.”

Zyra couldn’t help but giggle at Ama jostling her, despite the severity of her question; she loved when Ama jostled her, “How much did you see… when you were in my mind?”

Ama exhaled; that was a heavy question, “Zyra… I experienced those six weeks alongside Noach. I saw your waking moments from the day you ran from your father and uncle, to the day your master picked you up and took you with him. I saw… your uncle’s mind. And I saw the leader of the ‘Fire Breathers’, his true face… and that which they did.”

Zyra tucked up her back legs, peering between her hooves, “I see…”

Ama moved to make eye contact, “I am no seer, but that is not what you want to know. What is it you wish to ask me?”

The little unicorn fidgeted and choked, “Do you think I’m a monster?”

Ama was a little surprised at that; Zyra had blurted it out. But she knew what Zyra was referring to… that tremendous energy she’d been unable to replicate… and what she’d done with it. Ama surely saw that, but they’d never gotten past simply acknowledging it.

Ama’s answer was stout, “Never. You are no monster. You are our friend… our little mage. Cast such thinking aside.”

Feeling as if yet another weight had lifted, Zyra stood up, “I feel… better now. I don’t know why I was worried about such a thing.”

Ama considered, “Do not trap things within you. When you have a concern… let us know. And we will see it through with you.”

With new spirit, Zyra took off down the path, Ama alongside her.

The girls spent one last night in the cabin, making sure their refuge was ready for whatever other weary travelers made their way to Silas. Sleeping well, they greeted a new day.

“We can’t thank you enough for all you’ve done for us, Noach,” Loress held his hooves, unable to keep from choking up a bit.

Essenta smiled, “Yes… Thanks for… Thanks for everything.”

Noach grinned, “And thank you for keeping an old stallion company… all of you. I hope you come through again, under happier circumstances. Remember… the weakness won’t be fully gone for another week or so, so don’t overdo it. You hear me, Wilka, Orni?”

The young ones nodded. They were back to normal, other than their endurance; resilience would come with time.

“And Zyra,” Noach continued. “Be strong. Be a stronger pony than this old fool.”

Zyra could only nod at the sage advice. Nopony else knew just what that meant, but let it go.

As the girls began to walk, they looked back to Noach.

“You girls be careful. And pleasant journey!”

They waved to the old barkeep, and made their way south.

Noach made his way back to his pub. Normally he’d open for lunch on a Tuesday but there was a pressing matter that needed attending, now that the princess was gone. Noach went to the back room, where he kept a small study. Casting aside a sheet on his desk, he revealed a crystal ball. Sitting down in his chair, he tapped on it.

After a few moments, a rather young-looking Earth pony stallion within the ball gave a pleasant grin, “Noach! Hello… my old friend.”

“It’s been some time, Drausus,” Noach smiled back sadly.

Drausus sighed, “I’d like to be glad to see your face, but judging by your appearance, I know this is something of significance. What do you have to say?”

“It involves Aodh Radulf.”

Drausus took on a most ferocious look, “What do you know?”

Noach sat back in his chair, “I will tell you shortly, but I must explain a few things first. A few weeks back, I met a most interesting party of young mares… heading to the jungles of the south.”

Drausus brought his face close, “You’ve met Princess Essenta, the daughter of Dale?”

“Indeed. And I met her friends… It’s true, what we’ve heard: the daughter of Argon is with her. It was their misfortune… and our chance … that they ran into some trouble on their way to Silas. They were accosted by the ‘Fire Breathers’. Two of the mares were overcome by their methods… it was just the last few days they were back to normal. The rest of them not only managed to fight the assassins, but they slaughtered them.”

Drausus hissed, “Enough storytelling, Noach! Tell me what you know.”

“I am telling you,” Noach calmly replied. “Princess Essenta has gathered some powerful friends. The attack left Zyra Argon more than a little out of sorts. She was closed off from herself for 10 days. One of Essenta’s friends accompanied me into her mindscape… we spent six whole weeks in there. But Ama of the clan Waterfall was able to get through to her.”

“Waterfall? The Mazans?!”

“Yes, Drausus… she was actually the first to join the three Dale mares.”

“We can discuss the mares later! What is it you have to say?”

Noach grimaced, “I can understand your impatience. Believe me… Joeh was my home, as it was yours. And rest assured… Essenta is nothing like her father. Cast any thoughts of that out of your mind. Ansgar Dale was the one that murdered your wife and filly, not Essenta! I know how much it hurts but cast such thoughts aside.”

Drausus took on a melancholy expression, “I’m sorry, Noach… I… No… you do understand. A father’s sins are not his children’s, I know. I know very well… Now… what did you see in Zyra Argon’s memory?”

“It was the 'Fire Breathers' that destroyed Oswald. And they killed Nestor Argon. Zyra herself has known that since she was 8-years-old. And now we know; other than Zyra and her friends, we’re the only ponies, on Earth, to know that. Radulf himself was there. Zyra’s uncle, Tatius, attempted to betray his family in exchange for wealth and freedom. He meant Radulf to have the Fire Diamond… and Zyra as Radulf’s pawn.”

Drausus was fidgeting; there was one thing he really wanted to know, “And Radulf showed his face, did he?”

“He did. You never saw his face when he swept your town… it’s said he only ever unmasked himself when he planned to leave none alive. But Zyra and her uncle lived. Nopony expected that. And Zyra has the Fire Diamond within her chest. Her uncle didn’t make it through the transfer; the doctor that did it, old Aeolus, if you remember his worthless carcass, died soon after. The details aren’t all that important.”

“So, you saw Radulf’s true face…” Drausus considered. “Is it as we suspect?”

“It is, Drausus,” Noach’s nostrils flared. “That mild-mannered fruit peddler, ‘Lord Phokas’, is Radulf. We have him… We know where he is… And we can kill him.”

The Earth pony was close to tears, “After all this time… how long have you known? And does the princess’s company know?”

Noach couldn’t help but cry in his own relief, “The girls don’t know anything of who Radulf is… only of the ‘Fire Breathers’. I learned of it the first day Ama Waterfall and I were within the little mage’s mind. It took everything I had to maintain my silence. Nine weeks! For nine weeks, in the waking world and out of it, I held my tongue. But now there’s no more need for silence. We can proceed.”

Drausus nodded, a storm rising within him, “I will see justice upon King Ansgar Dale, one day… but Radulf will meet his end first… You… Noach… you were wronged by Radulf infinitely more than I was. Do you want his life for yourself? All you must do is say the word… and he and his backing are yours for the killing.”

With all his heart, Noach shook his head, “I got ahead of myself; I swore off killing years ago… after putting my own family to rest and helping the survivors. And I wouldn’t stand a chance against Radulf and his ‘Fire Breathers’. He’s yours. Do what you will with him and I will consider it justice done. Just don’t involve any innocents. Those orchard keepers have no idea what kind of monster watches over them, so please don’t destroy their land, either.”

Drausus contemplated, “Yes. I will see it done.”

“Yes… See it done.”

Noach’s old friend had another thing to say, “We can discuss further details, but tell me… what direction did Essenta Dale and her friends take?”

Noach blathered, “Tell you that? Do you really think I’d tell you where the princess and her friends are? You’re insane…”

“No, Noach. I’m sane. And I’ve been waiting a decade for this. Radulf will die. And he will suffer the same fate he brought upon so many ponies… Flame…”

The barkeep shook his head wonderingly, “It truly beggars the imagination you succeeded in that. The ‘Fire Breathers’ won’t have a chance once you unleash what you’ve become.”

Drausus allowed himself a very nasty sneer, “I’ll erase them. Still, before all that, I must meet the daughter of Ansgar Dale. I wish to know her and her friends. It’s important to me. And you know I mean her no harm!”

Noach believed him, “Very well. But they’d give even you trouble, as strong as you normally are. And I don’t say that lightly. They were able to kill three of the best assassins in the world… What a fucking nightmare that was… I’ll tell you what I know. Where should I start?”

“First, tell me… what kind of mare is Essenta?” Drausus relaxed.

Noach actually smiled, “There’s a whole Hell of a lot I could say about that. She lived in my pub for almost a week.”

Author's Note

Check out the Appendix for Princess Essenta, updated as the story moves along. It shows the story's timeline and character designs. Contains spoilers.

Having recovered their wounds and much of the heartache sustained in their journey and their lives, Essenta's little company moves south. Many more adventures await as they pass through the vicinity of the modern-day Ponyville area and the Everfree Forest as it's known today.

If you enjoy Princess Essenta, please take a look at Larkspur Blossom. A story of a colt finding his worth and making a better life for himself.

Also look for The Virgin Company. A tale of a military pony and his platoon in a war centuries ago.

Like, follow, or leave a comment if you please. It's been fun writing and I'm glad some enjoy it.

Thanks for reading, and take care.

Chapter 23: Cruel Words

Healing Arc

It wouldn’t suffice to say it started innocently, as a drunken Essenta had instigated a brawl in some backwater town pub. The little company had to split in the middle of the night when some little band of “outlaws” came hunting them, upset with Essenta for “rupturing (their) boss’s nutsack”. They could’ve clobbered these losers but decided to save themselves the notoriety and scram.

Suffice it to say, the girls were all disappointed with Essenta. They’d gone two weeks and 700 miles without incident, happily trotting along. Sure, they’d run into some weird stuff, even Timber-wolves, in the last patch of forest, but that didn’t ruin their pioneering spirit.

Their goal of the jungles in the south was sort of feasibly in sight; they were two-thirds of the way there. They’d reached the steppe and soon, all that would separate them from their objective, as far as just arriving in the jungle, was a small mountain range and a desert.

Essenta and company met some “rangers” who thought of themselves as badass outlaws. They’d invited the girls to drink and Essenta, upset about something, began to argue with their leader after a time. He then got a little fresh and paid the high price of admission, courtesy of a princess.

Dechaa, especially, tried to convince Essenta to not drink. She’d not touched a drop in a good month and was doing well without it. But she didn’t listen, thinking she could handle it, and stuff happened. Currently 50 miles away, they were confident they’d thrown their trail. They were in a new town, resting on the outskirts.

Half a day of running- literally half a day, having left before midnight- did their attitudes no favors; it was almost lunchtime. They’d planned to stay the night; they’d had feather beds and everything. Wilka and Orni had just gotten back much of their stamina and Zyra, not the fittest among them to begin with, had gotten sick on the run, having eaten a rather large meal before the trouble. Loress and Ama, unhappy with the turn of events, were fine otherwise… but Dechaa had reached her limit with her best friend’s shenanigans.

Given Essenta had been clean a month, maybe Dechaa should’ve dialed it down some, but it had been quite the screwup.

She thundered, “Sen, I am sick to suicide of your drinking! You’re a sloppy fucking mess! Every time you get into the stuff, it seems we need to peel you off somepony!”

Other than Essenta and Zyra, none of the girls had seen Dechaa so upset. She’d been a little crabby the last time she fixed Essenta’s teeth, but this was new territory. Taking Zyra’s cue, they stayed back a bit.

Essenta had cultivated a rotten disposition overnight; she’d been plastered and then forced to run 50 miles. What she had was something like a hangover, but it was so bad she didn’t have a name for it.

The princess withered under the tirade, “Stop yelling at me!”

Dechaa bristled at her, “NO! You listen!”

As the girls looked on, the screaming match continuing, Wilka and Orni tried to disappear into the background. Loress and Ama stood on either side of Zyra.

Loress, who’d whupped Essenta’s little horsey ass that time she made an ass of herself in Renata, was cowed as she considered this apparent cataclysm, “Zyra… is this normal?”

Zyra was unamused, but relatively unphased, “I haven’t seen them fight like this in about a year… If you thought Dechaa just sat back and took everything, even she has limits… She can actually have a real temper when Cap goes too far…”

Ama, in no hurry to intervene, didn’t enjoy seeing her friends rail against one another, “Should we… stop this?”

"I'm talking to you, you shit-magnet piss-flaps! Don't you walk away from me!" Dechaa's voice boomed.

"Lick my taint, you cunt-puddle! I'll fuck you up!" Essenta screeched back.

"Think you can manage it, you slobbering lush?!" the unicorn taunted.

"You come over here, I'LL KICK YOU IN THE TWAT!" the Earth pony roared.

The screaming bombarding their ears was almost painful to listen to, giving further halt. It would be a matter of seconds before one or both said something that might be hard to forgive.

Zyra shook her head, “No way.”

The resolve of their little mage was evident of what they should do; they too attempted to fade into the environment. The pissing contest continued, the princess and the healer totally unaware they had an audience anymore.

Essenta grimaced as she faced her friend; her head was killing her, “Well, if you’d try to have a good time and just go with the flow sometimes, you wouldn’t be such a dreary, little priss! Maybe you’d even find a stallion!”

The princess had hit below the belt; Dechaa had a crotch-shot of her own.

“Well… well, remember when Prince Dagda visited… how he ‘felt me up’ in the powder room? I let him do it, Princess! And only after I kissed him!” Dechaa spat.

The girls looked on in slack-jawed horror at the exchange. Things had devolved quickly. Essenta was too shocked to say a damn thing.

Dechaa wasn’t done, “And you know what? I liked it! I loved it! I gave him a hoofjob, Essenta! He even returned the favor… with his tongue!”

Well, thought the girls, Dechaa’s full of surprises, today! Zyra backed up a few paces, not even aware she was doing it.

Barely pausing, Dechaa went on, “And you know what he told me?! He said you looked like a colt with your mane all cropped like that- that he’d rather have a real mare!”

The hurt in Essenta’s eyes was no small hurt and Dechaa had spoken with more relish than anypony had ever heard from her. This was getting heavy.

Essenta practically bawled, “You knew he was just about the only guy I ever liked! Now you say you lied to me about all that?! How could you?!”

“Well, I liked him too! And you would barely talk to him!”

“Because I liked him! I was scared…”

Dechaa barked at her, “Oh, sure… the ‘warrior princess’ scared of a colt!”

“You knew I liked him!” Essenta was tearing up. “I had a plan…”

“You’ve never planned a thing in your life!” Dechaa bellowed. “This whole stupid adventure was spurred on by a mug of ale and you hating your father! You just picked up and ran off!”

Essenta’s tears were now running down her cheeks, “You didn’t need to come along…! I didn’t force you and you know it… I didn’t know what else to do to get away from Father…”

Dechaa was so worked up, she didn’t give a lot of thought to what she said next, “Maybe if you’d spent a little less time rolling in your own filth and more time trying to be more like your mother, your father wouldn’t see you as such a disappointment!”

Immediately, Dechaa regretted those words; it was about the worst thing she could say to her best friend. Essenta shrank at that, eyes welling up fresh; her lip quivered, and she backed up.

“Oh… Sen, I-”

Essenta broke like a cheap toy and bolted away, blubbering towards the town.

Dechaa stood rooted, at a loss, staring after her, “Sen…”

The five other girls had retreated towards the wagon over the last minute, but they’d heard the punchline. And they felt awful about it.

Zyra slowly approached Dechaa and put a tentative hoof on her shoulder; there was nothing to be said. Normally, after a nut-buster like that, she’d give a stunned whistle… but she managed not to do so. Dechaa couldn’t even cry, she felt so drained. That sucked.

Still back a way, Ama ducked down to meet Loress, Wilka, and Orni at head level, “Uh, girls? What is a hoofjob?”

There weren’t that many ponies in the little pub Essenta found; it was only the afternoon during harvest, after all. That far south, they’d be harvesting for a while yet. They’d left four-season climates behind them a couple hundred miles back.

Dressed in a rather unflattering travel cloak and looking as if she’d run 50 miles, there was no recognizing her as anything more than some bizarre traveler from “Bumfuck, Anywhere”…

She’d intended to have a couple drinks, to “even out” her condition, but her poor self-control with num-nums led to her getting good and drunk again. The ale was good enough and cheap. She had silver and the pub had ale. She was set. Naturally, the alcohol did little good for her profoundly hurt feelings. It was an afternoon she was destined to not remember and forgetting it wouldn’t be the worst thing for her.

Anypony crossing her would be in for a bad time. Notwithstanding, a young mare, alone and drunk in the daytime on a Tuesday, garnered some attention.

An amazingly smashed old Pegasus stallion approached her. She recognized him for some reason, somewhere in the hazy confines of her memory. He breathed down her neck; he stunk like warm death mixing up a bucket of shit-blood.

“Hey, there, young Miss… What do you charge for a half-and-half?”

A few ponies trotting down the street were treated to seeing some old-timer go spiraling out the pub’s door, bouncing across the street, with fresh bruises concealing most of his features.

Barely missing a beat, Essenta went back to her ale. She tried hard not to think of Dechaa’s words, but there was no escaping them.

To her side, she heard a chuckle, “Ah, Miss… did you really have to lay into the old fool that badly?”

Essenta was in no mood for much of anything; she rounded on the voice and found… the single most handsome stallion- bar none- she’d ever seen in her near 18 years of being alive. He couldn’t have been more than 20.

Not at all the type of mare, with or without alcohol, to just fall for somepony at first sight- she’d known Prince Fulco a day before she had an inkling she liked him- this stallion had undeniable appeal. She almost felt sucked into him.

She came close, but no dice.

There was something else there too… it was… danger. And not the normal kind… it was the kind where every part of the body screamed run. He radiated menace. She recognized it, but she blew it off like a thick head of foam on a mug of ale.

“What do you want?” she took a hit of her ale.

The stallion laughed buoyantly, “I’d like to sit.”

Not even looking up, she mumbled, “Whatever.”

He sat, “Barkeep! I’ll have what she’s having!”

An ale was slid to him, “You a traveler, young Miss?”

Essenta glowered inwardly, “Yes.”

“Alone?”

“I am now…”

“The name’s Dru,” he hummed. “May I ask yours?”

No, you may not, fuck-stick.

“Sen…” she exhaled. “Just call me ‘Sen’.”

She took a good look at him: he was… a knight?

Looking again, she could see he was… and he was of a place she never thought she’d see anypony from again. She’d seen them represented when Joeh surrendered to the Confederation.

“You’re from Albin…” she didn’t even bother to stop herself. “A knight of Albin…”

He didn’t seem at all surprised, “You know your stuff, Sen. You’re quite right.”

“Aren’t you about 2,000 miles west of where you’re supposed to be?”

He chuckled, “I could’ve guessed from your accent, but now I know you’re a Valley mare… or thereabouts.”

She still gave a little caution, “Thereabouts.”

“You’re quite a way away from home yourself, Sen.”

She turned to him, “Don’t think I can’t recognize your accent. You’re from Joeh… not Albin… who are you?”

He still seemed unsurprised, “You’re quite sharp. I’m from Joeh. I… escaped with my family and fled east when the Confederation attacked western Joeh.”

It became obvious to Essenta after hearing a few lines out of him. The emperor of Albin was the one that compelled Joeh, under his influence, to invade the Dale… for more farmland, so the accounting went. It made sense his family would flee to Albin. A decade before, they’d be enemies, but the war was long over.

Essenta grew tired of his chatter but felt compelled to speak; it was about Joeh… and it kept her from thinking about her pissing contest with Dechaa, “I’m glad you got out of there in time. I’ve learned more about Joeh than I wish I knew. My father… fought in the war… on the Valley side. Did your father fight?”

He shook his head, a little sadly, “No, Sen… I fought myself.”

Quickly losing the somber feeling brought up thinking about her father’s actions in Joeh, her attention had jumped; this, she didn’t believe, “Horseshit… you would’ve been my age… and my age then, when I was a little filly. And even in the end, they never used colts for soldiers. You don’t look much older than me, I think.”

“I tell you the truth, Sen. I was a grown stallion with a wife and a little filly who’s not so little anymore… she’s your age.”

Essenta shook her head, “I don’t believe you, Dru.”

“Don’t let my appearance fool you. I sold my soul for power and youth.”

She did a take, looking at his innocent expression; she cracked up.

She laughed long and hard, forgetting her worries for a time, “Oh, that’s funny, Dru. A real pisser!”

He gave a little, knowing smile, letting her have her fun. The princess began sucking down mugs of ale with abandon and the two shot the breeze; for some time, they bullshitted the other, Essenta becoming more and more smashed.

Essenta, now well into gonzo territory, continued chatting him up, “So, wow… How’d you get knighted so young? And a foreigner, at that…”

Dru grinned, “I was surprised too… but Albin’s a meritocracy, more than other places. Noble blood only takes you so far, and I have no such thing. I became a soldier under the emperor, as there was nothing else I knew how to do, and I impressed my commander. He brought me before the Emperor and he eventually knighted me. I’m on my first peregrination, which is why I’m so far from where I’m ‘supposed to be’.”

Essenta waved a hoof drunkenly, “I didn’t mean anything by that. The war never spread this far south and it’s long past. To everypony here, you’re just another traveler.”

He took on a melancholy face, “War’s never over for those that lived through it… Even though you were just a foal, it stays with you… especially when you see your family in harm’s way.”

That rubbed Essenta… she thought of her father, King Dale, setting western Joeh aflame… and she felt sick inside. She was never in any real danger… neither was most of the Dale. And Joeh had suffered hurts unimaginable. The princess grew somber, hunching over.

Dru patted Essenta’s shoulder; she swore she could almost feel the “menace” every time his hoof landed, “I’m sorry, Miss. I don’t mean to upset. War’s misery for everypony…”

Essenta, unable to hold back, still had the sense to not reveal too much, “My father… isn’t a good stallion. He thought nothing of what he did in the war. I’ve learned a lot about it all in the last couple months… and I wish I never did.”

Dru took a moment before responding, “You must always remember, Sen, that a father’s sins are not those of his children.”

There was no need for Essenta to mull this, “I know… but that doesn’t make it any easier to accept.”

He stared at the bartop, “I’m sure. I’m… intruding, I know, but I can’t stand to see a young pony so upset… and alone. Where are your friends?”

Essenta sighed, “Nearby. I ran off. I did something really stupid… My friend… my best friend… finally called me out on all the dumb things I’ve been up to since we began traveling. We… said some things… nasty things… to each other. Then she said something that I know… something that’s true… a thing I’ve known since I was a little filly. But it’s never easy to hear it; it’s bad enough it’s always on my mind… My father thinks I’m nothing but a disappointment… He hates me. And… I hate him too.”

Dru took on an expression of pity, “If that’s indeed true, it must be very painful.”

She was letting her guard down some; her eyes began streaming as she choked it out, “He’s always hated me. He hates me for being born a girl… for not being what he wants me to be. Mother… she’s not much better. Once… when I was a little filly… she got very drunk with a friend of hers. I don’t even remember what I did to make her so angry, but she looked at me… she said, ‘If I hadn’t seen you come out of me… I’d refuse to believe you were mine’ and it hurt to hear that. They both love my brothers… and at least appreciate my sister, but not me.”

The stallion sighed, “Miss, I’m sure your parents don’t hate you.”

Essenta’s resolve was strong, “I know they do. Mother’s so cold to me… she’s… barely spoken to me in the last five years. And Father… he just proved it. My life… and the lives of my friends… don’t mean a thing to him…”

“That’s certainly a thing to say,” Dru pondered.

Essenta cried, “He tried to kill them, Dru! My friends! And… I don’t know what it was about me… I dunno. It was a nightmare!”

She again drained a mug of ale; she’d done this more than a few times since Dru sat down. Dru could tell Essenta was completely blasted; she’d have no memory of this… perhaps even of meeting him. She began nodding off, finally.

“I wish I could say something… anything, Princess… to assuage your hurt feelings. I admit I’m at a loss. But it matters not, in the end of it all.

“Your father, Princess Essenta, is a monster. I’d put him on the same level as Aodh Radulf and his ‘Fire Breathers’. I’ve waited an entire decade to kill all of them… Your father, Radulf, and Radulf’s fucking guild… I’ve waited for so very long to watch them die.

“For your sake… and the sake of the Dale… I will let that waste of life you call a father live. You may hate him, and he may hate you… he’s a monster… but I will not overturn the Dale for my sake… or anypony else’s. I will never forgive what he did to my wife and little filly, but he won’t die by my hoof. But Radulf and his… I will erase them in flame… as is his wont. Radulf will pay for all his crimes: razing western Joeh… the things he did in Oswald, tearing away Zyra Argon’s happiness… and deceiving an innocent corner of the world, lording over their orchards.”

Essenta was on the verge of passing out; she looked most fearful, “Who are you…?”

With that, she slumped onto the bar and began to snore lightly.

Sir Drausus stood up, squared the bar tab, and tossed Essenta over his back. He set off in the late afternoon sun to find the princess’s friends. His old friend Noach had told him plenty about all of them; locating them would not be difficult.

Author's Note

Check out the Appendix for Princess Essenta, updated as the story moves along. It shows the story's timeline and character designs. Contains spoilers.

I decided to pull Princess off hiatus, but it won't see a weekly or regular release until the autumn. I will release them as they are partially rewritten and edited. I may try to split up some longer chapters, but will decide later. In writing, I never really have a goal in how long a chapter is; I just write enough to satisfy my own objectives for the events in each chapter. Some chapters say enough with 2K words and one in another story topped 12K words.

The company is in for an interesting time, on the heels of a nasty pissing contest between two best friends.

With the mysterious knight, Sir Drausus, carrying a sozzled princess around on his back, looking for the dynamic and dangerous mares Essenta has befriended, what will happen next?

If you enjoy Princess Essenta, please take a look at Larkspur Blossom. A story of a colt finding his worth and making a better life for himself.

Also look for The Virgin Company. A tale of a military pony and his platoon in a war centuries ago.

Like, follow, or leave a comment if you please. It's been fun writing and I'm glad some enjoy it.

Thanks for reading, and take care.

Chapter 24: The Demon

Healing Arc

It was approaching sundown and the girls were still hunkered down near the edge of town. They’d elected to camp out in a grove of trees rather than go into town for beds. None of them were crazy about it, but they still hoped to not draw so much attention in case a certain gang of stallions with a "freshly-neutered" leader was skulking about, looking for them.

Also, they chose to remain because it was near where they were when Essenta ran off around lunchtime; drunk or sober, it would be the first place the princess would go when she decided or was otherwise compelled to rejoin them.

“I still do not see why we ran so far. It would have been an easy thing to very nearly beat the life from them and leave them in a pile somewhere…” Ama good-naturedly jibed Loress as they ate stew; they’d made a fire, because they weren’t that desperate to stay hidden.

Loress chuckled at Ama’s half-joke and retorted with her own, “Yes, but it still would’ve maybe caused us trouble. What if one of those rats escaped… told his friends? We’d have an army of rodents to deal with.”

The two laughed nastily at the idea; Ama had developed a rather “un-Mazan-like” sense of humor, considering humor wasn’t a conspicuous part of their culture, spending time with her new friends.

The girls had begun to jest about all the crazy possibilities they could conjure up, given their last 24 hours. They knew running, given the circumstances, had been the best decision. It was fun, bullshitting around, and they got to exercise facets of humor they weren’t necessarily accustomed to trying out. It also raised them from their funk, having been upset about their flight.

Even Orni, shy as was her wont, joined in, “Do you think the boss ‘ranger’ will keep his balls, or throw them out?”

Ama sprayed their campfire with a mouthful of stew, as she guffawed; the others laughed riotously, both at Orni’s sick inquiry and Ama’s reaction to it.

Wilka blanched, “Gross, Orni!”

But Orni stumbled through a defense of her statement, “No, no! See… he could put them in a jar of corn juice and put them on his shelf or something. And someday, he won’t be telling any of his grandfoals about it, ‘In my day… we saved things’.”

They all fell about the place and the little patch of forest shook with raucous female laughter.

Zyra pounded the little Knollwing’s back, practically sobbing, “Maybe he’ll wrap them up in blue paper and give them a proper burial…”

They’d been doing this the whole afternoon and early evening, with no end in sight. They hadn’t had laughs like that in some time.

Well, one of them was reliably having a lousy time: Dechaa was sitting sourly near the entrance to their campsite, supremely upset with the day.

Zyra called over to her, once she had a semblance of control again, “Dechaa, you’re gonna worry yourself into looking like Cap’s Old Rosy! A couple of us will run back into town and look for her again after dinner. Quit fretting and have some stew!”

Throughout the day, they’d been “casually” hanging around the town, one or two at a time, looking for Essenta. They were reasonably sure they’d checked all the pubs but might have missed one.

Given nopony (princess or otherwise) had turned up dead or (princess exclusively) in the town jail, they figured Essenta was probably fine and would turn up one way or another. They were concerned, sure, but knew that girls fought sometimes… It had been a nasty fight… and some nasty things had been said, but it wasn’t the end of the world. It wasn’t even the worst exchange the two had, according to Zyra. Nopony was overly curious what could top the catastrophe they’d seen.

Dechaa had been sulking all day, regretting her cruel but not inaccurate words to her best friend. She knew “things would be alright” but wasn’t looking forward to hashing things out with Essenta. The healer retreated to a corner of the site where she curled up under her blanket.

Allowing Dechaa to huff, the others polished off the chow and cleaned up. Zyra and Ama volunteered to go into town for a while and search; whether they found her or not, they’d also pick up a fresh pie. The town bakery was upwind of them and they’d been smelling baked goods since noon.

But the little mage and the exceptionally tall warrior halted at the opening of their campsite; they had a visitor… and a returner.

The rest of the girls noticed as well. No older than 20-years, there stood the most handsome stallion any of them had seen… and he had the princess over his back.

One of them might have demanded the stallion carrying Essenta identify himself, or why he had their friend, but they were initially daunted by the sense of malice to which the princess had said “meh”.

Zyra and Ama backed up slowly away from him; they were compelled to do so. Every fiber of their beings told them to run, but they were too shaken to do that. Wilka and Orni quaked where they stood. Dechaa ventured closer, but not too close. Their fur stood on end and they felt a muddled electricity move through their bodies.

The only one among them to keep a semblance of her wits was Loress.

She didn’t take kindly to somepony in the garb of Albin, especially a knight. While the Dale and the Valley had been at “peace” with Joeh and Albin for a decade, Terrow rested on the very border of Albin. While war was a far-off memory to some, border skirmishes had caused decades of misery for the Terrans.

That and the fact he had the princess were reason enough for her to disregard the menace, “Get your hooves off her!”

As quickly as they’d ever seen their friend move, Loress tore towards their visitor, pulling back a hoof for a blow of near-decapatory force; it was so fast, she may as well have teleported.

The stallion stood his ground, “There’ll be none of that, young Terran.”

He stopped her hoof with his own, as if it was nothing. Loress saw her life flash before her eyes, but she didn’t wind up dying. He flung her across the campsite with the ease of tossing an apple to a friend.

Seeing Loress bounce along as if it had been one of them, the girls just about crapped themselves. And they might have, if the stallion didn’t calmly address them.

“I’ve no wish to fight anypony. Don’t try that again…”

His manner only did a little to keep their bowels in check, but the mares realized they might not die.

Loress, never at more of a loss in her life, hunkered down where she’d settled; she couldn’t move. The rest were terrified and did a poor job of concealing it.

Orni, already feeling a little weak in the knees, collapsed in his presence. She was faring only slightly worse than the rest, Wilka clamoring to her side.

The stallion took note of this; he couldn’t help but chuckle, “That’s the kind of reaction I’m used to seeing. You mares are quite perceptive.”

Saying the girls were wary, facing this fellow, was a gross understatement.

“The Terran could feel it and she still came in for a poke. You’re either very brave, my dear, or very reckless. You all should’ve seen this one on my back; she all but told me to go fuck myself when I met her!”

He laughed cheerfully at the recent memory. It was hard to say if it caused any fresh terror or not among the company; they were beyond being able to tell.

“Oh, yes… perhaps she’s the type to only fear the things she sees. I apologize for frightening you… I ran into your friend at a little tavern in town; we had some drinks and I couldn’t just leave her alone. I mean you no ill; I just wanted to get her back to you safe and sound.”

Dechaa, of all ponies, took a leap of faith. She could sense whatever the Hell was within him better than any of them, but she could tell he meant no harm. She approached him.

In turn, he could see her kindness and gentleness; she glowed with the stuff.

“You, my dear, must be the one Sen had that argument with.”

Dechaa and the rest of the girls just about died hearing that.

“You… know who we are? She… told you?” Dechaa began to inch away; the fear in her eyes was obvious.

Taking on an apologetic face, he waved a hoof, “Oh, no, it’s not what you think. It was a lucky guess, on my part. She didn’t say anything about any of you, other than you were her friends. I’ve never seen you before in my life… Still, consider me a friend.”

Hefting the princess off his back, he motioned Dechaa over.

Zyra scampered up, scared shitless to be that close, but helped shoulder Essenta.

The stallion smirked, “Don’t be afraid, girls. You have such beautiful souls… all of you do. I'm sure Sen's already forgiven you for whatever happened, so do the same for her. It's not worth the heartache."

He strolled past the three Dale mares, over to Loress.

Looking up at him, it was possible she’d never been so scared in her life.

He offered a hoof to the quaking Terran, “I’m very sorry for being so rough with you… but if your blow had connected, even I wouldn’t have walked away unscathed.”

She, about as sure as a mouse in a rattlesnake nest, accepted his hoof and she was deftly hauled to her hooves.

Taking on a rather… charming mien, he grinned, looking at her head to hoof, “Oh, wow… You are ravishing, young Miss.”

Loress, unable to help herself, melted right there; she was more than a little swept away and almost dropped again.

Dechaa and Zyra had retreated to the center of camp, beside Wilka and Orni, both still too freaked out to move.

Ama seemed the only one able to speak; she felt a tingle in her spine just looking at the guy, “Thank you, Sir Knight… for bringing our dear friend back to us. Might we… know your name, Sir?”

He shook his head, “No… it’s best you forget you ever saw me. It’s in your best interest, actually. I’m just a knight on a journey. Let’s leave it at that. Your friend has already forgotten me, I think; you should’ve seen her down that ale, but I’m sure you’re all familiar with her rhythms.”

That was good enough for them… but forgetting this would take a lot of liver abuse.

Looking over the six conscious mares once more, “Sen is most fortunate to have friends like you. Take care of her; she’s pretty special… Maybe try a little harder to keep her away from the bottle; it does her no good. I wish you all good fortune as you travel on.”

Without another word, he disappeared into the gathering dusk, leaving the girls with their thoughts about what just happened.

Wilka shuddered as they sat around their campfire, trying to keep from shouting, “What the fuck was that about?!”

She wasn’t the only one thinking such things… save Essenta, happily snoring in a corner of their camp, it was on all their minds.

Orni was still jittery, “I’ve… never felt that before… that… danger. I couldn’t move!”

Ama nodded silently, clutching a cup of hot tea in her nerveless hooves, trying not to spill on herself. Dechaa and Zyra were in slightly better shape, but not by much; the unicorns had still felt it more strongly than the others.

Zyra stared into the flames, “Really… does anypony have any idea what just happened?”

She, and nopony else had been expecting an answer, but they got one.

Loress was looking off into space, “I do.”

Ama eyed her, "That strength... is he a Terran?"

Looking to Loress expectantly, the five mares gave her a moment.

Loress sighed, “He… isn't a Terran. He's a normal Earth pony… at least he once was. That knight… possessed demon energy… the most powerful I’ve seen.”

Ama was skeptical, “Demon energy? How would you know of such a thing?”

Loress looked her way, “Like you, I traveled around quite a bit. I’ve seen such things… more than I’d liked to have. That stallion has taken into himself dark forces.”

Wilka looked over, terror in her eyes, “What kind of dark forces?”

Loress shook her head, “I don’t know… I’ve seen many things. He may have... supernatural powers beyond ‘normal’ unicorn magic… or he may have a demon form. I once saw a mare… an Earth pony that could transform into a raven. It’s possible; such things exist in the world. All it takes is the will to find it… and the resolve to let it inside. And whatever he is… it made any Knollwing or Terran I’ve met look like a bunny rabbit.”

The girls sat a moment, letting the silence of the night have a moment; all they heard were the autumn insects, an owl somewhere, and the crackling of the fire.

Loress breathed, “You all felt it… His being screamed. It said, ‘keep away… run’. Every fiber of my being wanted to obey. And the princess? She just sat and got drunk with him… if a demon can get drunk.”

They all glanced towards their beloved princess and leader. What kind of mare were they following? Some kind of goddess among ponies… or just a fool?

Author's Note

Check out the Appendix for Princess Essenta, updated as the story moves along. It shows the story's timeline and character designs. Contains spoilers.

Too hot to go planting, so I did some editing today for a chapter.

A questionable encounter with Sir Drausus has left the company with their beloved commander, safe and sound, but with likely hangover in the very near future... and a lot of questions about some very scary stuff.

As they prepare to cross the southern mountains and into the desert, what other crazy stuff will Essenta and her friends turn up?

If you enjoy Princess Essenta, please take a look at Larkspur Blossom. A story of a colt finding his worth and making a better life for himself.

Also look for The Virgin Company. A tale of a military pony and his platoon in a war centuries ago.

Like, follow, or leave a comment if you please. It's been fun writing and I'm glad some enjoy it.

Thanks for reading, and take care.

Chapter 25: The "City of Last Chances"

"Last Chance" Stopover Arc

Essenta remembered nothing of meeting the knight from Albin… not his name, not his face, nothing at all; she’d already entered blackout territory around when she’d been thrashing the old “half-and-half” Pegasus they’d encountered before.

The girls had debated about telling Essenta of the menace they felt, or that he tossed Loress like she was a piece of fruit. They settled on saying he was a handsome, young knight from Albin she met while drinking… he was a gentlecolt and wished her to be safe with her friends… and to take it easier on the bottle. It was no falsehood and simplified things.

Essenta was tickled some knight that would’ve been her enemy a decade back was kind enough to watch out for her; she was even willing to stay away from booze for a while, to repay providence for seeing her through her stupid endeavor. The girls wondered how long she’d keep away this time.

Dechaa apologized to Essenta… and Essenta did the same. It was a small to-do for them; it took more than a few nasty, if truthful, words to tear them apart. Satisfied with this, the girls tried to forget about Dechaa pleasuring some prince behind a curtain and the other mischief that occurred. Essenta reasoned he was an ass anyway, in the end.

With all that and many other strange and troublesome things behind them, the company paddled along. They were about to enter the southern mountains, the steppe beginning to rise in front of them.

Essenta was in the middle of the line they’d formed; it was her turn to pull the wagon for a while.

The princess yawned, “I’m bored… anypony have a song or something?”

The others muttered descent, other than their little, pink Pegasus.

“How about a game? I spy with my little eye… something brown,” Wilka giggled.

The other girls groaned; Wilka had “tried” to start the game up a few times and it was getting old, though it never ceased being funny to the little Pegasus. Everything was brown. Everything was brown. The soil, the plants, the rocks… everything was brown. About all else there was to look at was the mountains ahead of them and the rump in front of each of them.

Zyra, too lethargic to even joke about Loress’s “pretty white ass”, missed the green they’d walked through in the weeks past. Late autumn was approaching, though. Many of the places they’d been through would have seen some snow by then… the Dale would be buried in the stuff soon and had likely had a snowfall.

The steppe, not exciting to begin with, dried up in the later months of the year, giving it a brown appearance further yet. As far south as they were, it ceased to get cold at night, but some cold places waited between them and the jungles… the desert was chilly at night, they’d heard.

Listening to Zyra’s grumbling, Ama giggled, “Do not fret, Zyra. Soon, everything will be green and gray in the mountains… and then sandy-colored, as sand is all there is in the desert.”

The company tried not to give Ama a hard time about her occasional jokes that floundered; her humor was much better than it was at first, but she was still learning.

Zyra gave a little chuckle, “I am looking forward to seeing the jungle. All the flora and fauna you can imagine… Dechaa! It should be an apothecary’s dream, visiting such a place.”

Dechaa was less excited about their destination. She was a mare that didn’t very much enjoy heat, humidity, bugs, danger, wild animals never seen by the eyes of a northerner… then there was the sickness and disease that came with the tropics. Ama tried to assuage her thinking.

“Oh, Dechaa… I grew up in such a place. I am sure our shared knowledge can keep us from some of the danger. I would not believe it is all that different from my home.”

Loress, taking point, turned her gaze back, “Oh, you’d be surprised, Ama… There’s a fair-sized sea that separates Mazan from the continent. Could be differences like night and day. We’ll find out soon enough.”

It was only the early afternoon and the company had just about run out of interesting things to chat about; unless somepony had an idea, it would be another boring day and night on the steppe. They could see the mountains and the topography had changed but they were still more than a day away.

Something struck Orni, “Ama… I guess we’ve never talked about it, but what kind of stallion are you even looking for? Once everything else is over with…”

The Mazan stopped, Zyra bumping into her rear; she looked bemused, “Hmm… I cannot say I am sure. I never gave it much thought… I only came to the continent because I came of age. After seeing this interesting land, I did not think of much else other than seeing it.”

It was a thoughtful answer; the little Knollwing hung her head, “I’m sorry for intruding… I suppose it’s nopony’s business.”

Ama simpered, “There is no reason to apologize… This could be fun to discuss…”

The tall mare began moving again, smiling a bit as she thought to herself; the others resumed walking, taking great interest in what Ama might say.

“I can say this… many of my clan speak of nothing but skill… some are wiser than that, but skill and strength are the aspects most mares seem to desire. My father, of course, was a Terran… and an exceptionally powerful fellow at that! My mother saw something else in him, though; she once told me he was so very foolish… But he made her laugh… and he was so very, very kind, in his way.”

The girls were enjoying this; it wasn’t often they got to hear Ama muse about much of anything.

Ama grinned a little at the idea of her father, “Kindness… That was a pleasant thing to hear. It is most unusual for a Mazan to meet her father, but I would not turn away the chance. It would be nice. It might amuse him to see the sort of daughter he sired.”

This got a laugh out of the others; that would be interesting to see.

“Myself though… We have encountered many ponies in our travels… some virtuous and some less so. What I have further realized is strength, power, and other base qualities only take a pony so far. It matters not what race he might be; we are all born Earth ponies, whether our fathers are unicorns, Knollwings, or anything else.

“Truly… I am unsure of the kind of stallion I desire… But I have just realized this: I would like very much to meet my father, someday. I suppose I would like a stallion… my own daughter would like to meet someday, if she so chooses.”

That was some answer; it had Orni putting on the dreamy eyes, “Oh, wow… that’s such a lovely thought. That would be nice.”

There was a murmur of ascent.

Ama called to the little Knollwing, “What about you, Orni?”

The little fireplug-looking pony blanched, “What?”

Ama gave an uncharacteristically fiendish smile, “What sort of stallion do you want?”

Orni blushed and the other girls giggled at her trepidation, though not unkindly.

“Well,” Orni said demurely. “I’d like somepony who’s kind… that loves foals as much as I do… and loves animals!”

Wilka had moved up alongside her and nudged her with a leer, “You mean like Uther, back in Renata?”

Five pairs of ears perked up.

Orni blushed more deeply, smiling despite herself, “Yes, Wilka… like Uther…”

“Uther… did we meet him?” Dechaa asked the general group.

Wilka shook her head, “Maybe… He’s been sweet on Orni for a few years, I hear.”

Orni pushed her best friend good-naturedly, unable to wipe the goofy look off her face, “Oh, stop it, Wilka…”

The girls were eager to hear more but doubted Orni’s willingness to participate.

Zyra pondered, “Who wants to hear from Loress?”

The Terran mare squeaked, eliciting mirth from the rest.

Their boring afternoon had become rather fun.

“There it is girls,” Dechaa consulted a map, unfolded on the wagon. “The ‘City of Last Chances’. They call it ‘Last Chance’ City… That’s… kinda stupid.”

The trip over the mountains had been easy enough; there were some very well-maintained paths through. The height hadn’t even been an issue and the forest below the snowline had been welcome change after days and days of scorched prairie.

At the foot of the mountains, on the south side, the desert lay before them. Sand, sand, sand as far as the eye could see. But at the very base of the mountains was a city whose real name nopony cared to bother with. Until they saw it with their own eyes, the well-beaten paths and routes through the mountains made little sense.

“Last Chance” City was a refuge. It was the last established settlement between the mountains and the jungle; away from the rest of the world, answering to nopony else, it was the southernmost independent city-state on the continent. Its reputation was more than dubious… this was where less than savory ponies holed up to enjoy the spoils of an ill-lived life.

The wealthy residents lived by the adage to “not shit where they eat and sleep”, keeping business away from the city. The girls had encountered nopony in the mountains, but the city was a pilgrimaging destination for many ponies looking for a wild time and rich living. Plenty of ponies aired their dirty laundry, but they had far less to lose than the ones whose wealth rivaled kingdoms.

Essenta thought it sounded like fun, but it was no place to stay long, “Okay, girls. We go in, find a safe enough place, rest up, get what we need to cross the desert, and we leave.”

The other girls though, Yeah, right… They had little faith Essenta would be able to avoid whatever ales the city produced.

Approaching the city in the early morning, Loress led the way, “I hear this place is quite a sight at night… Bright lights, good times… Don’t think we’re not having a little fun while we’re here.”

Zyra mused, “We’ve been on the road for so long… Why don’t we just stay here? I mean… I don’t even remember why we're this far south.”

Ama spoke up, “We are on our way to Salvatrix, of course… The Dragon Lance awaits us at the temple! Though our journey is not quite legitimate… But, oh, the tales I have heard of the place! The danger-”

Loress kneaded Ama’s shoulder with a shit-eating grin, “She’s joking, Ama. I doubt anypony’s forgotten the purpose of our trip.”

“A joke?” Ama considered; she allowed herself a little smile. “It needs work.”

Everypony cracked up, save Essenta; she knew of the temptations the city held and wouldn’t enjoy having to be the foalsitter, for a change, if the rest decided to cut loose. Regardless, she was glad to know Ama and Loress would be there, clear-headed along with her.

The princess spoke to the group, “Like I said… we find a place to stay, get supplies, and leave. I don’t want to spend more than a couple days here.”

Essenta slumped on a barstool in the corner of some pub they’d found. She was dismayed to see her friends having such a good time; it wasn’t that she hated them for it, but she was the kind of mare that couldn’t have fun without drinking… when everypony else was.

She’d never seen Dechaa so sloshed, happily chattering with the three youngest members of the party, all stumbling around in the same territory. Loress was drinking her favored cider along with some old-timers and Ama was rubbing elbows with the pair of brothers that ran the place. Ama was enjoying herself a great deal despite her untested manner. They had her trying a few of their concoctions, eager for a foreigner’s opinion.

Sucking down a mug of ale, though taking her time with it, she let out a little burp, “Pardon me… This ale is delicious; it has a wonderful pungency and… just a hint of… ooh, tangerine. Most interesting. I like this quite a bit… The stout had a nice character, but the darker brews just do not quite agree with me.”

“Wow, young miss… You can drink,” one of them was awed by her capacity.

She said matter-of-factly, “My father was a Terran… In addition to height and a fair bit of strength, I inherited some of their ability to process alcohol and other poisons. Alcohol is a poison- not that I mean ill against any of your wares. It simply is, as the sky is blue.”

“It’s alright; we understand. We appreciate your kind words. We’re pretty proud of the new ale,” the other brother smiled.

“As you should be, sir. There is… one suggestion I would make, if I am permitted.”

Both brothers encouraged her; one said, “By all means, please do. You have a good palate for drink.”

She shyly suggested, “Do not be afraid to increase the bitterness a small degree; it would better complement the other characteristics… but instead of more hops… consider using more tangerine peel.”

Both weren’t put off by the idea at all.

“I know you’re partial to our beers, but would you consider trying something new?” one of the brothers ducked behind the bar.

Coming back with a cask of what looked to be ordinary apple cider, he set it on the bar.

Ama cocked her head, “Cider?”

“Not quite. It’s called ‘apple pie’, for its taste. It’s concentrated apple juice, sugar, brown sugar, cinnamon, a spritz of nutmeg… and corn juice. Please try; we have plenty.”

Taking a nip, Ama’s face lit up, “This is outstanding! It has just enough cinnamon…”

Before the cask could be retrieved, Ama put it to her lips and sucked it down. The brothers watched in horror as she drained the cask to the last drop.

Unaware at first of their dismay, Ama beamed at them, “Its sweetness blocks out most alcohol flavor… but it does burn a small amount… Oh, what is it? Are you two unwell?”

“Uh… the sweetness is supposed to block out the alcohol taste…”

Ama was confused, “Then what is wrong? This ‘apple pie’, as you call it, is exquisite!”

“Because… corn juice is just grain alcohol. That cask was around 85% alcohol. You just drank enough to kill 10 stallions…”

Nonplussed, Ama pondered, “Oh… What will happen?”

Essenta was bored; she had cultivated a sour mood and refused to have any fun. The only reason she stuck around was because Ama and Loress didn’t deserve to be left alone… in fact, the princess probably owed them for some things in the past.

Just about nodding off, despite the noise in the pub, Essenta was jostled back to the world by Loress.

“Yeah?” the princess grumbled.

“Uh, Princess… we got trouble…” she looked uncertain.

They certainly did have a problem; Ama was drunk. This was uncharted territory for everypony.

“Thanks for all the good stuff, fellows… It’s been most pleasant chatting with you two but I’ve to take a piss!” the Mazan maiden was trying to wrest herself from the barstool, simpering across to the two brothers; the brothers looked aghast, knowing almost any other pony on Earth would already be dead.

Essenta didn’t know whether to laugh or cry at this; she’d never even imaginged Ama could become tanked. Loress was less amused, having a bad feeling about all of it.

Ama had loosened herself and was staggering towards the door; the outhouses were outside, after all.

Spotting her friends, Ama grinned, “Hey, girls! I kinda like this but I kinda don’t. Everything’s all spinny-spinny… And I’m really full. Gotta pee.”

Essenta settled on laughing, “Ama! I’ve never heard you speak with contractions.”

Loress was stunned that’s all the princess could say at Ama’s first time drunk.

“I guess I am… I can’t stop slurring either…” she slurred. “Now… I gotta go…”

Turning around abruptly, Ama wiped out a table.

“Hey, bitch! Watch what you’re fuckin’ doin’!” a Pegasus stallion hollered at her; noticing she was much larger and fearsome-looking, he shrank.

Essenta and Loress got scared a moment; knowing nothing about Ama being intoxicated, she might have disemboweled somepony as easily as walking away when accosted.

She did neither.

“Oh, I’m so sorry, sir! I’m… unused to inebriation. Please… lemme buy you and your friends more. It’s the least I can do…”

Taken aback at her genuine conscientiousness, the stallion looked guilty, “Oh… it’s okay, miss. I’m sorry I said that to you.”

“Please, don’t apologize… I’m sure I startled you… I do want to buy you something, though…” Ama marshaled a smile for them.

Essenta and Loress breathed a sigh of relief. That could’ve been bad. Ama did indeed buy them fresh drinks and they began to chat, once Ama had relieved herself.

“Well… that’s good to know, I suppose,” Loress smirked as she and the princess sat down at the bar.

“Yup…” Essenta responded. “She’s still quite the lady… I wonder what you’re like.”

Loress shrugged, “I dunno. You don’t want to know what a full-blooded Terran has to do to get drunk…”

“Whaddya mean?”

Blushing a little, Loress replied with a nasty, uneven smile, “The mouth isn’t the only way to introduce alcohol to the body…”

Essenta blanched, “Ish…!”

Just then, a commotion resounded from the other side of the pub. The princess and the Terran turned and saw Wilka dancing up on a table. The other three mares whooped and hollered as stallions began throwing coins at the petite Pegasus.

Ama had noticed the uproar as well, “Damn it all… my friend’s making an ass of herself. Please excuse me…”

She left her new acquaintances and made a beeline for Wilka. Sensing trouble, Essenta and Loress moved too. Ama got there first. The sober mares kept their distance, hoping for the best.

“Wilka! You get down from that table this instant!” Ama barked.

Wilka turned towards her, giving a most lascivious leer, and shaking her flank, “Hey, Ama! You want some of this?!”

Wilka began to strip off her tunic; stallions cheered.

“Wilka Starling! You’re a lady! Stop this!”

To the boos of many ponies, Ama deftly pulled the little Pegasus off the table. Dechaa, Zyra, and Orni quickly followed.

Approaching Essenta and Loress, Ama had the struggling Wilka held around the trunk, “I think we’d best take our leave, girls… We don’t need trouble.”

Deciding they couldn’t agree more, they all followed their well-grounded inebriate friend towards the door.

Near the exit, Ama swooned; she let go of Wilka, who suddenly seemed too drunk to stand.

Watching Wilka collapse, Essenta asked, “What’s wrong, Ama?”

“I… don’… feel…”

Lurching to one side, Ama projectile-vomited; it splattered square in a card game some stallions were playing. Essenta and Loress were shocked, watching the cards, the chips, the money, and the drinks on the table scatter in all directions by the incredible amount of puke.

All activity in the pub ceased. All the patrons looked on, their faces dawning realization and utmost horror, knowing just who the tall mare had booted on. The only sound to be heard for a few seconds was the drip, drip, drip of the pooled barf puddle finding its way to the floor.

The stallions around the table weren’t too happy about this puddle. One stood, covered chin to balls in a little of everything Ama had had to drink or eat that night.

“You little cu-uh-uh-uh-n…!” his words fell off like syphilis as he took in Ama’s height.

Ama was too out of it to hear what he said. Essenta quickly looked over to the other girls; other than Loress, they were worse than worthless, all dead on their hooves. This wasn’t good.

A few murmurs could be heard in the pub then. Ama coughed.

Looking down in astonishment at the mess she’d made, Ama winced, “Whoops…”

The stallion regained his senses and swung a cane, catching Ama across the face, “‘Whoops’?!! Do you have any idea who I am?!”

On pins and needles, the patrons held their breath.

Ama’s face twitched at the blow. Eyes watering, she turned to him. Her face was no longer kind or ladylike, as much as murderous.

“Some asshole!” quickly changing her tune, Ama wound up and aimed a punch.

The stallion leapt out of the way; Ama’s hoof connected and the table splintered. Jaws across the pub dropped; ponies ran screaming for the exits. Seeing Ama’s blow, the six stallions that had been playing cards split in six different directions.

Roaring, Ama went after them, but was stopped by Loress; the Terran managed to hold on, but it wasn’t easy, even for her.

Ponies were still streaming out when a loud BANG! rang out.

Looking towards the source of the noise, Essenta saw a rather handsome unicorn with a smoking horn; he was surrounded by about 15 beefy stallions.

He called out, “Pub’s closed, everypony. Clear out…!”

Taking no time doing it, and already doing so, the pub emptied. The brothers running the place appeared from their hiding place behind the bar.

Ama had just nodded off in Loress’s grasp, Essenta noted. She also saw the rest of the girls collapsed in a heap. A fresh pool of sick spewed from Zyra’s mouth with a healthy splort; she was facedown on the dirty floor, mumbling.

The air was tense as the handsome unicorn eyed the situation. The tension broke when the “asshole” Ama had tried to squash whined.

“Clovis! I want you and your boys to take these mares out back and put ‘em in a shallow hole!”

Clovis turned his sharp eyes to the other stallion, “Shut it, Pallo; this is your fault.”

Pallo looked scandalized, “You dare speak to me that way?! She blew chunks on our game! I’m an underboss! You’re just an enforcer!”

“And I don’t work for you… I answer to the boss. And kill ‘em for what?! You’re fine, you cock-stain! All that happened was your dirty game got tossed up.”

“You little bastard!”

Clovis laughed openly at him, “You can try to do them in… But be careful; that looker, there? She’s a Terran. And that mare slouching towards the floor she’s holding up? The one that almost brained you? She’s a Mazan… and a tough one; it takes more than a normal pony to fragment oak.”

Pallo looked a little scared.

“Want to give it a try?” Clovis leered.

Pallo seemed to have a hard time making up his mind; he settled on leaving with his five card-playing buddies. They didn’t even bother picking up their game or their money.

Clovis sighed, looking around the pub, “Well, there goes a half-night’s profits… Boss ain’t gonna like this… I suppose we could hose off the money the boys were throwing around… might make up for a little of it.”

Essenta couldn’t think of much to say; her eyes implored Loress to try.

Loress, able to usually deal with most things since she’d found some confidence, spoke, “Uh, Clovis, was it? We’re, uh… sorry about all this. We-”

“I understand, miss.”

“Then… yay,” Loress’s eyes darted among the stallions facing them. “So… we’ll just leave… and-”

Clovis laughed, “Leave? You’re not leaving, Loress Claystable.”

Loress’s jaw dropped.

Clovis continued, “And you… Princess Essenta of the Dale! My, it’s good to meet you! You’ve come a long way the last few months.”

“How do you know…?” Essenta began. “No… it’s stupid to ask you that. Yes, I am Essenta Dale.”

Clovis smiled back at her, looking cocksure of himself. Loress was getting scared, her confidence disappearing fast.

Essenta wasn’t in the mood for any shit, “I don’t like the way you’re looking at me, Clovis… And I don’t tolerate threats to my girls. We can do this the easy way, or-”

The stallion laughed; it was an odd picture, the young, handsome stallion standing before a wall of stoic, hefty stallions, “Yes, I’m sure you and Loress could probably whoop us, but we have magic. It seems you’re a little low in that department for the time. Sure, we’d all leave our share of blood on the floor, but what would that solve?”

“You’re after the bounty, aren’t you?” she glared daggers, bristling at him. “If you think you’re getting us, you’ve got another thing coming. I’ll show you your own nuts and make you eat them, you cock-suckin’ faggot! I'll- mmm-mmm-mmm! Mmph?!”

Clovis was guffawing at Loress’s sheer horror, his glowing horn proof he was the one to button her lip, “You’ve got pretty big balls of your own, Princess. Relax… I’m not interested in such things… but the boss may be.”

Loress was now effectively terrified; there didn’t seem to be a way out of this that didn’t involve a lot of mess.

“But the boss doesn’t need to know who you and your friends are. You see, we have a… situation in town… and I need… a mare’s touch to deal with it. Several mares. If you help us… win or lose… you can be on your way in a couple days. Nopony, not the boss, not that pecker Pallo, needs to know who you are.”

Essenta was released from the spell, “Why should we trust you?! You’ve got a backing there and you have all the cards in the first place!”

Loress clung to her friend, “Essenta…”

Essenta realized Loress was pretty shaken up to use her name, so she cooled her manner, “Okay… Please tell me… How can we trust you?”

One of the many stallions proudly said, “Clovis is the most honorable stallion we know. We work for him! We don’t answer to the boss; we answer to Clovis. If he says something, we take it and run with it.”

Hearing Clovis was honorable in the den of sin they jokingly called a city didn’t mean much, but at least it was said with conviction.

Clovis turned to the stallion who spoke up before turning back to Essenta, “Thanks, Salvo. And take that for what you will, Princess, but you don’t have much choice. That Pallo’s already whined to the boss, I’m sure… and somepony’s gonna answer for the pub closing early. Think of your friends. Five mares are no small baggage, even if you do get away.”

Clovis had started to make sense, whether Essenta and Loress liked it or not.

He finished with, “The boss isn’t exactly a fan of his son, but he loves Pallo. To appease his son’s complaining, he might just cave to whatever the little turd wants.”

Realizing going along with Clovis was the best option of many bad ones, the girls’ eyes showed they agreed.

“Fine, Clovis…” Essenta submitted. “What’s going on?”

Essenta flopped on the feather bed, snuggling into the blanket, “Ooh, this is nice! This beats the Hell out of those lousy sawdust mattresses at the inn.”

The girls were in a mansion near the edge of the city, bedding down in a room for six.

Loress sat on the bed next to hers, listening to snores blast from four other mattresses, “And to think, you were ready to kill this Clovis character not an hour ago.”

Essenta turned, her face a mask of innocence, “I don’t think he’s such a bad guy… he had his crew get our stuff and bring it to us.”

“He threw Ama into a jail cell! She’s not gonna be happy, waking up in there…” Loress had difficulty saying that with a straight face, imagining her dignified indignation and splendid manners upon awakening.

Essenta had decided to go with the flow; it was easier than worrying sometimes, “He only did that to appease Pallo; it was the best way for Pallo to go along with this.”

Loress sneered, “We don’t even know what Clovis wants from us, Princess. And we haven’t met this boss… Suppose he decides to put our heads on spikes… or give us to his soldiers… You ever seen a proper fuck-den, Essenta?!”

The Terran’s anxiety was evident in her language; she half-expected to wake up chained to a wall, with some drunk stallion trying to push rope on her.

But Essenta was convinced, “Really, Loress… there’s something about Clovis… I trust him.”

“You’re not the kind of mare to just fall for some stallion… What’s going on in that head of yours?!” Loress was not going for this.

“I just… can tell he’s not a bad pony… at least not very bad. The stallions with him? Fear doesn’t command that kind of loyalty.”

“‘Loyalty’, my pink flaps… You don’t know what you’re talking about, Princess…” Loress turned over with a groan.

“Whatever… let’s just get some sleep… Boy… the girls are in for a surprise in the morning…”

Loress grumbled and blew out the candle lighting the room, “I can do with sleep.”

Author's Note

Check out the Appendix for Princess Essenta, updated as the story moves along. It shows the story's timeline and character designs. Contains spoilers.

Just when things were looking good for the girls again, they find themselves in trouble. How will they get out of this one?

If you enjoy Princess Essenta, please take a look at Larkspur Blossom. A story of a colt finding his worth and making a better life for himself.

Also look for The Virgin Company. A tale of a military pony and his platoon in a war centuries ago.

Like, follow, or leave a comment if you please. It's been fun writing and I'm glad some enjoy it.

Thanks for reading, and take care.

Chapter 26: Bed, Bath, & Breakfast

"Last Chance" Stopover Arc

“Pardon me… Would you be so good to bring me something to drink…? Perhaps something to get this taste from my mouth?”

Despite the early morning, one of many of the estate’s guards was playing a card game with the gardener and the assistant chef; they’d been ignoring the polite Mazan, stuck behind bars, for some time.

Ama didn’t remember much of the night before; this was unusual for her, never before having a fuzzy mind, other than a fever or two when she was a filly. The cell had been bare, other than a bale of hay in one corner; she’d made a bed and she was glad she’d had the presence of mind to establish a straw pile for her horse pies and other excrementitious material in the other corner.

Not feeling good upon waking up, but better off by far than the average pony might be after drinking enough to kill a large hoofful of ponies, she was thirsty. She’d hated relieving herself when they could see, not that they bothered watching.

“Please… I could really use some water.”

“If we give her something to drink, you think she’d be able to puke this far? Ruin our game?” the gardener crowed.

The other two laughed. Ama flushed a little; she didn’t remember it, but she’d been hearing little else all morning other than she’d thrown up on somepony’s card game… and for some reason she wound up boxed away… probably because she’d thrown up on somepony’s card game.

“You know what they say about tall mares, right?” the guard giggled.

“Uh… no,” the assistant chef had no idea.

Still giggling, the guard spouted, “I dunno, but they sure can throw a boot!”

Ama flushed more deeply, sinking to her hay bed. Did she ever feel foolish…

Clatter! Smash!

The Mazan maiden looked up; a most handsome stallion had bucked the card table, sending it and its contents into the wall. He proceeded to beat the stuffing out of the three stallions.

“You stupid cocksuckers! Whaddaya think you’re doing? You have jobs to do! The boss doesn’t pay you to sit around with your dicks in your hooves!”

“Ow-ow-ow-ow-ow! Stop, Clovis! We’re going!” the gardener howled.

Clovis stopped the assistant chef, “You asshole! How long has the young mare been awake?! Bring her something nice to eat… something light with some fresh fruit.”

Nodding dumbly, the stallion blurted, “Yessir!”

Clovis kicked him in the ass, sending him end over end, “Save that ‘sir’ talk for the boss! Get going!”

The guard had begun to inch away. Clovis turned.

“You! Under no circumstances are you to deprive somepony of water and privy! And a mare! That calls for privacy, too!”

“But, Clovis! Pallo told us to-”

Clovis roared, “I don’t give a flying fuck at a rolling doughnut what that little fruit said! He doesn’t make the rules! The boss makes the rules! And that’s law around here!”

“Okay! I’ll get some water!”

“Hurry up!” Clovis hissed. “Bring a little mint, too.”

Vanishing like morning dew on a hot rock, the guard split.

Turning down his dials in a hurry, Clovis approached Ama, “Good morning, Ama Waterfall. I’m Clovis. I can’t tell you how sorry I am they treated you this way.”

Ama could tell this stallion wasn’t all bad, “Hello, Clovis. I would ask you how you know my name but that seems foolish, given my situation. Could you at least please tell me where I am?”

“I’ll do you one better. C’mon in, girls,” he said pleasantly.

Essenta and Loress entered the room.

Ama flustered some, looking to them with a shy grin, “As Zyra might say… I am in a bit of a pickle…”

“You could say that!” Essenta met her at the bars, unable to poke a hoof through the small spaces between them; she wasn’t happy to see her friend locked up, despite already knowing she was. “Are you alright, Ama?”

“Clovis has secured me something to eat and drink, so I will be better soon… I hear I put on a show last night…” she finished with a mumble.

Loress shook her head, “You actually stopped Wilka from putting on a show. Things got out of hoof. You did nothing to be… too ashamed of.”

“Are the other girls well?” Ama wondered. “And… have you bathed?!”

Essenta and Loress smelled of lavender and had on gowns. Looking to one another, they shuffled their hooves; they felt a little guilty, being fresh and clean while Ama was still stinking of their journey and the night before.

“They’re fine…” Essenta admitted.

“Whoo-hoo!” Wilka leapt into the hot water, splashing Dechaa, nursing a hangover, on the edge of the bath.

“Cut it out!” she whimpered.

Wilka was enjoying herself; the bath was big enough to do laps, “This place musta cost a fuckin’ fortune!”

Looking around, she could see some lovely brickwork in the walls; the floors and bath were made of marble. What impressed her was the place was nice- not just the bath- but not garish or extravagant. Everything was beautiful but functional.

Orni and Zyra were scrubbing themselves and each other down in the corner of the room.

Orni murmured happily as Zyra washed her back, “Just be careful of the wing joints…”

“I know… tender,” Zyra magicked a nice course brush through the fur on Orni’s back; Orni melted.

Wilka was giggling, floating on her back, “I don’t even want to know what this ‘boss’ did to land a place like this!”

The girls knew they were in a mansion… that had a large bath… and many rooms… and guards… a lot of guards. They’d woken up feeling decent enough, other than Dechaa, well after the other three girls were “up and about”. A filly in a maid outfit, not even caring to know their names, had led them down to the bath, after explaining one of their friends caused a “misunderstanding” but the master of the house was “good enough” to offer them beds.

While concerned about “Essenta’s lack of discipline” and being in the dark about most things, they knew all of them were alive and well. And when a hot bath was offered and breakfast to boot- after feather beds- they weren’t likely to turn either down. Once they’d exited the bath, dry towels and gowns awaited them all.

Another filly in a maid outfit led them through the main hallway, “The master of the house has invited you to breakfast; mind your manners…”

A little put off by the brusqueness of the filly, no older than any of them, they followed her.

Entering the dining room, this was most impressive. The chandelier was real crystal. The walls were covered in gorgeous paintings. The large table- full of wonderful-looking food- was made of tiger maple, it’s rich grain reminiscent of tortoiseshell. And the silverware was sterling silver.

“Wow…” Orni had never seen anything like this.

The rest were impressed too but had all seen such extravagance.

The doors on the other side opened; a most handsome stallion entered. With him were the princess and the Terran.

The handsome unicorn eyed the maid, “Thank you, Delia. You may go.”

Delia blushed, simpering, “Yes, Mr. Clovis.”

As Delia exited, Clovis turned to the four mares that didn’t quite recall meeting him, “Good morning, girls… I’m Clovis and-”

Zyra blurted, “Where’s Ama?!”

The other three, fresh from the bath, noticed as well.

Clovis wasn’t even put off by this, “She’s fine. As I discussed with-”

A third set of doors burst open; a rather stupid-looking stallion with a potbelly lumbered in, “Clovis! I told you to see the mares fed! Not to give them free range of the baths and the good food!”

Clovis answered coolly, before blowing up, “And you know you’re supposed to give anypony in holding water. ALSO, YOU KNOW DAMN WELL THAT EVEN THOUGH THERE’S NO WINDOW TO THROW IT OUT OF, YOU GIVE THEM A BUCKET TO PISS IN! IF YOU DENY ANOTHER PONY THAT AGAIN, I’LL PEEL YOUR NUTSACK OFF LIKE A SHEET OF BIRCHBARK!”

The douchey-looking stallion cowered.

Clovis pointed to the fool, the girls liking Clovis more and more, “This dickhead, unfortunately, is the master’s son, Pallo. He was so discourteous to see your friend suffer a night without even the bare necessities. For that, I am sorry. Rest assured, I’ll see he pays for his assholery.”

Pallo whined, “You just wait ‘til my dad hears about this! I’m underboss! He’s the boss! How dare you-”

Clovis picked up and hurled an apple from the table and scored a direct hit on Pallo’s balls; not heeding Pallo’s crying or even appearing to care, he turned back to the girls, “And don’t call the boss ‘the boss’… not in his own house from strangers. Call him ‘the master’ or Master Melchior; if he likes you, he may ask you to call him ‘Mel’.”

Watching Pallo waddle away, howling in agony, four of the girls were very confused.

Dechaa’s head hurt; she turned to their brave leader, “Okay… what the fuck’s going on, Sen?!”

As the girls and Clovis tucked in, Loress recounted the story. It beggared the imaginations of the girls, other than Essenta and Loress, how Ama of all ponies was the one to land them in hot water. Clovis, knowing full well who they were, had given them an “out”, which had yet to be discussed.

Essenta asked, “So, Clovis… What now?”

“Well, Ama is having breakfast of her own, not what’s before you, but something nice. She’ll be fine. I must ask… I know she is quite the warrior… if allowed a little more freedom, would she cause any trouble?”

Essenta could understand the question; he knew nothing about them, really, “I told her to cooperate, but there was no need; she’s probably the best mannered among us. She won’t give you any trouble.”

Clovis smiled, “I surmised as such. In that case, we’ll let her use the bath after breakfast. But she’ll have to go back to the cell… once it’s been cleaned and furnished reasonably; that’s how it is.”

Essenta hadn’t liked agreeing to Ama staying confined until they were done with this “task that needed a mare’s touch”, even though they didn’t yet know what they’d be doing, “I understand.”

Zyra wasn’t pleased, “What?! Why?! Why’d you let them lock her up in the first place?!”

Loress barked at her, “Watch it, Zyra. We had to make some decisions last night.”

Clovis nodded, “Indeed. Mel will be in soon; he had some business to conduct this morning. Once he’s here, I recommend you use any aliases you may have. The boss doesn’t know who you are and nopony wishing you ill knows either; you’ll want to keep it that way. I assure you any staff that know won't divulge, on my orders. We’ll discuss what we need of you soon.”

Wilka was shoveling in cantaloupe by the hoofful, “Anything you can tell us, now?”

Clovis smiled, “I have a job that needs doing… I need five or six mares for it… and when Ama ‘inconvenienced’ Pallo, I saw an opportunity when he otherwise would’ve tried- unsuccessfully, I’m sure- to fight you all… and here we are!”

While Essenta and Loress had already submitted to this, the rest ranged in their acceptance. Zyra was furious, Wilka unhappy, Dechaa just hungover, and Orni was more afraid than anything.

Clovis, more perceptive than many would give any stallion credit, tried to ease their nerves… or at least set things out straight, “Listen… Pallo’s a piece of crap but he’s Master Melchior’s son. Pallo’s had ponies killed for less than ruining his card game. Mel demands compensation for the pub closing… and for the headache his son gave him whining to him, still covered in somepony’s puke. Neither would think much of turning you in for the bounty if they found out who you all are… or worse. I wouldn’t tell them, but they’d find out… unless you’re really as fearsome as I’ve heard.

“But that sounds like a lot of trouble, you having to kill your way out of the city. If you go along with this, Mel won’t ask too many questions. This job is for him. He just wants it done quietly and I found him a crew. With your skills, unnecessary for the job anyway, it’ll be a snap and you’ll be on your merry way in a couple days. Ama’s only locked up to appease Pallo. She and all of you will be fine. You have my word.”

Zyra looked venomous, “You talk big… you’re just the master’s ‘enforcer’… but, still, it sounds like he trusts you greatly. What does your word mean to him or anypony else?”

Clovis leaned back in his chair, sipping on tea, “He trusts me… Pallo always screams about being underboss- and he is- and he’s not the only underboss… But who do you think runs Mel’s little enterprise for him?”

The girls felt an unmistakable murkiness fill the room. Clovis radiated something reminiscent of the “demon knight” they’d encountered, if less demonic in nature; it was all him… no adulteration.

“I have no interest in harming any of you or your interests… Just go with the flow and all will be well.”

Essenta stared him down, “You said we’d get out of this, ‘win or lose’, in the end. Is that your word… or your boss’s?”

Clovis took a moment, considering the princess; he grinned broadly, and the room again took on his impression a few seconds, “You let me worry about that…”

Delia reappeared, giving halt to all else, “Mr. Clovis… guests… may I present Master Melchior…”

Author's Note

Check out the Appendix for Princess Essenta, updated as the story moves along. It shows the story's timeline and character designs. Contains spoilers.

If you enjoy Princess Essenta, please take a look at Larkspur Blossom. A story of a colt finding his worth and making a better life for himself.

Also look for The Virgin Company. A tale of a military pony and his platoon in a war centuries ago.

Like, follow, or leave a comment if you please. It's been fun writing and I'm glad some enjoy it.

Thanks for reading, and take care.

Chapter 27: Master Melchior

"Last Chance" Stopover Arc

Master Melchior turned out to be something of a dandy; a snappy, but practical dresser with a mild manner, the girls could only imagine what kind of stallion lay behind his jovial eyes. An Earth pony around the age of 40, he’d amassed the kind of wealth that the Dale would envy.

They were learning of his enterprises as they all shared lunch.

“So, Sen…” Melchior was able to use a knife and fork without magic; it was impressive, watching him tuck into his late-morning salad. “I’ve met ponies from all over the world- not just the continent- and I’d say at least of a few of you are Valley mares… your accents… Joeh, or the like…”

Essenta came back pleasantly, “‘The like’, Master Melchior. My friends ‘Ren’ and ‘Aryz’ worked for the herbalist back home… I’m just a farmgirl; I feel a little out of my element, with so little agriculture around here…”

“I wouldn’t mind showing you our hydroponics operation, Sen…” Melchior popped a cherry tomato into his mouth. “I think Ren and Aryz would be interested too, knowing a thing or two about elements and compounds. We oxygenate water full of essential minerals and grow all sorts of crops without soil. I admit we can’t do much with root vegetables, but lettuce, cabbage, tomatoes, most anything leafy or with a vine do quite well.”

Essenta giggled, “I’ve heard of such a thing… We grow beets on our farm, mostly… sugarbeets and table beets. Up north, beets are about the only way to get sugar, Master Melchior. And we still grow so many other things.”

“Please, Sen, you don’t need to call me ‘Master’. ‘Melchior’ is fine…” Melchior took a sip off a glass of wine. “Ah, good stuff… One thing we’ll never be able to do is grapes, that way. The vineyard in town is as old as the trees around here. This year’s grapes aren’t the best they’ve been in recent years, but still make a nice wine. The fellow that manages the vineyard found an ingenious way to irrigate; it uses less than half the water we used to put towards it.”

Essenta smiled demurely, “You wouldn’t believe some of the things we make wine out of up north, Melchior… Strawberries, rhubarb, plums… anything, really, other than grapes. The winters are just too harsh… Speaking of the climate down here, do you also grow sugarcane?”

“The lack of moisture here makes growing cane difficult, so we have to bring in sugar up from the tropics. I can’t say I’ve ever had sugar from beets. How is it?”

“Some ponies say they can tell the difference, but in the end it’s all sugar. That’s what I think, at least. Beets actually make a pretty nice molasses.”

Melchior chuckled, “Well, it’s a good thing cane does, as well, because I have a weakness for molasses cookies. They’re my favorite treat. In fact, we can have some with tea after the main dish; the baker has a batch in the oven and I’d love for you and your friends to try some.”

“Oh, that sounds wonderful!” Essenta beamed. “I love molasses too, but it’s just so hard to keep it on the road; dry sugar’s so much easier to travel with.”

“I can imagine,” Melchior leaned forward on his hooves, simpering.

The little company watched in amazement as their leader talked up the “industrialist” with her knowhow of agriculture. Melchior was delighted with her and they could see even Clovis was impressed with her game. So far, they’d seen nothing to indicate Melchior was anything else than an entrepreneur, but they remained wary.

“Ren, Aryz…” he addressed Dechaa and Zyra respectively. “What herbs grow best up where you’re from? Down here we have a plethora of flora, especially in the tropics south of us, but what can you find at your latitude? I’m wondering if there’s anything worth shipping from the north instead of across the desert…”

Melchior had explained, implicitly and explicitly, that he supplied the city with many things. Food, medicine, goods… Thankfully, Dechaa and Zyra were able to answer his question.

Dechaa tried not to blush, “Chickweed.”

Melchior raised an eyebrow, “Chickweed?”

“Yes, sir… Chickweed,” Dechaa managed to speak easily, falling back on her knowledge. “Depending on what plant part you use, it can be an antirheumatic, astringent, a carminative, demulcent, diuretic, an emollient, expectorant, a laxative, refrigerant, vulnerary…”

Watching in astonishment as the pretty mare counted off the uses on her hooves, Melchior guffawed, “Whoa, whoa! Forget I asked… But chickweed… I’ll talk to the botanist about it.”

Zyra put in, “You wouldn’t even have to bring it in from over the mountains… The stuff grows wild in the foothills north of town. It’s more or less ubiquitous across the continent.”

“Amazing,” Melchior shook his head. “It’s simply amazing how we can find the things we need no matter where we are.”

Dechaa nodded, “Indeed… our ancestors up north… got creative, sometimes, but generations of tried and true means have gotten us by.”

Melchior, looking even more pleased, leaned back in his chair, “You two must talk with the botanist and the apothecary! Imagine the money saved! The lower prices!”

Marshalling a smile, Zyra beamed, “We’d be happy to.”

Taking a few bites of salad, Melchior turned to Loress, “What’s your story, gorgeous?”

Loress was taken aback at his addressing her, “Well… I’m ‘Resso’… I’m a baker by trade… I guess you could say I’m the cook on our little crew.”

“And a Terran,” Melchior took a sip of wine.

“Yes, sir. Strange choice… and strange circumstances found me traveling. Meeting the girls… I just wanted to travel with them upon meeting them…”

But Melchior grew bored of the demure mare; she was the most beautiful mare he’d ever seen but he’d take a fun filly over that any day of the week and twice on Sunday. “Resso” struck him as downright boring.

“Willi…” he spoke to Wilka, a gleam in his eye. “I hear you’re the one that started all the mischief at the pub.”

Wilka hoofed the back of her neck, “Yeah, about that…”

Melchior waved a hoof, “It’s not all that big a deal. You’re not the one that vomited on my idiot son’s game of cards. You’re not the first filly- nor will you be the last- to dance on one of those tables. I at least hope the ale was to your liking. Those brothers- and me- are quite happy with the new recipe. It’s my equipment they use.”

“I… enjoyed it very much, sir, it was delicious,” Wilka managed to eke out.

“You, I like!” Melchior grinned broadly at her. “You’re cute as pie… Sorry, Sen! Willi’s the first one to catch my fancy! You can call me ‘Mel’, Willi.”

The rest of the girls’ stomachs twinged, Fancy?! Wilka especially felt uneasy but hid it well.

“Sure, Mel,” Wilka forced out, looking as natural as could be. “Thanks for your kindness.”

Turning his attention, finally, to Orni, Melchior took a moment with her, “My dear, you’re a most interesting little Earth pony if you don’t mind me saying; you’re built like a brick shed!”

Realizing this was an observation rather than a complement or an insult, Orni attempted something unexpected, “I’m just compact, sir… What do you get when you cross a dwarf pony with a hooker?”

Melchior was bemused the plain, but pretty filly answered in such a way, “I… dunno.”

Leaning away from the table, she held her hoof near the floor and said in a deadpan voice, “A little fucker about this high.”

Dechaa blanched at that; the rest of the room did a take and burst out laughing… even Clovis.

“Now… now… Oh, that was great!” Melchior crowed. “Clovis, you found a great bunch of mares!”

Clovis tried to remain smiling as his boss beat on his back, “Yessir. Thanks.”

The girls were astonished Orni had managed such a thing; Melchior at least appeared to be enjoying himself.

Wiping tears from his eyes and hiccupping, Melchior looked to Orni, “I’m sorry, I never caught your name…”

Orni gave a nice little smile, “‘Nior’, sir…”

Melchior pounded Clovis on the back again, “A most interesting bunch! I’m almost curious what their real names are!”

The girls stopped dead; their blood ran cold. Not a one of them could say anything in reply. Looking to Clovis, he was unreadable and only shrugged.

Melchior dropped the façade. It didn’t take magic or special perception to read him. The girls knew what power felt like, and this wasn’t anything like the “demon knight”; rather than just feeling scared at sheer power they felt their skin crawl instead.

Picking his teeth, Melchior mused, “The names you gave me sound like you pulled them out of your asses this morning. Whether you took Clovis’s advice on that or did it yourselves, I don’t blame you: you all have something to hide… It’s a good thing I don’t give a fuck who you are or where you really came from. Clovis thinks you’re good for the job and not only do I trust him on most matters, but I’m convinced myself.

“You see… the city just elected a new mayor… or governor… whatever. Somepony new’s in charge and he’s going back on a few of his campaign promises. I want that piece of garbage out of office but he’s squeaky clean… on the surface. I think he’s hiding something… and you’re gonna find out what it is. Once you do, it’ll be easy to… convince him… to leave office. The deputy-mayor… governor… who gives a fuck…? He’s the kind of pony we need around, and the job will fall to him.

“Now… you dig up the dirt on this bastard and you’ll be on your way before you know it. Your tall friend… stays put until I get results.”

The girls felt more and more at odds the more words fell out of this guy’s mouth. Clovis, looking unsure for the first time since they met him, spoke up.

“Sir… you promised the mare Pallo wanted locked up would go free, whether the mission was successful or not.”

Melchior’s face showed love at the mention of his son’s name, “Oh, yes, Pallo… My only son… You did lock her up for him… I gave Pallo the reins of the pub and he hasn’t been doing all that bad. He was quite upset about his game, not to mention the oak table. He furnished the place, after all, and oak doesn’t grow on this side of the mountains… Tough to come by.

The girls noted Clovis. His manner was no longer indecipherable; something had suddenly bothered him.

Melchior rang a bell next to him; Delia the maid appeared immediately.

“Yes, Master Melchior?” she asked pleasantly; her presentation was agreeable, but she looked unwell.

“Have the boys bring in Pallo for me…” he purred.

If Delia looked a little sick at first, she looked positively nauseated as she left the room, “Yes, Master Melchior.”

Clovis had started to sweat; this… wasn’t a good sign, the girls thought as one. The smooth-talking stallion that had most of them creaming at breakfast was falling apart before their eyes.

After a few minutes, four stallions- none of whom were of Clovis’s entourage- entered the room with Pallo among them. Delia was nowhere to be seen.

“Pallo!” Melchior cried out. “How’s my son this morning?”

Pallo wasn’t doing well; he had a bag of ice over his nether region. He looked surly and glared at Clovis.

Pallo sounded like a spoiled brat when he spoke, not that the girls could blame him when his boys had swelled up from the apple hitting him, “That asshole Clovis chucked an apple at my nuts this morning! See?!”

The girls averted their eyes as the foolish son displayed the only masculine thing about him.

“Oh, that looks painful, son… What did you do to piss him off this time?”

The girls and Clovis expected him to say “nothing” as a brat might; he sighed, “I… mouthed off to him… regarding his own responsibilities… It’s his job to do as he sees fit. I should’ve respected that… And I broke some rules; I was upset. He warned me last night and I didn’t listen…”

It could be said the company was shocked to hear that; he’d been such a tool but hearing a little maturity out of him- and sincerity- had them thinking he wasn’t the worst stallion they’d met recently.

But Clovis looked even worse than he had; it gave the girls pause.

“How many times is that, Clovis? You hit my boy so much in his family jewels I’ll never get any grandfoals!” Melchior guffawed.

The four stallions that had brought Pallo into the room had started looking a little peaked. And Clovis’s look only worsened. The girls now experienced a quiet alarm ringing in the backs of their minds.

Pallo laughed, clapping his father on the back, “Dad, you know that’s a load of horseshit… a few hits to the twins never hurt anypony too badly.”

Pallo failed to notice his father; the jolly smile had become a taut lear. The alarm the girls felt grew a little louder.

Melchior spoke as if he hadn’t even heard his son, “Tell me, Clovis… how do you think it makes a stallion feel knowing he’ll never have any grandfoals?”

Pallo noticed something was up, “Uh… Dad?”

Melchior heaved Pallo onto the table, picked up his table knife- the very one he’d been using to cut his vegetables- and performed two deft cuts near Pallo’s rear-end.

Pallo screamed; the high-pitched shriek rang through the room and took a wild trip through the bodies of those present.

Another deft movement by Melchior resulted in a squelch. Two items the size of lemons spun across the table.

Dechaa screamed as one rolled past her, knocking over her wine glass. Wilka fainted on the spot. The rest were too shocked to do much else. Their eyes alternated from Melchior, looking positively merry again, to the writhing Pallo, to the male glands resting on the table.

Melchior roughly shoved the still-howling Pallo from the table; he hit the ground hard. Blood soaked the tablecloth and pretty much everything else nearby.

As calmly as if he’d just entered the room, Melchior sat down, wiped the knife on the tablecloth, and went back to his mixed vegetables with the same utensil.

Not even looking at his son, he waved to the four stallions, “Get that out of here… Patch it up and send it on the next wagon east… Maybe it can be a monk or something; it sure ain’t a stallion.”

One of the four stallions wiped flecks of vomit from the corner of his mouth as they hauled Pallo away, still crying weakly as he passed out. A trail of blood followed them out the door.

Essenta may have been the only mare with the presence of mind to come out of the shock right away. With a trickle of blood spattered across her front he glared at Clovis, in anger and disbelief. He looked astonished and sick… but not entirely so, as if he’d seen all of that before. Giving her a nervous, barely perceptible shake of his head, he gave an all-in look.

By now Dechaa had passed out too and Orni looked close to it. To Essenta’s surprise Zyra didn’t appear to go off the deep-end but gawked in horror at the testicles, one of which came to rest in front of her. Loress had thrown up in her own lap, looking dazed. The princess’s own stomach was threatening revolt.

Melchior blithely said to Clovis, chewing imperturbably, “Well, the big mare’s still in the cell… Since I don’t have a son, she must be there because I want her to be there.”

“Yessir,” was all Clovis managed.

Finishing his plate, Melchior wiped his mouth and stood up; Clovis looked close to shitting himself when Melchior clapped him on the shoulder, leaving a bloody hoofprint, “You know the plan, Clovis; brief the girls. Once they come back with results, I have no reason to keep them or their friend and they can be on their way. It’s all in your hooves.”

He’d just about cleared the door when he stopped.

“Oh, girls,” he looked back. “If you want some molasses cookies, they’ll be ready soon; I can smell them. Just ask one of the young mares that works here, and you’ll have all you like; they’ll get you anything you might need as well. I’ll be taking tea in my study.”

Melchior left the girls and Clovis to their thoughts.

Author's Note

Check out the Appendix for Princess Essenta, updated as the story moves along. It shows the story's timeline and character designs. Contains spoilers.

So that happened. With no real idea of what they've been pulled into, the girls realize just what kind of stallion they're working for.

Next time, the girls learn just what is expected of them.

If you enjoy Princess Essenta, please take a look at Larkspur Blossom. A story of a colt finding his worth and making a better life for himself.

Also look for The Virgin Company. A tale of a military pony and his platoon in a war centuries ago.

Like, follow, or leave a comment if you please. It's been fun writing and I'm glad some enjoy it.

Thanks for reading, and take care.

Chapter 29: Preparing For...

"Last Chance" Stopover Arc

“Oh, wow… I look like a princess!” Wilka giggled as she admired the modest, yet pretty seafoam gown she was wearing in a mirror.

She really didn’t but nopony was up for ruining her delight; the rest weren’t so happy.

The mares were in the servants’ quarters of Melchior’s mansion getting outfitted for their mission that night; they’d been there much of the day getting coached on their roles and manner for the dubious operation into which they’d been roped.

Essenta was much at odds about her assigned manner of dress, “I look like some priestess…! This thing’s really hot… and it itches…”

Clad ears to tail in a habit that covered even her pastel mane, it was about as comfortable as being stuck in a giant sock. At least her ears, hooves, and lower legs were free.

Loress, looking very fetching in a turquoise ballgown with her mane done up, giggled at the princess, “Now, now, Princess… This is normal attire for a lady-in-waiting of Terrow; you look fine.”

Essenta bewailed her predicament, “I know what ladies-in-waiting are supposed to look like; I have five of them, y’know… The wimple doesn’t need to be form-fitting…”

Essenta tried adjusting the cloth covering her head and neck to no avail.

“In Terrow it does, Princess. At least you can move your ears; some wimples deny even that. Suck it up,” Loress hoofed Essenta.

Dechaa and Zyra had fewer qualms regarding their own outfits. Dressed in ornate tunics, though ones befitting unicorn servants, the manner of dress was functional and inoffensive. They’d worn tunics very similar back home.

“You’ve gotta be kidding me…” Orni uttered at the outfit Delia the maid presented to her. “I’m not wearing that!”

The Earth pony maid was more concerned with her own skin than what would cover Orni’s; her laidback, half-mast eyes looked more at ease than she sounded, “If Mr. Clovis wants you to wear the colts’ traditional blouse and knickers as a colt of Avra would, you’re going to wear them, ‘Nior’… Feh! I still can’t believe the six of you would turn up in this city of all places-”

“Seven of us,” Zyra interrupted; she was still sore that Ama was locked up, especially since they hadn’t been able to see her that day.

“Right… seven,” Delia recalled, knowing for the last couple days who they were and where they were heading. “And you just had to wind up on Melchior’s bad side. Your fucking luck, girls… You lot must have the worst luck of nearly any visitors I’ve seen come through in a while and I’ve seen some ponies lose their life-savings down to the fillings in their teeth! What you saw yesterday… he’s terrifying!”

“What we saw?” Essenta bawled, so angry she wasn’t even bothering to filter her words. “You excused yourself for the punchline so are you talking about him popping Pallo’s coin purse or him showing you how to mop up the mess he made? ‘Now that’s how you clean a fuckin’ bloodstain!’? Oh, that was magical… just magical!”

The company recoiled at Essenta’s nasty statement; she was in a right sour mood, straining at her restrictive garment.

Delia was unamused and leered, “You’d better watch that kind of talk, Princess… That stallion’s mood is nothing to take lightly. What would you’ve done if Mr. Clovis hadn’t jumped in to save you the other night?”

Loress was playing with the ruffles on her gown, “We probably would’ve slung the asses of everypony that got in our way and kept right on traveling. Clovis was the only one to know who we were, and he still didn’t know who he was messing with.”

There was plenty of truth to this statement; in retrospect the girls wished very much they’d just fucked off… better yet they shouldn’t have even paused in the city for more than supplies.

Delia was fussing with Wilka’s blonde, voluminous mane, “Oh, please… You and the princess alone?! Five of you were so drunk you couldn’t even stand; in a pig’s ass you’d have escaped! And you’re all real tough, ganging up on Mr. Clovis yesterday.”

Zyra couldn’t hold back a chuckle, “Hey, that was Cap that nearly broke his ne-”

Essenta cuffed her old friend into silence, glowering, “Well, it isn't entirely my fault!”

Zyra laughed right in Essenta’s face, “You'd better be kidding when you say that. I soundproofed the room is all. I thought you’d just rough him up a little, not strangle him!”

The two bickered and were halted when Loress came up and clocked their heads together, “Stop acting like a couple of foals!”

The sound was a dull whock! The rest of the room cringed, watching as Essenta and Zyra rolled on the floor, wailing.

“You 19-year-old virgin!” Essenta spouted; she was so worked up she yelled out the very first thing that came to mind.

Loress smirked, “I turned 20 last week, Princess…”

Zyra winced as Delia hoofed her noggin, eyes welling up, “You asshole! That didn’t tickle, you know!”

“Lovely, Miss Terran…” Delia waxed with great sarcasm, examining the growing bump on the tearful Zyra’s head. “Mess up their faces when we need you all looking nice, tonight…”

Orni blanched, “They’re gonna have goose eggs now! Why’d you do that, Loress?!”

“Because they don’t need to look nearly as pretty as the rest of us tonight…” Loress quipped.

At that silence reigned for a few seconds; smiles began tugging at lips.

Dechaa was the first to snork; it was like a breath of oxygen to a weak flame…

And the whole room howled with laughter, even Delia. They laughed until the tears and mascara ran; Loress had to catch her own teardrops as not to stain her gown.

Out of breath, falling about the place, they all felt a little better… a little saner.

As they caught their wind, Essenta looked to Zyra, “Sorry.”

“Me too, Cap…” Zyra murmured.

Clovis suddenly burst into the room, “How’re things coming in here? I couldn’t hear anything from outside.”

Wilka jumped in alarm at the sudden entrance; the rest frowned at him

Delia glared at him, “Mr. Clovis… we’re dressing in here.”

It really wasn’t the biggest deal; they were ponies after all.

“I knocked! Nopony answered,” he protested.

Still unhappy with Clovis the girls just ignored him.

Clovis sighed and took in the scene; he had a lot riding on the success of the night and wanted to keep tabs.

Approaching Orni, Clovis wasn’t unhappy, “I’m glad we had an outfit like that lying around; it’s supposed to be in style out west, so you’ll fit in.”

Orni wasn’t so happy wearing the clothes of some unfortunate colt/stallion who was probably buried in a ditch nearby but knew it was part of the plan.

“That silly outfit fits you pretty well, Orni,” Wilka said with less than virtuousness in her voice and a twinkle in her eye.

The Knollwing scowled, “I don’t understand suspenders on a pony; it makes no sense… At least it’s not uncomfortable.”

“If that’s the best thing you can say about it then it’s not so bad,” Delia then went about struggling with a hem on Loress’s gown, “My, my… You don’t have much meat on you for a Terran… They’ll be all over you tonight.”

Loress simpered, dimpling a little; she enjoyed being what she was.

“Oh, and Delia- you’re going too,” Clovis said as he passed by Delia and Loress.

The prickly mare jolted, turning as she gawked at him with death in her eyes, “What?!”

The company was a little… surprised; Delia had appeared to have mostly respect for Clovis and now she was looking at him as if he was shit on a sundae.

Clovis flinched at her response, “You’re going along with us, Delia.”

The stallion again didn’t look so sure of himself, staring down the little maid.

Delia pulled off her bonnet, exposing the messiest mane any of them had seen in recent memory, and threw it in Clovis’s face; with fire in her voice she gushed, “If you think you’re pulling me into your grab-ass farce to out the mayor as a colt-tickler you can go suck dick in the sewer, Clovis!”

The little company was becoming impressed with Delia’s foul mouth. She also wasn’t calling him “Mr.” anymore.

Magicking her head-covering aside Clovis declared, “Do it and I’ll see you promoted to warden of the property.”

He said this as if he were handing her the greatest gift imaginable. She didn’t seem to think so and glowered at him.

“You're more than capable. Think about it, Delia… No more scrubbing the floors. It’s not like you’ll be able to buy your way out with your current job anytime soon. I can’t pay you extra for the job, but I can offer you an opportunity.”

This statement struck the girls. Was Delia a slave? They noticed Delia stir at what Clovis had said.

But the little maid set her mind in concrete, “No, Clovis… I’m not keen on being in charge of that lunatic’s estate.”

Clovis blanched, “Delia! Watch your mouth!”

“If you paid much attention you’d know the mage over there’s been keeping a soundproof bubble over the room half the day; that’s why it seemed so quiet to you,” she gestured towards Zyra. “And you may be okay with running his affairs outside of here, but would you be willing to oversee the mansion?!”

It was obvious Clovis would rather stick his dick in a termite hill; he hung his head, “…No…”

Delia glared at him, “Yes… you know what goes on just as well as I do. But when’s the last time you had to clean up somepony’s nuts? Wait- don't answer...! Eww... Regardless, I can deal with that, but I will not run the show. I’ll take my time getting out of here. By the time I’m 20 I’ll be free of this. Now… why don’t you piss off and let me finish dressing them?”

Clovis looked defeated but had one more thing to say, “Please… if not for a chance at getting out of here early… do it for me…”

“I owe you nothing, Clovis,” Delia uttered as she was again pinning Loress’s gown.

“I know you don’t… I’m asking… Mel’s different than usual… If this doesn’t go well… then… …I need your know-how! You worked that summer in the mayor’s mansion after the last renovation, when Mel wanted to 'repay' the old mayor a favor! I know you know the place just as well as you do this one… Mel had you case it, after all.”

Not looking at all happy, Delia sighed, “Fine… I’ll go... for the good of everypony… So, don’t get any other ideas. I swiped a new waitress uniform from city hall for just such an occasion, so I’ll make sure to wear that. Come on back when we’re ready for the final preparations. Now… go."

Without another word Clovis slunk off and out the door.

Zyra was impressed, “Wow… you got him to slither away without laying a hoof on him… Not that giving in had to be any better."

Delia sighed, “We’ve been… co-workers for a decade. Let’s just say we know each other pretty well. He came here with his crew… and I was dumped off to pay a debt.”

Wilka recoiled at hearing this; Orni put a hoof on her best friend’s shoulder and asked regardless, “So you’re… Are you…?”

“A slave? No…” Delia finished Loress’s hem. “I’m better off than that but not by much. Slavery technically doesn’t exist here, but indentured servitude surely does.”

The girls listened.

“Mom died years ago… My dad… ran up some gambling debts when we were traveling through here… Normally his scheming would've made him a bundle but... let's say the ponies running the game around here are a little more savvy than most. He ‘sold’ me to Master Melchior to deal with them. Thankfully, the master capped off what I owed him so it’s not like Dad could’ve just kept piling on the debt. He didn’t stop, though, and amassed more debt, to the point he owed more than what I owed. Dad never drank... or ran with mares of the night but he loved gambling."

This didn’t bode well; the girls had learned what kind of stallion Melchior was and could see where this was going.

“So… Did Melchior… uh…?” Zyra stumbled.

Delia waved a hoof, now poofing up Wilka’s ruffles, “Oh, no… Master Melchior could’ve offed him, but he put him to work instead. Thankfully he got stuck tending the vineyards, so I wouldn’t have to look at his worthless ass much…”

Loress decided to ask, “Is he still here, now?”

A sad, little smile crossed Delia’s lips, “No… But I will say this: once he got ‘put in his place’ I actually started to love him again. He shaped up and took great care of the vineyard. Considering he’d been a ‘professional’ gambler and lowlife as far back as I can remember he was… really happy. Despite what brought us here… we were both happy.”

That wasn’t the worst thing in the world, they supposed.

What Delia said next was expected, “And then one day… when I was 14… he died. I’m 18 now; that was four years ago.”

“I’m sorry,” Loress murmured.

“Don’t worry about it, Loress,” Delia chuckled. “He was out walking with some of the other farmhoofs… Dad was laughing at some joke he’d heard in the greenhouse… He slipped on some freshly-washed stairs in the courtyard, fell down three flights, and broke his silly neck.”

With Delia hooting over the matter, the girls were appalled; Dechaa was close to tears, “How could you laugh at that?!”

Deadpan, with her eyes at the now-familiar half-mast, Delia answered, “It was a really funny joke, Dechaa; he died laughing.”

Another burst of oxygen hit the low flame among the girls and they howled anew; their high-pitched laughter echoed as it hit the ceiling. This time they had a harder time cleaning up their faces, but a little unicorn magic took care of the mascara stains in Loress’s gown.

Having calmed down again, Delia called for order, “Okay… we’re just about ready. I’ll change into the other uniform.”

The little maid opened a wardrobe and began to shed her house uniform. Zyra, always one to address the elephant in the room when it struck her, put a hoof to her mouth in thought.

“Hmm… One thing that worries me…” she was eyeballing Orni.

Orni didn’t like the way she was looking at her, “What?”

“It’s your voice,” Zyra acknowledged. “It’s too… feminine.”

Orni bristled, “Well excuse me for being a filly! Not all of us sound like we gargle rocks!”

Wilka knew this was directed at her; she had a rather gruff voice, “Hey!”

Loress put in, “It’s not a big deal if Orni sounds like a young mare… She’s playing a 12-year-old colt after all. I mean… some of us have brothers; we know about colts’ puberty with the voice changing and all.”

This was very true.

But Essenta wasn’t fully convinced, “My brother Abe’s in the middle of it right now… During some lessons I taught at the schoolhouse, right before we left the Dale, I remember he tried reading a passage out of our constitution; he croaked like a frog. He was so embarrassed when some fillies giggled at him. Giving Orni just a little crack in her voice would make it much more convincing.”

Delia was struggling with the buttons on the back of her uniform, which Dechaa kindly went to assist her with; the maid mused, “Convincing is good… Is it doable?”

Zyra smirked, “I can’t do it… but Dechaa can!”

All eyes turned to Dechaa, now fumbling with Delia’s buttons; she noticed and was shocked, “What? Why are you looking at me?!”

“Weren’t you listening?” Zyra’s smile widened. “We need to change Orni’s voice.”

The healer looked at Zyra with less than a lot of love.

“No…” Dechaa deadpanned, going back to Delia’s uniform.

“C’mon! You were able to help your big brother that one time when he asked that filly he liked to the ball!”

“Zyra, that was to help him…” Dechaa explained. “It was just a tonic to even out his voice, so it wouldn’t crack like corn when he talked to her. I’m not going to cook something up to irritate her throat! What’s wrong with you?!”

Orni was glad to have Dechaa in her corner; she was loathe to admit something that suddenly popped into her mind, “Yeah… and as much as I hate thinking about it… This mayor is supposed to like… little colts. A cracking voice might put him off…”

Zyra chuckled at this, smiling at Orni, “I don’t know about you, but I love hearing a colt’s voice crack! It’s so cute…”

“Fuck you,” Orni replied; her language hadn’t been the cleanest since their servitude began.

Not put off by Orni’s simple retort, Zyra laughed. The other members of the company didn’t always get Zyra, even after as long as a couple of them knew her.

“Who knows? It might give him a jump, thinking it’s his last chance with this one!” Delia sniggered nastily.

Six jaws dropped at this foul statement; Delia had a filthy mind, they were learning.

Dechaa pulled the strings on the uniform tight, silencing Delia’s laughter, “Oh, ish…!”

The girls found Dechaa halting Delia’s merriment funnier than the sick joke. They laughed at her plight as she wound up dancing on her back legs, gasping for air. As she managed to loosen the uniform they saw it wasn’t just any waitress uniform; it was that of a cocktail waitress… and she wore it well. Her pastel purple coat was complemented nicely with the green dress.

“Wow…” Wilka gawked. “You’re gorgeous!”

The rest concurred; she was just as pretty as Dechaa on a good day. She had a litheness about her from her years of laboring. But the maid was set on working, not receiving complements.

Delia set about straightening her straw-colored rat’s nest of a mane, “Whatever… Back to business… Now, Orni’s voice is fine for this. Just don’t squeal like a filly getting ice-water poured down her back and we should be fine. I’m nearly ready; somepony call in Clovis."

With that, final preparations were to be made for the ball.

Author's Note

Check out the Appendix for Princess Essenta, updated as the story moves along. It shows the story's timeline and character designs. Contains spoilers.

With final preparations underway the princess and her friends will join Clovis and Delia at the Mayoral Ball to fulfill their more than questionable task of finding out what kind of skeletons the new mayor of "Last Chance" City has hiding in his closet.

Apologies for the long wait for a new chapter. Taking a whole week off to go drink beer and paddle a canoe really threw off my schoolwork and the two jobs I keep. But I hope to crank out a chapter every week or two. Beet harvest may throw another wrench in my rewriting/editing process but I hope to reestablish an actual schedule.

If you enjoy Princess Essenta, please take a look at Larkspur Blossom. A story of a colt finding his worth and making a better life for himself.

Also look for The Virgin Company. A tale of a military pony and his platoon in a war centuries ago.

Like, follow, or leave a comment if you please. It's been fun writing and I'm glad some enjoy it.

Thanks for reading, and take care.

Chapter 30: ...The Mayoral Ball

"Last Chance" Stopover Arc

Clovis had the staff of the mansion lined up before him in the main hallway as he strode down their formation, “Okay… Everypony is clear on tonight? You’re to go about your business as usual. Delia’s working the ball with me and some of my crew tonight, so she won’t be back until late. Our six visitors will be working the ball too. Anything Master Melchior wants… don’t dither. His business situation has him on pins-and-needles so just do your jobs and things will be fine. Understood?”

The staff knew what a crock of shit this was… “working the ball”, "visitors", “business situation”, “pins-and-needles”… Not a one of them was under any delusion as to what was going on.

The eight ponies were infiltrating the ball and had been scheming the last couple days.

The mares visiting were best described as prisoners with a long leash... aside from the tall one that executed the rainbow yawn on Melchior's "erstwhile" son's card game; she was locked up under Clovis's care. The staff that met her rather liked the young Mazan.

Melchior had a keen interest in “changing the mayor’s mind on some policies” or “making him go away” by means unknown to them. The mayor had promised “an easier time for businesses” and Melchior- mostly keeping his nose clean in his more public endeavors- tired of his more interesting endeavors being looked into as existing… though these were among the world’s worst-kept secrets.

Their master had been in a killing-mood for longer than they cared to remember… and nopony wanted to wind up like Pallo, with their reproductive glands bouncing on the dining room table… or die in some archaic fashion.

“Yes, Mr. Clovis!” the staff answered as one.

“And try to keep Master Melchior here. He isn’t on the guest list but may have an interest in party-crashing if he drinks too much. The main crew is all here tonight and a few of my guys are too so look to them if the master gets a little out of hoof.”

The shit overflowed from the crock… “party-crashing”, “out of hoof”… They were up to their ears in shit.

They knew much of the success of whatever Clovis was running relied on Melchior staying quiet and out of the way. There was a reason Clovis ran most of the show, especially in public. Melchior knew all this as well but he might allow a little liquor to persuade him otherwise.

And even the toughest ponies on the crew were terrified of the boss; not a one of them would stand in Melchior’s way if he really had it in his mind to leave the mansion. That’s where the “try” part came into play.

“Yes, Mr. Clovis!” the staff repeated.

Clovis knew what farce this was as they did but pleading obliviousness helped make the life they wound up in- however so- more bearable; he forced a smile, “Go about your tasks, everypony.”

The unicorn watched the staff file out to get on with their work. He had a few minutes before he had to meet the six mares plus Delia for the maneuver, so he chose to meet with the little company’s actual seventh mare.

Clovis walked into the little holding room; he’d dismissed the normal guard and had two of his own crew keeping an eye on Ama and seeing she had all she needed.

“Gimme a few minutes with Ama, fellas,” Clovis eyed his friends. “Go get yourselves some air or something.”

“Will do,” one of them answered.

With the two gone Clovis approached the cell, “Doing okay, Ama?”

The tall mare was lounging on her cot, munching on a pear; she sat up, “I am fine, Clovis, thank you. Your friends brought me a most pleasant dinner and some very nice fruit. Also, chatting with them has been enjoyable; Salvo is a most amusing fellow. Alfwin has been better than he was at first, but all he wants to do is play cards with himself…”

Clovis forced a smile, stiffly easing himself down in front of the bars; he still hurt from Essenta putting him through the mill, “Oh, yes… Salvo was always the funniest of the bunch. If it wasn’t for his good humor I doubt we’d be able to keep the worst of this place at bay. Helps keep things in perspective.”

Ama both understood and didn’t understand, “Perspective, Clovis?”

Clovis hoofed her some of Melchior’s favored molasses cookies through the bars, another treat to which Ama had become partial, “Might be the wrong word… It… His humor allowed us to never forget the good things; it really helped with that.”

She nodded slowly, enjoying the chewy dessert, “I think I can relate. But it was not always good humor that saw us through the things we have encountered.”

Clovis looked at her oddly, “Nor us… But I don’t get it… You’re in a cell, your friends are going along with me on some ridiculous mission, the most dangerous stallion in the south is holding your life above our heads, and you said something about this just being a bump in the road for all of you… You speak as if this is nothing. And you still won’t tell me what it is you’ve seen on the other side of the mountains.”

Taking a moment, she soon answered, “We have been through many things on our journey, Clovis. You know the story as well as anypony, though better with your connections. This journey is farcical… It began as this outrageous thing with the princess meant to retrieve some relic, though the king of the Dale never expected anything to come of it. I believe in our hearts not a one of us cares much about some artifact in a plague-ridden place at the end of our journey… or that we may even reach it. Zyra even joked about the matter and I did not understand the humor at first. Are we even going to enter Salvatrix? I am unsure.

“Something… obliged us to follow Essenta. It is something I have not seen in some time but whenever she said she would ‘turn the world upside down’ or ‘gain fame nopony could take away’ something deep inside told me to continue going along with her; something told me she could do it. Whether it was charisma or some impulse each of us were compelled to follow her. I… want to see where it leads; I need to see. And I readily admit I do not understand it.”

Clovis looked at her oddly, “Okay… so the princess has some supernatural magnetism. I can see that… even with her temper… Still, that doesn’t explain why you’re cool as a cucumber about all this.”

Ama swallowed a mouthful of cookie; she asked without preamble, “Clovis… Do you believe in God?”

He did a take, “Where did that come from?”

She was unmoved by his puzzlement, uncharacteristically tonguing the molasses sticking to her teeth, “Do you believe in God? Heaven? …Hell?”

Watching her start on another cookie he sighed, “I don’t know, Ama… My dad… was a preacher; he was a real Hellfire and damnation type… and about the least magical unicorn you could imagine. The first thing I remember is him lecturing me about all that. But losing him… Mom… my little sister… my town… some of my friends… things like God and Heaven seem pretty far away. Hell? Dunno… All I know is the world seems a lot less miraculous when you’re magical… Kinda hard to justify it all.”

Ama sighed, “I do not know myself. I have seen nothing to convince me one way or the other as far as God or Heaven, but I am sure of one thing: Hell exists. If it is some otherworldly thing, that is yet to be seen, but it is real. It exists right here, on Earth… The things we do to one another… that is Hell enough.”

Clovis nodded solemnly; then he became direct, “I think I can see that… What’s this got to do with this unshakable faith you seem to have?”

Taking a few seconds to determine her words, Ama had plenty to tell him, “Before beginning my birth journey -even a year into it- I never spilled another’s blood. That changed the day I met Essenta. With that sword none of you could heft I killed seven bandits… and three others by various means, without suffering injury. And I am nothing when compared to Loress. Would you believe that Dechaa beat her in a match?"

Clovis couldn't believe it, "That fussy pharmacist beat a Terran...?!"

Ama smirked, fondly recalling the destruction Loress unleashed upon the landscape surrounding the gatehouse at the bridge, "Dechaa was... clever; it was enough to see her to victory... that, and the fact it was more friendly than anything. Had I not seen it with my own eyes I would have difficulty accepting it as fact. I am nothing special compared to Wilka or Orni. And Zyra… navigated Hell itself; I watched it… I bore witness to the whole miserable episode. She made it through Hell and came away with a power no mortal should ever possess.

“With Essenta leading us… this time is almost insignificant. I have not personally fought Essenta seriously but she was an even match for both Wilka and Orni; that is not something I can claim for myself and both matches were a great thing to behold. Truly, those matches were brutal... My physical strength would certainly trump Essenta's but her spirit is what got her through; I would never underestimate her, witnessing the things I have seen."

Clovis was already afraid of the princess; this didn't help, "I see..."

The tall mare went on, "We have fought and killed assassins… survived poisoning... met a stallion that took into himself some great darkness… I have seen Hell, Clovis; it is real, and Zyra was not the only one of them to endure its fire…”

Clovis was daunted by all this, especially confused that Ama had “watched” Zyra’s ordeal, “Have you… been there yourself?”

“No, Clovis,” Ama considered him, “I… have been most fortunate in life. A filly could not ask for better than that which I had.”

He quickly shuffled the company around in his mind. “Not the only one of them to endure its fire”? To which of them was Ama referring? Not herself, given her words. Was it Dechaa? Loress? Wilka? Orni? Who…?

Clovis decided not to ask any further on the subject; he was convinced. He was convinced the princess and her friends were no ordinary mares. He was sure they could tear the place apart and fuck off at any time; going through the motions of his stupid task was just… easier.

But he did have a question, “So… what’s the point of this journey?”

Ama smiled deeply, “I do not know… but I look forward to continuing… once this is done with. Essenta is looking for something nopony can give her… and I want to see what it is.”

Clovis was bemused, “…”

Ama allowed a little smirk at his muddled expression, “I think it is time you got moving, Clovis. Please take care of my friends.”

As if waking from a doze, he blinked and shook his head a little, “Oh… yes. I’ll try.”

“I know you will. And I will miss your hospitality, but not that much,” Ama giggled as she went back to her bunk.

Her giggle- a sound unexpected of her- hit him like a snootful of ammonia. Wowza! It took a few seconds to find his hooves. She missed her flooring him with her back to him.

Regardless Clovis wouldn’t let the dialogue end there; he wasn’t so very sure of himself lately, “The princess and the girls seem pretty put off by all this; they’re putting on a lot of bluster, but I know it when I see it. They’re scared… and I don’t know how to convince them to be otherwise.”

Ama flopped onto the bunk, simpering, “Just remind them they have been through quite a bit before this. You knew that even before I told you…”

Still not feeling all that bold Clovis left Ama to her own devices, hoping nothing bad would happen to her while he was away. His own crew he trusted; those more faithful- or rather, those especially terrified of him- to Melchior… he was less sure of.

Clovis stood before the six mares with Delia at his side, “Okay… this is it. We’ll be taking three carriages. The princess and Loress go with me on the first, Dechaa and Orni go on the second, and Wilka, Zyra, and Delia go on the third. Delia, you’ll be ‘stowing away’ out of sight; don’t get your outfit dirty and slip out shy of the mansion. You know what to do once you’re there.”

Delia gazed back to him, looking stunning as a cocktail waitress, “Of course… It’s not my first time doing this kind of thing…”

Clovis turned to Loress, “Now… what’s your story?”

Loress put on the air of a Terrow belle; it didn’t seem at all foreign to her, “I am Miss Resso, the eldest daughter of the Strawhouse family. Our business is on the rise and we mostly deal in small grains…”

Loress’s real last name was Claystable; it was universally held for Terrans- keeping with their ancestry- to hold family names that combined some building material and some structure. With names such as “Mudhut”, “Pineshed”, “Oakhovel”, and others, “Strawhouse” was a very believable name.

She pointed to Essenta, taking on an even more pretentious manner, “This is my lowly mareservent, Sen. Please ignore her sour expression; the stick up her butt is such a length it tickles her brain.”

Essenta grumbled, “Suck my twat, Miss.”

“Oh, you’ve sullied my ears! Apologize for your insolence!” Loress put a hoof to her brow, looking scandalized.

Essenta couldn’t hold back her laughter anymore and allowed a little, “Fine… I’m sorry I proposed you ought to part my curtains…”

At this, the rest of the girls- apart from Dechaa- guffawed; the anxious unicorn’s sense of humor, now that she was faced with the actual task given them, had died a death worthy of Pallo’s sweetmeats.

Clovis shook his head at the silliness, “Princess, you give Delia’s foul mouth a run for its money…”

“Piss up a rope, Clovis,” Delia scratched herself in a way most unladylike.

Not heeding her call to vertical urination, Clovis turned to Orni and Dechaa, “And?”

Blushing and looking like the 12-year-old colt she was meant to be, she muttered, “I’m Nior, a son of the Goldbrick family… We hit it big out west some years ago.”

Dechaa didn’t look at all happy to be part of this, “I’m Ren. I watch over Nior.”

Clovis nodded, “And finally… Zyra and Wilka.”

Wilka, possibly enjoying this more than most would, did a curtsy, “I’m Willi from out east! Everypony has to do exactly as I say!”

Nopony was keen on doing that, but Wilka had certainly been cultivating her spoiled brat persona.

Zyra came in, looking dandy in her tunic, “And I’m Aryz, Willi’s constant companion and traveling guardian! It takes a lot to keep this little lady amused. I can do tricks! And pull candy from all sorts of places!”

She demonstrated her talents by goosing Loress- causing the Terran to squee and just about jump out of her skin- and coming out from under the ruffled gown with licorice sticks, which she magicked to everypony.

Clovis was unsure about the offered treat and put it aside for later, probably not, “Okay… Everypony just follow the plan. We’ll be in constant communication and with Delia scoping the place out, we'll likely have an easy time with this… I just hope we can find something.”

Wilka raised a hoof, “Uh… Clovis?”

He looked towards her, “Yes, Wilka?”

She looked uncomfortable, shuffling her hooves, “Just why does Melchior think we’ll find anything?”

The girls had wondered this, but most were content to not think about it; they knew it probably wasn’t anything pleasant… Hell, they were confident it was something awful.

“Well,” Clovis hoofed the back of his still-bruised neck, not looking happy about telling them. “The mayor used to be a teacher at the all-colts’ school in town… Pallo was enrolled at the time. There was an incident four years ago… where all the colts drank punch at a party the mayor put on and they… couldn’t remember the afternoon.”

This was probably enough information but nopony shut Clovis up, leading to him finishing his story. Delia looked sourer than she had when Clovis had informed her of her involvement with the mission and the other girls didn’t like where this was headed.

Clovis worked his jaw before going on, “The only thing Pallo remembered was somepony screaming ‘hide the teacup, hide the teacup’ over and over again and that his ass really hurt the next day…”

Most jaws dropped (Orni’s the furthest), besides Zyra’s and Delia’s. Zyra, her eyes darting about, gave an uncomfortable guffaw that soon petered out like a stallion’s dick in a cold-water spring.

The maid grimaced, “Yup… and that shit’s nothing… There are things that go on in this town would shake you so badly you wouldn’t know whether to shit or go blind…”

“Jesus Christ on a surfboard! Let’s get the fuck outta here!” Essenta tried to bolt, stopped by Loress hoofing her wimple.

“Who?” Loress cocked her head, wondering who this fellow might be. “And what in the world is a surfboard…?”

Nopony knew. The princess worked in profanity the way other ponies work in oils or clay.

But they did know Essenta wasn’t putting on some charade; she’d simply reached her breaking point, determining it was best to not be involved with such things. She believed Delia’s words. If introducing dishware to a 12-year-old colt’s rectum and then gelding him when he was 16 were “normal” then she wasn’t keen on knowing what passed for “messed-up” in “Last Chance” City…

Delia actually laughed, tickled by the collective shock seen in the company, “No dice, Essenta. We’re committed.”

Orni blanched, not reveling in any of it, “You gotta be shittin’ me…”

The others were in the same territory but were still sold on the idea this would be easier than fighting their way out of the city.

Loress still held the princess fast, “Okay, Clovis… I guess we’re ready…”

Essenta spouted, “Fuck this!! I saw where they hid our gear! Let’s scram!”

None of the girls were laughing; the princess’s notion was not cast aside lightly…

Clovis took all this in… It was rather difficult to believe these mares were as tough as Ama boasted. He didn’t even have it in him to remind them of how dangerous this dynamic group of mares was supposed to be.

Essenta leaned bitterly out a window on the carriage as it bounced along. A couple of Clovis’s trusted crew were supplying the horsepower. She thought of the fact ponies pulled around other ponies, having never made sense of it ever since she was a little filly. Every jostle of the carriage brought them closer to the mayor’s estate.

Clovis noted the princess, fully recognizing her unhappiness; he'd changed into a suit with a high collar, covering his injured neck, “Try to be a little more civil, Princess… The kind of folks show up at this shindig aren’t all that sharp but there’s no reason to give them a reason to think you’re anything other than a maidservant.”

She glared at him, “A slave, you mean…”

Clovis’s eyes cast over to Loress; her uncomfortable shrug and lack of eye-contact showed she had no defense of Essenta’s statement.

His eyes returned to the princess, wanting the night to finish up as much as she did, “Yes, Princess… You’re meant to be a slave, so behave yourself. And don’t give me that look. The world isn’t all on par with your precious breadbasket, the Dale. Indentured servitude exists here and Terrow still practices slavery, among many others. The Terrans make their own laws, Essenta… Save your crusading for them if your adventures take you there.”

She regarded him as she would an oozing scab on her lady-parts, “I promise you, Clovis… If things go south, nothing on Earth is keeping us from leaving. I’d keep out of the way, if I were you… Your crew would be wise to do the same."

Her expression had his balls hiding up near his bladder.

Loress, sitting beside Essenta, eased her way to the middle of the carriage, “Okay… that’s enough.”

Her friend’s anxious look did little to sway Essenta’s manner. The princess’s scowl had some clout, to be certain.

Loress tried a different approach, “Essenta.”

The princess’s ears perked up at hearing her name from Loress; what followed was always something worth hearing. This notion wasn’t lost of Clovis, either; he’d been around the girls enough to notice at least a hoofful of things.

“I’m… sorry, Essenta… For making light of your donning the guise of a… slave. We all laughed about it but… it’s wrong. You’re a princess. You don’t always act like one, but it’s something to never forget. But I do forget it. I know things are very different in your part of the world… and I need to remember that. But you need to remember most of the world’s a messed-up place; it’s the cold, hard truth. You’ve already seen plenty of it… alongside all of us.”

This at least appeased Essenta’s tang. Having gladly worked together with ponies of all backgrounds her whole life she had never given a rat’s ass about servitude or slavery; it didn’t occur to her. But seeing and hearing what she had in the last few days… It really began to sting. Clovis admired Loress’s ability to talk ponies down; it was obvious why she was “advisor” for the princess. Ama was definitely something but her lack of knowledge of many things on the continent likely kept her out of the number two spot.

Essenta sighed, “I’m… sorry, too.”

It was obvious she was; sometimes a whole monologue wasn’t necessary to apologize.

But Essenta twiddled her hooves, “Clovis…?”

His balls had just about descended but her asking his name had them halt abruptly; he wasn’t afraid to admit to himself he was scared of her, “Yes, Princess?”

Recognizing his uneasiness, she blushed… and felt very stupid, “Please just call me Essenta. I… really owe you an apology. What I did to you… I can’t just ask for your forgiveness. So, I’ll really try to help this succeed. I know you’re not a bad stallion. You follow one, but I can see you’re the one that keeps him under control. Your friends seem like they’d do anything for you; fear doesn’t merit that kind of loyalty. I don’t know what Melchior plans to do or what we’ll find… but I’m trusting you to help see my girls through this…”

Loress was occasionally wowed by Essenta- not as often as she’d like- but this definitely impressed her. Clovis felt the same.

“Thank you, Essenta… That means an awful lot,” he managed to say. “I’ll try.”

It took a moment but Essenta warmed up. Loress decided to sit back and watch.

“Clovis?” the princess murmured.

No longer feeling the sensation of hurty-balls, he felt better, “Yes, Essenta?”

“You’ve known Delia for a decade, right? Are you… just friends?”

Loress didn’t expect this but would enjoy the show.

Clovis looked bemused; he didn’t blush or fluster but smiled as he shook his head, “I’d say we’re… ‘frienemies’… You could say we have a longstanding love-hate thing going on.”

“Oh?” Essenta’s eyes lit up.

Clovis chuckled at Essenta’s demeanor, “Yes… We showed up in town around the same time. My friends and I ran food and goods deliveries for Melchior and cleaned his restaurants. Delia… Has Delia said much about herself?”

Essenta realized he wouldn’t know; he hadn’t been privy to everything said amongst the girls, “Yes… She told us about her father and her servitude… and about her father dying laughing.”

Clovis snorked a little, “Oh, yes… That was… a bittersweet day. It was great seeing Delia and her dad getting along, despite his stupid shit landed them here. What a way to go…”

Essenta remembered Delia’s words, “And Delia will be free in two years?”

Clovis leaned back, “She gets a tiny stipend for what the maid job and room and board don’t cover. You see, the thing with Delia… she’s smart. Her dad’s tricks? She knows all of them. Hell, she’s improved upon them. She knows better than to tangle with those running the games in the city. And if she didn’t bring it up herself she doesn’t drink; she’s a teetotaler… doesn’t touch anything. She’s just biding her time. And she will be free in a couple years. As I said she’s smart. She won’t find herself in debt like that which her dad pinned on her. Not to mention her skills... This isn't the first time she's been called on to perform such a task; the fact she's available for this kind of stuff knocked a whole decade off what her servitude called for.”

“That’s... good to hear,” Essenta said, forcing the words..

She wasn't entirely sure it was; Delia wasn't just some clever maid, she'd realized...

“Mel might even try to keep her on with a proper job; she does rather well with everything, but I doubt she’ll stick around.”

“Would you?” Essenta cocked her head.

The question caught him a little off-guard, “Would I what?”

She leaned forward, “Clovis… you practically run commerce in town. What is it, 50% of the city’s goods? I don’t know what’s legit and what’s not but I’m sure you keep your nose clean enough. Why stay and work for Melchior?! You have a crew that all but worships you! You could leave this fucking place and go do something good!”

He sat a moment. Loress had remained silent and had little to say; she still listened.

“Leave the city…” Clovis put his chin on his hooves. “Essenta… I led my friends here when we were seven, eight, nine-years old… I’d… tell you the story but I already told Ama; it’s not something I want to drop again, not now… When we got to town… Mel wasn’t as bad as you know him to be, at least on the surface. I… still don’t know about half the stuff he gets up to… and I try not to think about it.

“But I do know he’s not the simple merchant he was 20 years ago; something changed in him. And it’s taken a lot to keep him in check. I don’t know how many tried to keep a lid on the legit operations before me, but I’ve been running the show since I was 15-years-old.”

Essenta was shocked, “You were in charge of half the city’s commerce when you were 15?!”

He couldn’t suppress a grin, “I told you… I get results.”

It was a simple answer but one Essenta could take.

But still, “Why, though? Why work for him?”

He didn’t hesitate, “I’m under no delusion that I owe Mel anything. We’ve more than payed for his giving us some menial jobs as colts so we wouldn’t starve. My friends vowed to follow me- it’s not something I’m holding them too; they did it on their own. And me…? Imagine for a moment that somepony wasn’t holding Mel’s leash.”

Essenta and Loress could imagine this; it wasn’t pretty. They were a little reluctant to feel it but Clovis was actually… noble, in his way.

“What a burden that must be,” Loress finally spoke, staring out the open window.

Clovis nodded, “I’m so sorry for all this, girls… I got cocky… I thought I had a handle on things. But I’m still just a stupid kid.”

Essenta and Loress wouldn’t argue this point; Essenta giggled, “You’re a stallion, Clovis… You’re 18-years-old, right?”

Clovis let out a bark of laughter, “I suppose.”

The girls joined him in a brief laugh. The mayor’s mansion was minutes away.

While the other pairs would just trickle in, their names conveniently on the guest list, Clovis would be bringing Loress and Essenta- Resso and Sen- to the ball as his guests. Well, Loress was his guest; Essenta was her servant. Being who he was Clovis’s arrival was announced.

While the “normal guests” filtered in, a unicorn announced, “Now presenting Mr. Clovis and his companion, Miss Resso Strawhouse!”

Clovis walked in, Loress’s front leg entwined with his; Loress made sure to smile and Essenta just followed calmly. About 10 ponies, obviously well-to-do, immediately came up to kiss his ass. It was apparent they all had stock in Clovis’s goods distribution.

A Pegasus stallion draped in gold chains jostled Clovis with a smile that at least looked genuine, “Good evening, young fella! How are ya?!”

Clovis shook hooves, “Good evening, Jaska. I’m fine… and you’re looking well-fed these days.”

Jaska laughed; he wasn’t a lard-ass by any means but obviously fed on a rich diet, “My chef’s been working on improving his sauces… How’s the hydroponics operation going?”

“Oh, like clockwork… A batch of tomatoes should be ready for your distribution by next Monday. It’s great! With the rotation we set up we can put out a harvest every five days.”

Jaska grinned, “Melchior sure knew what he was doing when he let you take over his affairs. Can’t imagine we’ll be seeing him tonight.”

Clovis shook his head, “After last time? No way…”

The Pegasus turned his attention elsewhere… to the Terran mare, “My word! I heard Clovis’s guest tonight was a mare of Terrow, but wowza! You, my dear, must be about the prettiest little thing I’ve ever encountered. And that gown is to die for!”

Essenta could easily see the eyes drawn to Loress; she was stunningly beautiful in the gown she wore, almost transcending words. The princess didn't think it was possible for the Terran to look any better than she already did. She expected many a stallion would be begging the belle for a dance. And this was fine, her serving as a beacon. As the planning unfolded, it was clear Essenta and Loress weren’t simply “directing the operation” alongside Clovis; they were the distraction.

Loress knew how beautiful she was but was always genuinely pleased to hear it; she flushed a little, “Oh, thank you, Mr. Jaska. I love this gown! Mr. Clovis had a few of his mares pick it out and help me with it. It surely beats the tunic I came here in…”

Jaska took her offered hoof and kissed it, “Well, it’s a pleasure to meet you, Miss Strawhouse! I would love to have a dance with you, later.”

Decorum called for Loress to stay beside Clovis a time; she wasn’t supposed to be his date, just his guest. But once things got into full swing Essenta imagined about 80% of the stallion partygoers would be fawning after Loress… A lot of mares wouldn’t be able to turn away, either; the envy in their faces was palpable.

Loress giggled at him, “Oh, I’d be delighted, sir… but you’d better be quick about asking. I expect there to be a line…”

Both Essenta and Clovis were impressed with Loress’s manner: she exuded just enough sass to balance out her politeness; she was positively charming.

“Oh, you are a peach, Miss Strawhouse!” Jaska gushed. “I’d be honored to have a dance with you once Clovis has.”

Jaska wasn’t the only stallion drooling after Loress; Essenta saw no less than 30 sets of eyes cast her way.

Clovis grinned at the Pegasus, “Hell, Jaska, you can have the first dance. Once dinner’s over I have a matter to tend to, so I’ll be in and out the whole night.”

“Why, that’d be dandy,” Jaska beamed and then turned to Loress. “Miss, it’s been a delight meeting you; I’ll see you in a while.”

Loress curtsied, “Likewise, Mr. Jaska.”

Jaska walked off to other relationships but not before giving a discreet yet polite nod Essenta’s way. Essenta could see the pity in his eyes; he knew what she was- or rather, what she was supposed to be.

Essenta followed closely behind Loress and Clovis. She herself would stay near Loress, serving her and whomever was attempting to entertain her. Knowing she wouldn’t give into temptation and drink she still envied Loress as she saw that her “master” was hoofed fine liquor worth a gold coin per glass. Watching Loress sip primly, still hanging on Clovis, the princess kept an eye out for their friends.

Author's Note

Check out the Appendix for Princess Essenta, updated as the story moves along. It shows the story's timeline and character designs. Contains spoilers.

Having arrived at the mayoral ball, Essenta and Loress will watch whatever unfolds from the relative comfort of the ballroom. The other girls... have more interesting times awaiting them.

I know the princess taking the Lord's name in vain was a bad idea but I couldn't come up with another exclamation to express her level of "do not want".

If you enjoy Princess Essenta, please take a look at Larkspur Blossom. A story of a colt finding his worth and making a better life for himself.

Also look for The Virgin Company. A tale of a military pony and his platoon in a war centuries ago.

Like, follow, or leave a comment if you please. It's been fun writing and I'm glad some enjoy it.

Thanks for reading, and take care.

Chapter 31: Chronophilia Substantiation

"Last Chance" Stopover Arc

Dechaa and Orni, in the second carriage, rode alone, other than Clovis’s crew pulling them. It didn’t make a whole lot of sense to them to put the two most “nervous” mares as a pair, but they were the “bait”; they were supposed to be reserved.

Dechaa rumbled, “What a mess we’ve found ourselves in this time…”

Orni’s silence didn’t indicate a lack of response; Dechaa knew she was almost sick with apprehension. Clovis’s story about Pallo’s sore ass and the fabled teacup had effectively knocked any confidence she’d begun to feel. The healer wasn’t much better off.

Their mission that night was simple: once introduced to the mayor (Clovis’s responsibility) they were to keep him entertained… and away from his office, study, purported "friendship" dungeon, and indeed any part of his private residence. This would open the door, quite literally, for-

“Zyra, Wilka…” Delia sat across from the two mares in the final carriage. “My drop-off point is about a mile ahead of us. Is there anything else you need to know? We’ll likely be in contact several moments after your arrival but there’s still plenty to worry about…”

Just a few hours earlier, the two mares from Essenta’s company wouldn’t have believed Delia the maid was Clovis’s go-to covert insurgent. They thought she was… just a normal maid and given her obvious dread of Melchior, it was even more surprising to learn of her skill-set. Still, they were all a little scared of Melchior.

Zyra decided to be a smartass; it was a go-to coping mechanism for dealing with some of her fears, “How do you plan to blend in when you’re dressed like that, Delia?”

Delia, as one might remember, was wearing a cocktail dress that, when combined with her near-Loress level of attractiveness, could fog up the windows and mirrors within half-a-mile of her.

The maid could tell Zyra wasn’t as confident as she’d seemed earlier; Wilka was even worse. It went through her mind Essenta and Loress should’ve taken the “less public” part of the assignment; their nerve was a bit more solid. And if Ama, whom she very much wanted to meet close-up after hearing all the interesting things about her, wasn’t locked up in a cell she might’ve been a good option for their endeavor if only for her normally cool head. But wings and magic were needed for this, so there wasn't much choice.

Deciding to ease Zyra’s concerns, Delia tried to play it cool, “This shindig will be unlike anything you’ve ever seen, Zyra… All the mares serving at the ball will look like me… or ‘worse’. I don’t think words can prepare you for the extravagance. You’ve seen the city lights… some of the more colorful ponies in town… It’s a carnival. The amount of alcohol- and other things- flowing through the place is difficult to comprehend.

“All of us- with the almost certain exception of Loress- will be about as noticeable as a rock on the side of the road. Just be polite, pretend to drink- don’t actually drink- anything alcoholic hoofed to you, enjoy the food, and pay attention… Clovis and I will be in contact almost constantly. We’ve done this more times than I care to remember, and I anticipate we’ll find rather quickly the things we’re looking for. Everypony has and knows their task; we should have things under control.”

Zyra felt a little better, “I understand, Delia.”

Subdued, but relaxed, it was easy to see Zyra had calmed. Delia was more concerned about Wilka; she’d looked positively aghast, learning of the mayor’s probable- and very credible- propensities… even if it was for colts and not fillies.

Delia considered the tiny Pegasus and reached across, patting her hoof. She could tell her friends- besides Orni, her very best friend and obvious confidant- failed to recognize there was something very painful haunting the petite mare. It was something she hid very well but Delia ascertained it easily enough; she’d had more than a taste of it, herself.

“Wilka…” Delia made soft eye-contact with her. “I know a week ago you’d never have imagined finding yourself in such a place.”

Delia wanted to add the word “again” but elected not to; Zyra seemed totally ignorant to Wilka’s plight, after all… and perhaps it was best she didn’t know.

“One way or another, Clovis and I will help you all through this. We will do everything we can to make sure this goes smoothly, and we will do our damnedest to see you, Ama, and the rest of your friends safely on your way. You may not think all that highly of Clovis but he’s really an extraordinary fellow when he needs to be. That, and I know the lot of you could tear out of here like a fart in the wind and nopony would have an easy time stopping you. Have faith in yourself and let’s get this over with.”

This actually brought tears to Wilka’s eyes; she knew Delia understood her… and her circumstances…

Briefly fretting over Wilka’s running makeup, Delia went for her face with a hoofkerchief before giving up, “Oh, don’t cry, Wilka… Let me… Oh… Zyra, could you please clean up her face a little?”

Once Wilka calmed a little Zyra did so, very glad to have a mare like Delia at the moment; she had some things in common with Wilka but this was strange ground.

As Wilka’s sniffles subsided Delia gently hoofed her shoulder, “Will you be alright?”

The pretty pink pony, knowing the kind eyes staring back to her, marshaled a genuine smile, “I gotcha, Delia… I’ll be okay… We’ll be alright.”

“Good,” Delia mused. “I’m glad you feel that way because it’s time for me to go. See you soon.”

With that, Delia wrapped up in a cloak and bailed out of the transport and into the underbrush just shy of the line of carriages with ponies waiting to disembark for the party.

Wilka suddenly felt a little surer of herself. She was Willi of the affluent Dierdre family in the east, after all! She was the daughter of a rich noble and Zyra was her clownish mareservant! She was special and would make it obvious!

Zyra saw Wilka’s improvement and grinned; she was ready enough, too, she figured.

A unicorn cleared his throat, reading from a scroll, “And now presenting… Young Master Nior, of the Goldbrick family.”

Orni walked as casually as she could manage, Dechaa at her flank. Nopony even appeared to give her a second glance; other than the fact she was a “12-year-old colt” with nopony but her mareservant, “Ren”, to keep an eye on her, there was nothing at all remarkable about her. The two mares could even see real colts, possibly in their early teens, moving about, with and without supervision.

Clovis and Delia had reassured them most ponies wouldn’t give them a second thought and the two mares could buy it. Mares wore gowns that made Loress’s work of art she wore that night look plain. Stallions wore suits costing more gold than the whole company had on them at any point in their journey.

Despite being about as close to nobility as possible in the humbler Dale without being a noble, Dechaa being the daughter of a family having long served the crown, she thought she’d seen just about every extravagance money could buy, or at least that she herself could imagine. She was wrong, clearly.

Melchior’s estate, beautiful but practical as it was, looked like a bare hovel compared to the overindulgence of the ballroom in the mayor’s mansion. It was almost difficult to fathom, even seeing it.

Great white pillars erupted from the marble floor, which stretched quite a distance to a red velvet adorned staircase. The girls knew the mayor’s office and quarters were somewhere up there; Clovis and Delia had told them.

The balconies had swimming pools with clear glass sides and bottoms; ponies could be seen swimming and frolicking. Waterslides led from the balconies to a large crystal pool in the room’s end, which contained a wet-bar with ponies ordering all manner of drink. Whether by magic or mechanics water was pumped back up to the balcony pools and sent right back down the slides.

Sculptures of ice depicted what the “good side” of the city must’ve been like for those able to afford it. A prominent sculpture portrayed a stallion pouring a bottle; indeed, the bottle was issuing forth sparkling wine to the ponies holding their glasses under it.

Numerous mares, almost as beautiful as Delia, paraded around in all manner of lascivious dress, offering the guests refreshments.

The buffet off to one side held just about any treat imaginable.

Chandeliers of crystal lit up the affair, reflecting pretty patterns upon the floor and walls.

Higher yet was a tremendous skylight. Even with the bright lights from below the clarity of the skylight allowed a generous view of the stars; Dechaa suspected this was magically implemented.

And the only reason for the mayoral ball was for these ponies of influence to kiss up, suck off, and rub shoulders with the rich and powerful and whatever else had managed to get in. It was a baaaaaaaaad place…

Dechaa became aware Orni’s jaw was close to hitting the floor, seeing it all; she came up alongside and corrected this, closing Orni’s jaw with a clack, “I think I get how you feel, Orni… It’s pretty amazing.”

Orni shook her head, taking it all in, “This is insane…”

Dechaa exhaled and nodded, “Yes… it is. Let’s get out there."

The princess of the Dale was keeping busy enough. Loress had so many doting on her Essenta was filling glasses with sparkling wine and flagging down waitresses non-stop to keep Loress’s entertainers entertained.

Watching Loress suck down her nineteenth glass of bubbly- to the amazement and amusement of those who’d never seen a Terrans’s tolerance for num-nums- she wondered if Loress’s bladder would pop. It was nuts… The princess knew she herself would’ve have been unconscious a few drinks ago and Loress would merely need to visit the ladies’ room soon.

Essenta was keeping an eye out for Delia; the maid had likely arrived by then. Clovis was nearby, chatting up some merchants. Certainly, she’d spot Dechaa and Orni soon. She knew it’d be a bit before Zyra and Wilka appeared.

With everypony’s thirst and munchies slaked for the moment Essenta relaxed as much as she dared; she’d been so focused on playing a slave she hadn’t bothered taking in the view. Finally taking a little time to look at the incredible place in which she was standing she was floored. She’d thought her mother’s gowns were a waste of money… She could only imagine how many years’ worth of the Dale’s total revenue lay spent around her.

“What a fucking travesty…” she mouthed to herself; this was contemptible…

“Oh, Sen!” Loress called. “Could you please bring me something?”

Those surrounding Loress guffawed and cheered. Essenta could see Jaska among them; he’d really taken a liking to the gorgeous mare.

Forcing a pleasant look, Essenta sprang up, “Yes, Miss, immediately!”

Trotting to the nearest ice sculpture dispensing beverage, she noticed the accompanying glasses to be whiskey as opposed to stemmed crystal. She smiled inwardly, knowing Loress would have to take her time with something harder and that she’d get to watch her wince at the burning. She’d get one for Jaska as well.

As the whiskey came forth into the glasses she noted the aroma.

“Holy fucking horseshit!” she almost cried out.

It was a Fulco vintage… 4766 if she wasn’t mistaken. The sharpness of caramelized oak was unmistakable, the barrels having been made of a different species that year. This was the very same 15-year-old whiskey she and Prince Asklepiades had unceremoniously inhaled the day that had sent many of the events of the past few months in motion.

In addition to the sudden homesickness she immediately felt… she really wanted some. It took a lot of mental gymnastics to keep from taking more than a few drams of the stuff and she went back to Loress before giving into temptation.

As a servant of any kind was supposed to be well-versed in matters of a master’s taste, Essenta presented the whiskey as professionally as she knew how.

Giving a small bow of her head she presented the glass to Loress, “Miss, I hope this is to your liking. You’ve tried whiskey and you hoped to develop a taste for it.”

Loress could see the very tiniest amount of glee in Essenta; the princess knew this would have her squirming, but she’d play along, “Why, thank you, Sen. I’m delighted you’d think of it at such a time.”

Essenta smiled, “I sincerely hope you’ll enjoy it; it’s a Fulco vintage… 4766 if I’m not very much mistaken. Sift it around and take a breath.”

Loress turned the glass in her hoof and took in the aroma; it burned her nostrils, “Whew! That’ll wake you up!”

The stallions surrounding her laughed as if this was the funniest thing ever said.

Essenta went on, “Note the peculiar oakiness; it’s a dead giveaway of the vintage.”

Loress couldn’t tell, but, “Ah… I do detect something different…”

“Due to a shortage that year a less apt oak species was used in the making of the barrels but the results were pleasantly surprising,” Essenta produced a small decanter of spring water. “The whiskey sits at 110 proof… rather strong and carefully managed. For a proper tasting I shall dilute it to a hair over 70 proof.”

Essenta poured in just a little water; she knew all about whiskey-tasting and could do it just about perfectly.

Loress swished the glass again, sniffing, and took a taste; it wasn’t as bad as it might’ve been, “Oh… Oh, my. Most interesting. This really brings out its subtler characters…”

“I’m glad you enjoy, Miss.”

Loress beamed, “You have my thanks.”

Essenta turned to Jaska, the glass and decanter offered to him, “Mr. Jaska, I thought you might enjoy a refreshment as well. Give it a breath and give it a try, if you would. It’s a fine vintage and you’re all most fortunate to have an allotment.”

Jaska’s eyes lit up; the princess could tell he was flattered, “Oh, thank you, Sen, but I don’t drink. I may overeat, stay up at night, and gamble a little, but drink is something I simply don’t indulge in.”

Essenta had heard of such things; she bowed her head, “My apologies, Mr. Jaska… I didn’t know.”

He waved a hoof, “Oh, it’s quite alright. Thanks very much for thinking of me.”

Essenta smiled, “Yessir, thank you.”

A rather drunk stallion came up, “Jaska doesn’t imbibe but I sure do! Give it here, girl.”

Essenta knew she had to be cautious here; she noted the response of the other ponies to this fellow and he was important, “Do get a feel for it before tasting it; it’s quite unique.”

He shook his head, “It’s booze. Give it here.”

The princess felt the air change and a few of the guests looked more off-put.

“At least permit me to prepare it for your palate,” she offered. “Without dilution it’s quite harsh.”

She wasn’t just patronizing him; her words would turn out to be quite true.

He didn’t look pleased, “It’s booze. Hoof it over.”

She hoofed it over and he took a healthy gulp. With a cough he spat it on the floor. Essenta tried hard and managed to not grin at his choking. It was stronger whiskey; what did he expect?

“What is this dreck?!” he bawled; he turned to Essenta. “How dare you?!”

With that he swung the glass, still with most of the whiskey, into the side of Essenta’s head. The princess saw stars and the glass shattered; the blow was hard enough that it sent her to the floor.

Stunned, the princess tasted iron mixed with the whiskey; she saw more than just a little blood seeping from somewhere on her head.

Everypony was so shocked it took them a few seconds to do much. The drunk stallion spat on the princess, laid out on the floor. She didn’t notice as she slipped into unconsciousness.

“You little cunt! Slave!” he insulted.

Had Essenta been on-guard and/or not dazed from the sudden blow she might’ve spun the stallion’s head off his body. But Loress was game; it took all her willpower to not crush the stallion like a bug. She knelt beside Essenta, very worried.

Loress stared at the stallion in near-total disbelief, “How… how could you?!”

Doing a take, the stallion looked from Essenta to Loress; without missing a beat he tossed five gold coins against the prone princess, a hint of a smile gracing his lips, “Whoops.”

Loress’s disbelief was complete; staring at the coins on the floor and then to the stallion, she felt her eyes well up.

Seeing the tears forming in Loress’s eyes the stallion couldn’t believe it, “For a slave?! Tears?!”

He laughed, and his laugh was cut short by Jaska; he slugged the stallion so hard in the stomach he brought up spittle. The ponies not brought back from the shock of seeing the “slave” brained by a tasting glass returned.

Looking down at the gagging stallion, Jaska looked murderous, “Euphor, you fool…”

Nopony could believe this. They knew something Loress and Essenta, naturally, didn’t know; Jaska had just put down a noble.

Euphor couldn’t believe it either; he coughed, totally baffled, “Jaska, you… you struck me!”

“And I’d do it again, you waste of life!”

Euphor’s jaw worked; he was incensed, “Waste of…?”

Just then, security showed up; Loress saw they were Clovis’s. Clovis himself strode up and he couldn’t believe he saw the princess sprawled out on the floor, her head leaking.

“What happened?!” he glared at the party-goers.

Nopony seemed to want to say but Jaska spoke without hesitation, “This stallion struck that mare.”

Pointing at Euphor he could’ve added “without provocation” or “for no good reason”; Euphor had merely struck a slave after all.

Clovis was dismayed to see what had become of Essenta; he decided to deal with it quickly, “Guys… escort Mr. Euphor out of here; don’t let him back in.”

Euphor bristled as a few of Clovis’s crew hauled him away, “Clovis! Jaska! I’m never doing business in this city again…! I’ll ruin you both! You noponies! Scratch that; you’re dead! You fuckers…!”

The shocked crowd could hear Euphor’s voice receding and turned attention to Loress, cradling Essenta’s head, weeping over her friend; it was strange to them to see anypony doting on a servant.

Clovis felt terrible; but he knew things like this happened. The world wasn’t always pretty, and this very situation had never been at the very back of his mind. He groaned.

“Everypony! Go back to the party; I’ll handle this.”

Cradling the princess, he scooped her up and trotted away, leaving Loress.

Loress sat on the floor a moment, stunned, blood covering her gown. There was a smear of blood on the floor where Essenta’s head had struck. She’d never been that close to it… seeing a slave beaten… but she’d seen it from a distance; there were some ugly things about Terrow she often tried to forget.

She saw a hoof come into her view; it was Jaska’s. He looked down to her, the look of greatest compassion on his face. She took the offered hoof and he helped her up; she needed help standing and he grunted through it, Terrans weighing twice as much as an Earth pony of the same size.

Letting the crying Terran lean on him, blood and all, he tried to console her, “Now, now… Let’s look in on Sen.”

“Shee-yit!” Zyra drawled, taking in the ballroom. “And you thought Melchior’s place musta cost a fucking fortune…”

Wilka could do little more than nod, watching ponies swim around above their heads, behind the glass, “I did say that…”

The two of them were barely noticeable amongst the other ponies, some little filly in a frilly gown and her well-dressed attendant.

“I guess we look for Delia or Clovis,” Zyra scanned the crowd. “About all we can do until our time comes is mill around and watch the shitshow…”

The two mares began to meander around; nopony paid them much attention. Their thoughts sat with their task ahead: while Essenta, Loress, and Clovis took care of things in the ballroom, and Orni was hopefully “distracting” the mayor while Dechaa had to watch whatever might happen, the later arrivals would be assisting Delia up in the mayor’s residence, office, and other areas of consequence. Thankfully the maid knew just what to do and- as was stated- knew the place well.

The window for the investigation wasn’t the best. After the dinner began and before the after-dinner fun was in full-swing was their opportunity; the mayor was well-known for excusing himself from his own parties, apparently.

The fact the mayor would only give them 45 minutes to lurk around was the main reason Clovis put Orni in a colt’s outfit. If Orni could catch his interest (heeding that awful tale about the little teacup that could) of the mayor, it might stall him longer.

If things went smoothly they’d find whatever evidence might’ve existed and quietly take it; hopefully it wouldn’t even be noticed for a while. A deviant kept around things pertaining to their sickness; it was predictable. The traveling party could then fuck off to the desert with Ama alongside them and Melchior could blackmail the mayor into resignation.

Zyra and Wilka resigned themselves to relaxed alertness, Wilka sipping on passion fruit punch and Zyra looking like she was supposed to be there. They'd already dropped the clownish unicorn and spoiled Pegasus characters.

“Oh, what the fuck happened, Clovis?!” Delia looked down at Essenta, wimple off and unconscious on a table in a utility room.

The first thing that happened upon her arriving through a side door was one of Clovis’s lackeys telling her to meet his beloved leader. And she had to find this?!

“Hush,” Clovis was sewing up the seam the cocksucker Euphor had opened up on the princess’s head by the glow of his horn. “I need to concentrate…”

Delia winced, “Glad she’s out for that… stitches… Ugh!”

Out of the corner of his eye he saw the maid shudder; he couldn’t blame her, but, “Calm down, Delia…”

She watched in horrified fascination as he finished up.

“Nine stitches…” Clovis shook his head as he snapped the loose threads. “I had to borrow a sewing kit from one of the maids, here; maybe I should carry one.”

Delia finally managed to speak without sounding ill, “So what happened?”

“Just a drunk piece of shit treating a slave like a slave…” he was disgusted with himself, bringing this upon the princess. “A stallion hit her in the side of the head with a half-full whiskey glass he demanded she let him try. He didn’t like it and…”

He motioned to the motionless princess, breathing softly on the table.

“Is she okay… otherwise, I mean?” Delia bit her lip, noting the oozing line just under the princess’s scalp.

Clovis again shook his head, “She has a concussion, so… no, definitely not.”

“Fuck!” she felt awful for the princess, but this was problematic for several reasons. “That puts us down a mare, but- Hey, where’s Loress?”

Clovis straightened his tunic, checking for blood that wasn’t his, “She’s with Jaska, outside; she’s a little shaken up.”

Delia let her irritation get the better of her, “I keep hearing these mares are tough as Hell! What’s with their wimpiness the last couple days?!”

Clovis knew much more than Delia and let her know a little, “I dunno, Delia. It doesn’t make much sense to me, either. I guess… it’s their friendship.”

“What?” Delia cocked her head to one side.

Clovis smiled; Delia had a lot of street smarts but wasn’t always able to see some things… but it was lost on him too, “I dunno. Don’t worry about it.”

“Where are you going?” Delia saw Clovis was hoofing it.

“I need to find the others… let them know what’s up. We’ll have to take turns watching Essenta; I’ll try to pull one of my guys off duty to help us.”

“Just have the Terran do it!” Delia wasn’t pleased about things being thrown off but figured Loress was now deadweight.

Clovis said as he exited the room, “She still has a job to do. We’ll make this work. I’ll be back in a few minutes and you can go finish briefing Zyra and Wilka.”

With that he left Delia with the concussed princess.

Zyra and Wilka were hanging out near the buffet. Knowing they had little to do until one of Melchior’s reluctant minions gave them any information, they contented themselves with sampling a little of everything.

Despite the small attention Wilka had received at first, many stallions came to notice the beautiful little Pegasus and about nine had asked her for a dance, which she politely yet curtly declined; her “date” was the jealous type and would be close by.

Zyra was never overly concerned with her appearance or what stallions thought of her, but she was still a young mare; she got off to the same stuff the rest of the girls did. She’d ranked herself at the bottom of the company as far as looks went and seeing her friends gussied up finally had this bothering her. She wasn’t a shy mare, really, and would love some stallion asking her for a dance (though not at the current time, her being an “attendant”). At balls back in the Dale she often found herself off to the side, the strange mage with the wacky sense of humor and the colt’s haircut…

“You okay, Zyra?”

Zyra jolted a little; Wilka had surprised her and she wasn’t one to startle often.

The little mage blinked; she’d been wandering in thought, “I’m fine, Wilka.”

She wasn’t lying; she just had a lot on her mind much of the time.

Zyra was more concerned with Wilka, “I’m just glad to see you’re better than you were earlier, but this shit is pretty messed up for the lot of us…”

The mage’s thoughts went back to her wallflower status. It frustrated her because she’d thought she was above all that crap but the time on the road with the girls had her seeing things differently. They’d certainly been through a bit.

Wilka’s thoughts remained with their situation… and her own, “I’m glad Delia’s with us… That’s the only reason I’m not so nervous anymore.”

Zyra briefly reflected: the girls knew surprisingly little about each other, some of them. Her own past had just been revealed and only Ama had a real grasp, despite her knowing Essenta and Dechaa since she was a little filly. Ama was some great fighter back home, Loress was a stable maid her own army rejected, Orni was a displaced cripple… But they knew so very little about Wilka, other than Orni… and now Delia, whom they’d known for a couple days, meshed with Wilka as none had, Orni included.

Zyra shook her head, not even noticeable to Wilka; she tried to distract herself from her dateless life and the mysteries permeating their party, “It surprised the Hell outta me she’s some kind of mole. And I can’t tell if she loves that Clovis or hates his guts.”

The mage chuckled at the thought. They had a complicated relationship it seemed; Zyra had noted Delia creaming over him a little before they all met Melchior and it was impossible to miss her verbally accosting him as he fumbled his way through everything after that. It was curious.

Wilka looked unhappy, “They’re both bound to serve Melchior… and they pretty much grew up together. Clovis tries to keep Melchior from burning the world and Delia’s no better off than a slave… but they may as well be siblings. That’s how I see it at least. I think it’s good they have each other; it helps…”

Zyra had never seen Wilka as the contemplative type; there was more going on under that voluminous mane than she’d figured on. She wanted to ask what Wilka meant by “it helps” but something told her to back off.

“I guess,” Zyra offered.

Wilka continued brooding as she stuffed her face with treats of all manner.

Zyra got a kick out of seeing the little Pegasus pile it in, “Not too much now, Wilka… for all we know we’ll need to run out of here screaming with Hell on our asses… 50 miles on a full stomach wasn’t fun, the last time…”

This got a tiny but welcome smile from Wilka, “Try the avocado toast. I can’t get enough of it.”

Both mares giggled, at least feeling a little more relaxed and continued sampling. Zyra had been pissed off about the whole thing, but she tried to focus.

“Ah, girls!”

Zyra’s tolerance of the situation took a nosedive.

The little mage rounded on Clovis, mouth full of fried asparagus, “What is it?”

Wilka looked put off by Zyra’s terse salutation.

Clovis hadn’t been looking forward to telling his infiltration team about the princess and detested it more now; he was displeased Zyra was pigging out when she was supposed to be attending and tried to nail that down, “Hey, act your part, Zyra!”

He hoofed away her plate, containing the best food she’d ever eaten in her life; she eyed him as if he was a wad of dingleberries on Loress’s pretty white ass, “Maybe I shoulda let Cap pull your head off…”

This creeped the crap out of Clovis, but he pushed through, not missing Wilka’s horrified look at Zyra’s half-joke; he gave a ballsier response than was merited, “Your princess won’t be pulling off anypony’s head tonight; she’s out.”

This wasn’t something Zyra wished to hear, “What?”

Wilka shook, her gown bouncing about, hearing that.

Clovis was scared, knowing how powerful Zyra was; he trusted Ama’s talk about Hell and un-Earthly magic, “She… got clocked by some drunk stallion. She’ll be okay, but she has a concussion.”

Zyra looked like she was ready to slit his throat, her horn sparking with great violence, “You asshole.”

Clovis recognized Zyra might’ve had a mind to open him up, “Now’s not the time… And Loress is fine too; I’ll deal with her. It doesn’t change anything as far as the plan goes. If you happen to run into Dechaa and Orni, don’t tell them.”

Zyra prickled, “You…”

Clovis’s balls retreated.

Wilka butted in, “We understand, Clovis.”

He nodded, “Delia will be along in a few minutes to start your part.”

Wilka found herself clinging to Zyra, both for her own comfort and to hold the mage back, “Calm down, Zyra… Essenta’s gonna be okay. Focus…”

There wasn’t much to do about Zyra if she elected to fry Clovis with her magic but Wilka’s words slaked her desire for a time.

Zyra sighed, “Okay… but if much else goes wrong with your plan or it flat-out fails I don’t think you’ll need to worry about whatever that cocksucker Melchior’s gonna do to you anymore…”

Clovis could only nod, his nuts still higher than he enjoyed them being, “I gotcha…”

Zyra took back her snacks, “And be a stallion, ya prick! He’s an Earth pony and you’re a unicorn. I truly don’t get this shit. Go do whatever it is you gotta do…”

The little green mage turned her back to him and dug into a tasty corn salsa.

Clovis pondered a moment; he knew he was a unicorn and Melchior was just an Earth pony… but the girls didn’t know Melchior quite like he did, “Delia will be along…”

Wilka watched him trot off. She knew why ponies were so afraid of Melchior. Fear was fear and she knew it well enough. What she didn’t know was Zyra’s power was so obscene it was almost unimaginable; it gave the little mage a justified confidence that she could deal with most anything in their path, despite so rarely unlocking her potential.

Having lost her appetite, Wilka sat with her flank to the buffet table. She kept an eye out for the maid.

Upon an outside balcony Loress looked out over the “City of Last Chances”. She wanted in her heart to take back anything she’d said about the place being “pretty” or “fun”; it was just bright lights, in the end, covering up the sickness of the place, in and out of dark places.

Her tears had about subsided. Unconcerned with her mascara running onto the ruined, bloody gown she sniffled some.

“Miss Resso…” a voice behind her came.

She turned to face Jaska, “Yes?”

He produced a small bucket of warm water and a clean rag, “Sit down, Miss.”

She sat down across from him at a little table.

“Come closer,” he encouraged.

She realized he was offering to wash her face. In his eyes she saw a gentleness she didn’t often see. Many stallions would do such a thing just to butter her up and get close; he did this because he was kind.

Very gently he began to clean the blood and mascara off her face, “Now, Miss, I’ve spoken with an attendant and a few mares will help you wash and change; I just wanted to make you a little more comfortable.”

She hiccupped, “Thank you, Mr. Jaska…”

The blood and makeup were coming off for him, “I shouldn’t intrude, Miss, but how many are in bondage to your family?”

This question was uncomfortable for her. Her family kept no slaves; they ran a stable and lived modestly but slavery was as common in Terrow as debauchery was in “Last Chance” City.

Being a “Terrow belle”, she lied, “We have five; Sen serves my sisters and I and I took her along for business…”

He said without malice, “I’m not judging you, Miss; it’s the way of the world. And I’m so terribly sorry Sen met such a thing tonight; I know how upset you are…”

Loress couldn’t help herself, “She’s my friend…”

Looking sad he shook his head, “Miss, you may feel that way but… friendship can’t truly exist between a slave and her mistress.”

This stung Loress but she kept her mouth shut.

He wiped around her eyes, “Hold still, now… You may care about her… You may love her… but… I wish I could explain it better…”

Her eyes welled up as he poked near them; it was uncomfortable, “How many do you hold?”

“Zero,” he replied.

“Zero?”

“Look at my front legs,” he dropped the rag a moment and showed her, pulling back the gold chains he wore.

He was branded.

She was shocked, “You were a slave?!”

He almost chuckled at her astonishment, “Yes… more specifically I was a gladiator. My master… enjoyed handicapping me to show off my skill. He’d lock chains on me and send me to fight. I always won anyway… I was undefeated.”

She was sure she’d noticed he’d had some training, seeing the way be moved when he punched Euphor.

Seeing her initial surprise fade, he continued, “I won my freedom, Miss. I didn’t know how to do much else than kill but I came under a small merchant; he was good to me and adopted me as his son, having no heir. I was fortunate for that kindness and business was good. It got better, and I was able to move here, where the money’s at. I’ve been working with Clovis since he was a colt!”

“I see,” she murmured; she wondered about the chains. “Why the chains?”

He considered his gilded chains, “It’s quite a sight, isn’t it? What’s really crazy is I now do business with some of the very same ponies that once gambled on my life or death!”

He actually laughed, not insincerely.

Loress tilted her head, “So… why?”

“When I fought they called me the “Chain Breaker” for my strength… but I never did such a thing. When I was freed and tried to scrape together a living, ponies still called me a slave. The “Mercantile Slave”, they called me… It was meant as an insult, but I took it as a title. I now have more to my name than most, so I indulged in this one thing: gilded chains. It was the only ‘revenge’ I’ve taken. Now they call me the ‘Gold Slave’ or ‘Slave’s Gold’ and most use them with affection.”

“That’s kind of messed up,” she squirmed as he continued on her face.

“The world’s kind of messed up, Miss…”

She slumped, “I hate it…”

“As I said, Miss… I cannot judge you. I imagine you treat your servants better than most, but it doesn’t change what they are,” he mused.

She would’ve looked down if her face wasn’t full of rag.

Dropping the rag back in the bucket, he shook his hooves and stood, “There… done.”

“Uh… Thank you,” she replied.

A coldness in him could be noticed as he began to paddle away, “I’ll send out some attendants to help you; they should be ready.”

“O- okay…”

He left her… and something told her he didn’t feel much like dancing anymore… or that he wanted to spend another moment with her. But she still had a part to play in the night’s madness; she just didn’t know what it was yet.

The dinner was set to start in less than 30 minutes and just about everypony that was to be there was there.

Along with hundreds of others Dechaa and Orni watched the mayor descend the staircase. He was about 50-years-old and looked like something that crawled out of the sewer.

Orni groaned, “That? Clovis wants me to cozy up to that?”

This was no act. Dechaa could sympathize; she’d been the object of lust for a few older stallions, hanging out at pubs with her best friend.

Dechaa put a hoof on her shoulder, “We do whatever Clovis tells us, Orni…”

Orni gulped, “Oh, I hope this all works out.”

“Girls…” Delia showed up behind them.

Both jumped a little.

“Delia?” Dechaa recovered first.

Clovis and Delia had decided to keep the princess’s condition quiet; the maid put a hoof on each of their shoulders, “Things are going about as well as we can expect. Clovis will come find you in a few minutes and… introduce you to the mayor.”

Fuck… Orni lamented.

Dechaa nodded, “Okay, Delia.”

Delia didn’t enjoy lying but the two might not respond well and she needed them ready, “Just play it casual; it’s normal enough for the mayor to meet young ponies- and not just in the way you’re afraid of- as he often does business with their families.”

Dechaa and Orni felt their stomachs clench; Orni eked, “Got it.”

“But you’re alone…” Delia bemoaned. “Most colts have their families watching over them. You don’t, so be very careful.”

This did wonders for the confidence of the unicorn and the Knollwing.

Delia didn’t like it but added a final warning, “Dechaa… keep a close eye on the mayor; Clovis is afraid he might try to slip something into Orni’s drink or separate you two.”

Motherfucker! Dechaa and Orni both cursed the heavens.

Delia could see their trepidation and she felt sickened herself; she gave a hushed whisper, “If it comes to that… fuck the plan! Blast his ass, run, whatever!”

This was unexpected of Delia; she was giving them clearance -though it wasn’t hers to give- to fuck off to greener pastures if things went south.

Delia put an unexpectedly heartening hoof to Orni, “I have to watch over Zyra and Wilka but I’ll be watching you as well. I won’t see him lay a hoof on you if it can be helped. I’ll do all I can to help you; Clovis will do the same.”

Orni felt better than she had in at least a day, “Okay…”

Dechaa looked a little better off too.

Delia exhaled and was glad to hear that, “Great… Just relax and watch for Clovis.”

With that final reassurance Delia disappeared into the crowd.

Loress morosely wiped the continually oozing blood from Essenta’s brow. With Clovis and Delia both out helping the others with their own tasks there wasn’t anything else for her to do. She was changed into a simpler, much cleaner gown.

She’d hazarded a look at Essenta’s eyes; she was concussed alright.

Stroking Essenta’s boyish mane, she found herself talking to the princess, “Essenta… I’m so sorry.”

The princess only breathed slowly in response; she’d have a motherfucker of a headache when she woke up, with or without Dechaa’s healing touch.

“I tell you, Princess… if somepony’d told me back when I was guarding that stupid bridge I’d wind up adventuring with some alki princess halfway across the continent I’d have been inclined to maybe smack the taste out of their mouth.”

She found herself laughing despite herself.

“I…”

Nothing. She had nothing to say about much of anything. Say she was scared? That her confidence wavered like the tide on the seashore? Say she wanted to go home? Wondering if their adventures would take them through Terrow? If she was looked down upon for Terrans holding slaves? None of it made her feel any better.

So, she continued to stroke Essenta’s mane.

“Uh… Miss?”

Loress turned to see one of Clovis’s crew, “Yes?”

He considered her, not unkindly, “Clovis wants you to find him; he’s out by the second pillar away from the staircase. I’ll watch over the princess. I promise you I’ll take good care of her.”

Loress was relieved that they at least had some allies at the ball, “Thank you.”

He shepherded her out, “Don’t worry.”

She paddled out to the famed pillar; Clovis was there.

He would’ve liked to complement her on the simple gown she wore so well but he doubted she’d find any pleasure in it, “You just missed seeing the mayor come down… Did Milnir show up?”

She didn’t know his name, “One of your crew’s with her.”

He nodded, “Fine. She’s in good hooves so don’t fret.”

She was convinced but still did fret, “Got it.”

He considered her, “I know you’re still a bit shook up, but I need you to just act natural and act as my date for the meal. It might not sound like much but it’s important; if I need your strength you’ll be on hoof. I’ll seat you and then quickly introduce Orni to the mayor; we’ll be very near them, so we’ll be able to see what’s going on.”

“Okay,” she responded.

“After dinner, you just need to act your part and dance with some stallions; it’s normal to move on with things, despite what happened to the princess, unfortunately. Jaska will probably come to find you as soon as dessert’s been finished.”

She had to say it, “He isn’t going to even talk to me again… not after that.”

Clovis saw the great sadness in her fatally blue eyes; he understood her meaning and put a hoof to her shoulder, “I see.”

She looked close to waterworks again, looking down at her hooves.

He raised her chin, “Loress… he doesn’t hate you and he doesn’t hold it against you; he likes you. It’s just he… You see, it’s particularly painful for him… Uh…”

She closed her eyes, “He told me… that he was a gladiator… when we were outside.”

A melancholy clarity appeared on his face, “Oh… So, he did tell you.”

She nodded, lip quivering.

Gently, he put a hoofkerchief to the corner of one of her eyes, “Hold it together, Loress… We just got you cleaned up… You’re doing fine.”

Again, she nodded.

Catching the tears before they caused any trouble, he sniffed, “Jaska wears what he was as armor… but it’s not unbelievable for him to get thrown off, him seeing that happen to the princess. It’s not your fault; it’s mine for leading you all to this. I could blame the world all I like for it but that doesn’t mean a thing; we can still strive for something better… we can try.”

Loress could see more and more why so many seemed to look to Clovis, despite his innumerable faults, “I… think I’ll be fine, Clovis.”

This wasn’t unwelcome to hear, “Good, Loress… Now, let’s find our seats. Dinner won’t start for a time but there are before-dinner cocktails. You can relax and try to talk with ponies- they’ll be courteous to you, being my guest- and wait for me.”

Wading through the crowd he pulled her along to the head table.

“There’s the mayor,” Zyra looked with no small distaste at the stallion greeting ponies in the crowd, spreading a generous amount of hummus on a piece of flatbread. “He looks like something somepony let out of a jar!”

Wilka was keeping an eye out for Delia, not really listening to Zyra’s observation regarding the possibly less-than-savory fellow they were about to fuck over, “Uh-huh…”

Throwing on a piece of cheese and some vegetable, the mage toasted the flatbread with a zap of her horn, “Oh, yum.”

Wilka actually giggled, watching Zyra dig in to her umpteenth appetizer; at least she was making the best of it.

“Girls…”

Delia had arrived; Zyra turned to her, her face bearing evidence of her continuous snacking, “Hey, Delia…”

Delia regarded them, “Are you two alright?”

Wilka sighed, “I guess…”

“Clovis is most confident you’ll be able to do this,” Delia motioned Zyra away from the buffet.

Wilka followed Delia; Zyra grumbled and left the table, stuffing an unidentifiable fried vegetable into her mouth.

“How do we get up there?” Wilka eyed the space beyond the top of the staircase.

Delia made a turn; she hoofed open a door and they were met with a blast of cool air, “We go outside.”

Nopony even noticed them leaving.

The three of them made an interesting trio, trotting alongside the outer wall of the mansion: a cocktail waitress, some unicorn attendant, and some tiny Pegasus in a poofy gown were quite a sight.

“Here,” Delia stopped, looking up the wall; it was a long way up. “Zyra, I’m guessing you can levitate well enough. Yourself too?”

Of course, she could, “Sure.”

“Assist me up the wall,” her eyes darted at the roof. “I’ll scope out the roof and wave you up if it’s safe; you can fly and levitate up. The best way in is a ventilation panel up top.”

Delia put a hoof against the wall.

Zyra’s horn glowed, “Ready, Delia?”

“Yes,” she put another of her front hooves to the wall. “I left behind a few of my tools just for the sake of secrecy and light weight; I’m trusting you to get me up there alive.”

The unicorn smirked, “Don’t worry, Delia; I like you. I’m not gonna splat you.”

The maid shook her head, a nasty little smile on her face, “Great… Okay. Give me a little magic.”

“Gotcha,” Zyra’s horn glowed.

Wilka watched in amazement as Delia walked up the wall as if she was on level ground.

Delia went along easily, soon climbing onto the roof.

Up top, the maid looked around; the panel was exactly where she remembered, not that she expected anything else. Looking through the skylights she was glad to see nopony to interfere with their fun. She’d keep a lookout for anything, but it was at least safe to bring the other two up.

Leaning over the edge, she waved to the other two.

Wilka unfurled her wings, taking off, and Zyra levitated upwards; their portion of the operation had begun.

With Dechaa at her shoulder Orni could already smell the mayor; boy, did he have some liquor on his breath! Despite wearing the finest of clothing he looked quite disheveled, as if he’d slept in his garments for a month straight without washing them or himself.

Clovis had led the two mares to the very pinnacle of the seating arrangement, having sat Loress a couple seats away. The Terran sipped nervously on a most delicious cocktail, watching with revulsion, knowing Orni was about to meet the mayor.

Clovis cleared his throat, “Ahem… Mr. Mayor, it pleases me to introduce you to young Master Nior… he’s a son of the Goldbrick family out west. I have a few ties with them as far as the gold and silver trade. He’s visiting Master Melchior’s estate this week. You’ll be seeing a lot more of the Goldbrick family- I’m glad to say- as they’ve uncovered a yet-untouched gold seam out west of the mountains.”

What surprised the girls was that the mayor wasn’t all that drunk; he just smelled like it, as if alcohol released from his pours instead of sweat. His strange eyes glanced over Orni. Most stallions would’ve been excited about opportunities in gold and silver but with the mayor it didn’t even seem to register.

Clovis went on, “I was hoping he’d be able to sit near us. Seeing there’s a couple spots by you that aren’t taken I was hoping he’d be able to join us here.”

His strange eyes and face betrayed something not so very savory as he looked Orni up and down. Clovis recognized it and had seen a very similar mien very infrequently around the city. Occasionally ponies became lucky and would actually win money; the air the mayor permeated- other than his stench- could be likened to a pony having reason to shout out the words any gambler would love to say:

JACKPOT!

The girls saw the same thing Clovis did; the questionable countenance wasn’t lost on them.

Fuck…

“Of course,” the mayor hummed; if the girls thought his body stunk, his breath smelled of hot garbage. “I’d love to have young Master Nior’s company.”

Both mares had the same thought: How the fuck was this guy a teacher?!

Ding, ding! Ding, ding!

The mayor brightened further, calling out, “Okay, everypony! Start making your way to your seats! We have a special before-dinner beverage for everypony!”

Clovis saw Orni’s eyes. They weren’t exactly pleading with him, but they weren’t far off from it. He watched Orni sit down next to the mayor as he took his own seat next to Loress. Dechaa stood off to the side, as was her supposed place, not too close and not too far away from the little Knollwing.

Hundreds of ponies began to head to their own seats.

The Mayoral Ball’s dinner was about to begin.

Author's Note

Check out the Appendix for Princess Essenta, updated as the story moves along. It shows the story's timeline and character designs. Contains spoilers.

Things are moving into place... Will Essenta's little company succeed or will they have to improvise?

Find out next time.

If you enjoy Princess Essenta, please take a look at Larkspur Blossom. A story of a colt finding his worth and making a better life for himself.

Also look for The Virgin Company. A tale of a military pony and his platoon in a war centuries ago.

Like, follow, or leave a comment if you please. It's been fun writing and I'm glad some enjoy it.

Thanks for reading, and take care.

Chapter 32: Discovery?

"Last Chance" Stopover Arc

Under the stars a skylight was carefully pried open and a set of dark green eyes under an abnormally upkept mane peered down.

Delia may have packed light for this job but there were a few things she’d never be without; taking the rope she tied off on a nearby chimney she slowly snaked the rope through the opening she’d made.

Turning to Zyra and Wilka, the little maid didn’t even need to hike up her cocktail dress; it was pretty short to begin with, “I’ll go down first. You can magic down and fly down once I wave you in.”

Wilka peered down the skylight into darkness, “Won’t somepony notice a big old rope hanging in?”

Delia shook her head, “Nopony will be going in this room and we need a way back up if all else fails. Going back up might beat getting out another way.”

The two company mares watched as Delia descended the rope. Landing softly on her hooves she quickly cased the room; seeing nothing of effect, she waved down the other two.

Both came down by their ideal conveyance; Wilka whispered, “Zyra… I never knew you could fly.”

She smirked, “Levitation ain’t flight but I’ll take it; it’s so cool…”

The maid hissed, “Less chatter… we have four rooms to check out: the mayor’s office, his library, his bedroom, and his study. I have a nasty feeling I know where we might find what we’re looking for- if it exists- but the office is first… All part of the plan.

Creeping out of the vestibule they encountered the upper reception area; to the rear they could see evidence of the ballroom lights and hear dinner starting through the glass doors.

“Okay…” Delia proclaimed. “We stay together but spread out in each room. Leave nothing out of place; they can’t know we were here. Zyra… can you sense anypony up here?”

Zyra closed her eyes and “felt” the upstairs; she wasn’t as adept as Dechaa at such things but was able enough, “There’s one pony- not a unicorn- in a room behind us.”

Delia nodded, “That’s the night guard; we were unsure if he was patrolling but if he’s back there he’s observing the ball from the observation deck.”

“If you knew there was possibly a guard up here why didn’t you say something?” Zyra wondered.

“Because we can deal with it,” came her simple response.

The maid produced a small article with a string and motioned the girls to follow. Outside a door they stopped.

“This is the observation room,” Delia said; she cracked and slid the flat object under the door and quickly stuffed a few rags in the gap. “And this will knock him out for an hour.”

Within seconds they heard a flump.

“He fell off his chair,” Zyra guessed. “Out cold.”

“He’ll feel that when he wakes up,” Delia retrieved the rags and the item on the string. “Stuff has no smell, is almost undetectable, and dissipates in about 10 seconds; it’s my own creation.”

The company mares were impressed but Delia moved past.

“C’mon, girls. Let’s see what sickness the office holds,” Delia didn’t even appear nervous.

Wilka shuffled her hooves, ‘What are we looking for? Really?”

The maid looked to the other mares evenly, “Anything Master Melchior can blackmail the mayor with.”

Zyra cocked her head, “Anything?”

Delia clarified, “Anything that goes beyond usual corruption. The mayor’s clean on the surface and he could rebuff most anything with his clout; we’re looking for something bad.”

The two of Essenta’s company saw things getting worse and worse.

Ah, piss…

Delia picked the lock on a door and entered with Zyra and Wilka reluctantly following.

With the aperitif out of the way salad was served. Ponies had finished joining the many tables, having left the snack buffet and the pools behind.

Loress sat next to Clovis, munching on the salad given her; she cringed inwardly, watching Orni’s predicament. Dechaa stood leaning against a wall, as was her place that night, worried. Clovis wasn’t having the best experience either.

There were a few colts- definitely young teens- seated near the mayor; he paid attention to them all but seemed to have an eye for “Nior Goldbrick”.

“Tell me, Master Nior…” the mayor inquired. “What do you think of this side of the mountains?”

The mayor was definitely on the way to getting drunk; throughout the social time leading up to salad he’d been drinking and talking up the young colts nearby.

Orni knew her part, “It’s not much different than where our claim’s at, Mr. Mayor. Kind of dry and not without some greenery. A lot more field crops though.”

The mayor nodded; he turned to Melchior’s “stooge”, “Hey, Clovis! How’s the greenhouse expansion going? Can we do a few more root veggies soon?”

Clovis didn’t appreciate this; everypony knew they’d been trying and failing to start contained fields, hoping to expand the things they could grow on the oasis “Last Chance” City was built upon, “No dice, Mr. Mayor… I still have most of that imported. I’m thankful for vine and leafy crops… but we’re starting tobacco in the spring. We’ve been working with ponies from up north that’ve had some luck growing with floating containers. If we can do it inside, we could grow the stuff year-round.”

Loress recalled Essenta jawing with Melchior about the hydroponics his interests ran; it was interesting at least.

The mayor was actually impressed, “Imagine the money there! A lot less shipping from the tropics, at least.”

“That’s the idea,” Clovis nodded, putting fork to salad. “But for it we need more land. Please consider-”

The mayor waved a hoof, “Oh, pish-posh on that stuff; I treat dinner like business but do not discuss it.”

Clovis insisted, “Master Melchior would like to-”

“I know what he’d like to do, Clovis,” the mayor sucked down a goblet of red wine. “And the matter can wait.”

Clovis looked discouraged, as if he’d been trying to breach the topic times untold, “Another time it is, then.”

The mayor continued on his salad, “He can come discuss the matter if he wishes. It’s not like he’s banned from here… that’s just for tonight.”

The guests laughed, likely remembering whatever it was that got Melchior on the shit-list that night; it was doubtful they’d laugh in front of the stallion himself, though.

Dechaa was close enough to hear and Loress and Orni realized something too. Melchior was upset about “business restrictions” or something and the mayor “getting in the way” and “nosing around in his affairs”. It was clear: Melchior wanted land and apparently the mayor wasn’t budging on some matter that would allow its use.

Loress had to talk with Clovis; she feigned ailment, “Oh, Mr. Clovis… I’m feeling a touch of the vapors… I’d like a moment outside.”

A mare of her standing wishing for some fresh air was about as abnormal as a sneeze to all of the wealthy ponies present; it was hot in the ballroom to boot, even Loress’s new gown didn’t breathe, and the “delicate belle” had had a rough night, with her "slave" getting knocked out by a whiskey snifter…

Clovis stood, “Mr. Mayor, if you’ll excuse us for a time…”

The mayor shared in the pathos of his guests, “Oh, don’t fret, Clovis. You don’t need to ask permission from me.”

Loress stood as well, giving a tiny curtsy to the mayor and his guests, “My apologies, everypony. Please do excuse me.”

To a chorus of “it’s nothing”, “take your time”, and “such a dear” Loress smiled pleasantly in return.

The mayor grinned at her, “Think nothing of it, my dear.”

The dinner would go on.

As Loress and Clovis left the ballroom, Clovis whispered to Dechaa, “Watch over Orni…”

The unicorn nodded, looking green in the gills; she’d try.

Outside, Loress leaned over the railing, “So that’s what this is all about… I thought Melchior was upset about the mayor looking into his less pleasant endeavors.”

Clovis nodded, “That’s part of it, Loress. But, mostly, Mel wants control- and ownership- of a piece of land managed- but not owned- by the city. The old orchard there is failing and it’s time to uproot it. The city plans to replant but Mel wants to use it for… maybe the same reason or to expand our greenhouses. We haven’t made the decision if we get it.”

“The city doesn’t own the land?” Loress wondered.

“The land belongs to the family that founded this city; they let the city maintain it but private workers- not under us- run the orchard. Mel wants to buy it and the family’s willing, but the mayor and his cabinet don’t want Mel controlling or owning the land, so they passed a bill this spring; the bill states… a lot of things but the gist is Mel can’t buy the land and it’s to remain under city control and private ownership. It’s a fucking mess…”

“I see…” Loress stared out over the city, as she had earlier; it was a place she’d be glad to leave behind. “Melchior wants the mayor to change the decision or step down. The deputy-mayor is in Melchior’s pocket, I take it?”

“In ways you don’t want to even begin to think about…” Clovis sighed.

She believed this, “That explains it. I admit… I thought this was something much worse that we were up to.”

“Oh, it’s bad…” Clovis grumbled. “But it’s nothing any of you will die over.”

Loress simpered, “That’s yet to be seen, Clovis… Let’s get back.”

They re-entered in time for the main dish.

“Keep alert, Zyra” Delia spoke quietly, feeling around the floor of the office for a loose board or evidence of a hidey-hole. “If you sense anypony other than us and sleepyhead a couple rooms over don’t be shy about letting us know.”

Zyra was rifling through a drawer in the mayor’s desk, “Been on it, Delia… You figure we’ll find evidence of his penchant in his study… maybe in his bedroom… So why are we looking in the office first?”

Wilka had been wondering this as well.

Delia was checking out the liquor cabinet; she knew he kept one in most of his rooms, “Zyra… where do you hide your giggle-stick?”

Zyra flushed in the dark, “…What?!...”

Delia wasn’t messing around, “Where?”

Wilka reddened and continued to look behind books in the shelves; she’d found a few governmental bills the mayor was sitting on and a few inside deals he was part of but no indication of the shadier relations for which they were searching.

Delia smirked at their reactions, “Fine… Where do you hide the stuff you don’t want anypony to see? Do you keep it in your room or do you put it somewhere else?”

Zyra muttered something about not owning a “giggle-stick”, “I… don’t know. It’s hard to know where ponies might come across things if they go nosing around; I mean… look at us.”

Delia shook with jollity, despite the inappropriateness of the time, “Great answer. We don’t know where the mayor might be stashing things away; it’s a gamble, sometimes. But we have time to look so the order might not matter as much if we stick to a schedule.

“Master Melchior is well known for hiding things in hollowed-out books (something I know nothing about, of course) which we’re not seeing in here and I doubt we’ll see it elsewhere. I bury my own valuables. But… what we’re looking for isn’t likely something to hide in plain sight, I’m afraid; and I am afraid. Still… I wonder…”

The maid went to a table map next to the bookcase; it appeared to be a normal table with a topographic map of the nearby mountains and areas near “Last Chance” City. She knocked on a part of it with her hoof.

Knock, knock, knock.

She tried another place.

Knock, knock, knock.

And another.

Thunk, thunk, thunk.

“Ah, ha! And that was just on a guess,” Delia beamed.

She pried out a patch of marshland on the north side of the mountain range; to the amazement of the girls Delia brought out a little vial.

Zyra grinned, “Color me impressed; I thought I was the clever one around here…”

Wilka gawked at whatever Delia had come across, “What is that?”

Delia wasn’t smiling anymore, studying the item, “…You don’t wanna know…”

Zyra chuckled, “No, seriously… What is it?”

Delia looked uncomfortable, “Zyra… you’re familiar with compounds: it’s hydrogen cyanide…”

Zyra recoiled. The mayor had something like that hidden in his office?!

Even Wilka knew what that meant; she was aghast.

Grimly, Delia put the vial back where it came from and it then appeared as if nopony had been searching around, “Whether it was meant for he himself or somepony else, he has something to hide if he’s prepared to kill… We don’t know what it is but there’s something big nearby.”

The company mares shuddered.

Delia had meanwhile gone to check out a portrait on the wall; finding nothing behind it she turned to the girls, “I’ve been poking around, and I doubt this is the place. We go to the library next.

Melchior had been drinking pretty heavily the past couple hours, “Those shit-stains at city hall- or state capitol- who fuckin’ cares- ban me from the big jamboree?!”

A couple ponies tried to reason with him; one of his maids begged, “Master, how about we just head back to your study? It’s late and we’ve prepared fresh pie in the kitchen.”

“Fuck your pie,” Melchior spat; he was set on leaving. “I wouldn’t want it if you were in bed with your back legs open!”

“What…?” she balked.

To the disbelief and dismay of his staff, Melchior had been into his hard liquor cabinet. He so rarely cracked it open, other than for business he conducted, settling for his favored wine and occasionally beer in his leisure time. He was good and lit up and in a mean mood.

“Yeah…” Melchior breathed as he reached the front door. “Who’s gonna ferry me there?!”

He looked around, fully expecting somepony to gladly volunteer. This had escalated quickly; just a couple minutes before he’d seemed content to doze in his study.

“Uh, Master?” one of Clovis’s crew saw things falling apart and had come to “the rescue” despite his lack of motivation to be firm with the frightening stallion. “Word is things are going smoothly at the ball; Clovis and Delia have a firm hoof on things and they need to be left to their work.”

This was a lie, of course: the princess (that Melchior still didn’t know was a princess) had been brained with a snifter and the office and library had turned up nothing of consequence in the mares’ search.

Melchior bucked aside a unicorn and Pegasus stallion- two of Clovis’s best spared just to keep Melchior at bay- and harped upon the staff, “Piss off, the lot of you! If nopony’s willing to get me there, I’ll walk; it’s only three miles!”

It might be difficult to believe the staff were this afraid of Melchior, but they surely were; ponies that knew Melchior were usually dedicated to staying out of his way. They watched him disappear into the night.

One of the stallions kicked aside sighed, “Somepony call up Clovis on the crystal ball; let him know what’s happened.”

Clovis was none too pleased with the news, “You let him go?!”

A panicked voice came through the little crystal ball Clovis kept in his pocket, “He hit the vodka, Clovis… I wasn’t gonna stand in his way!”

“You’re magical! How many times have we put him to sleep with it?!”

“I’m sorry, Clovis; we lost our nerve…” whined the caller.

“Shit…” Clovis lamented from a side room; he was missing the main course, having left Loress at the table. “Please tell me you sent somepony after him.”

“We did, but… we can’t find him.”

Clovis felt his stomach clench, “You what?!”

The flustered voice responded, “We lost him at the park south of the estate… Maybe he wandered off and we’ll be able to find him in the morning…”

Clovis had no idea as Melchior was unpredictable; they’d once found him swimming in a fountain in the “redder-light” district where really special shit occurred, “Keep looking; keep me posted. I’ll let the guys here know to watch out for him. Things aren’t going the best but they’re going. We need to keep him away! Understood?!”

“Yes, Clovis,” the crystal ball faded out.

Clovis immediately called Delia, “Delia. Status?”

“We’re just about done in the bedroom; no dice, yet…” Delia spoke back into the crystal ball.

Zyra and Wilka were feeling around the wallpaper, looking for any out-of-place seams; they’d found no leads and neither had Delia. The mayor kept a pretty plain room and no potential hiding places were noticed.

“Okay,” Clovis answered from the other end.

“But there’s gotta be something up here,” Delia was sure. “He wouldn’t keep a suicide cocktail hidden in a table over a little embezzling; that’s small potatoes around here…”

Clovis realized the mares had found some poison; it wasn’t not promising, “I see. The mayor might be a creep but he’s much cleverer than most would ever expect. And there’s another matter; now, keep your voice down about this…”

“Why?”

A pause; Clovis didn’t like it but Delia had to know, “Melchior got away and they can’t find him.”

“Those assholes…” Delia pulled on her eyelids. “…Alright… Do you know anything else?”

“Not now; I’ll keep you posted,” Clovis responded.

“We’ll keep trying up here,” Delia whispered.

“And please be careful; you never know what danger might lurk up there…”

This gave Delia pause; she knew Clovis cared for her… and she wished she wasn’t always at his throat so much, “Thanks, Clovis.”

“Be safe,” he signed off.

The maid gave a wistful, little sigh; there were times Clovis seemed so cool- even a heartthrob- and other times he seemed like a dumb teenager (he was at least the teen part) who was always in over his head. But she could worry about her conflicting feelings later.

Back to quiet, Delia turned to see Zyra and Wilka going through the dresser and closet.

Delia exhaled, knowing they’d been doing all they could; they had at least 20 minutes once dessert began and that hadn’t started yet. And after dessert would be a brief coffee which even the mayor wouldn’t elect to leave. Her fear was somepony coming upstairs as dinner ended; the mayor often gave tours of his office to guests and she feared he might give a “tour” of his more private quarters to a certain little cross-dresser.

“Girls,” the maid spoke up. “Spruce things up and then we go to the study; there has to be something in there.”

The other mares nodded and set about with leaving no trace; they’d been quite good with that thus far.

The main course was taken away. Loress was surprised at the pace which dinner moved at; 25 minutes had seen salad and the main course pass by. With the snack buffet it wasn’t necessary to have more than a few courses or make them large portions. The mayor didn’t like things bogged down and even dinner moved at a business pace; there was time for other pleasures after dinner.

Dessert was passed out; the lemon tart looked excellent.

The mayor was feeling his liquor; he regarded Loress, “Miss Strawhouse… how’s your hoofmaiden doing?”

It seemed inappropriate dinner talk, but he was not sober, and he was the mayor so nopony raised an eyebrow.

Loress tried to keep the emotion from her voice; she’d been trying to put Essenta from her mind, “One of Mr. Clovis’s is watching over her; she’ll be fine with some rest.”

“That’s a relief,” the mayor was nibbling on the tart. “If there’s anything I can do to help you- or her- don’t hesitate to ask.”

Unsure of his sincerity- though unconcerned as she’d not be asking it- she said gratefully, “Thank you, Mr. Mayor. If things come to that I will do so.”

“Don’t hesitate,” the mayor restated.

Loress poked at her own tart; dinner was delicious but the whole night left a foul taste in her mouth and her appetite wasn’t great. She thought about the girls up in the mayor’s private quarters and doubted they were enjoying the night any more than she was.

She was pulled from her thinking by the mayor’s voice, “-you’d like to visit the office? You could see where we conduct the city business.”

Loress knew, based on what Clovis and Delia had told them, that many wealthy families sent their colts and fillies to the big city for a number of reasons. One reason was to learn about business and politics; for all the illegal shit that went on in “Last Chance” City it bustled with both activities of the cleaner sort. Even listening to the colts at the table, a number of them were there for internships or apprenticeships.

The colts were excited about the prospect of seeing the guts of the city government but one of them was less so… Orni had gone pale!

The mayor smiled, “Well, then… once dessert concludes I’d like to bring up anypony that wants to see.”

More than just the colts were pleased to hear this; several ponies at the table cheered.

The mayor grinned, “Clovis! I’d hate to pull you away from your lovely guest, but would you accompany us on the tour? I sometimes think you know more about this building than I do.”

This was unexpected; Clovis had been planning to sneak away upstairs after dinner but now he wouldn’t have to. Clovis glanced to Loress and both understood each other.

Loress dimpled at Clovis, “Oh, Mr. Clovis… Please go! It would mean so much to everypony if you did! Doesn’t that sound fun, young Master Nior?”

Orni’s complexion improved about 15 shades, back to her healthy blue-green, “Oh, it does; would you, Mr. Clovis?”

Clovis beamed, “I’d be delighted! Make sure you save me a dance, though, Miss Resso.”

Loress simpered, “With the line forming, I can grant you no promises…”

The end of the table broke up with laughter; they knew just how popular Loress was at the party.

“It’s settled then!” the mayor exclaimed. “After dinner!”

Clovis felt his stomach clench. Shit!

“Clovis, you better not have said what I think you just said,” Delia hissed into the crystal ball.

“I can’t help it,” his voice came through; Clovis had excused himself again from the table. “That’s why I’m warning you. You’re in the study so keep at it. I’ll give you five minutes warning before we come up there; you have 10 minutes to keep looking.”

“Well, we haven’t found fuck-in-church, Clovis…” Delia stated. “We’ve almost turned the study upside down and I’m running out of ideas up here.”

“Keep at it. Expect a message in about 10 minutes."

"What are we gonna do, then?!" Delia snarled.

"I haven't decided; the tour won't last all that long, so it might be possible for the three of you to sneak out and then back in again."

Delia almost chucked the crystal ball but kept her temper; she took a calming breath, "Well, you'd better decide quick!"

"I'll message you."

Delia fumed a few seconds; it was unlike her to lose her cool so badly but Clovis was impossible at times.

Wilka didn’t like the look of things, “What is it?”

Zyra looked away from the bookcase she was checking.

“The mayor’s giving a tour to Orni and a bunch of the guests,” Delia cringed. “Clovis is coming up here too- and maybe Dechaa- in about 15 or 20 minutes.”

There was a small consolation in all that; Wilka gave a sigh of relief, “If Dechaa and Clovis are there, then I’m not worried about Orni anymore.”

Zyra felt the same way.

Delia hadn’t thought about that, wrapped up in her own thoughts, “Yes… that’s a good thing.”

Seeing how glad the girls were to hear the news, Delia felt like an ass, but she could worry about that later; their job wasn’t done yet, “Loress is staying downstairs for appearances and they might not even come in here. We did a fine job leaving things as we found them, so I’m not worried about that. There's a chance we can circumvent them and keep at this. I guess we wait for Clovis to call again and play things by ear.”

The girls took a few seconds to compose themselves and continued poking around in the study.

Off in the side room, Essenta stirred and the world was spinning, “Oh… my fuggin’ head…”

“Just keep still, Princess.”

She turned her fuzzy gaze to some stallion she didn’t know, “Who are fuggin’ you?”

He tried not to chuckle at her mixed-up words, “I’m one of Clovis’s.”

Essenta remembered something, “Is it over?”

“Rest, Princess…”

She didn’t have much choice; she slipped away again.

A knock was heard at the door, “Emile…”

The stallion watching over Essenta glanced over, “Come in, Clovis.”

Clovis entered, “How is she, Emile?”

“She’s woken up a few times… not making much sense. She got hit pretty hard.”

Clovis wasn’t anywhere close to forgiving himself for the ill treatment Essenta received, “This is all my fault.”

Emile had a hard time denying this, “Just be glad the Terran didn’t kill that bastard in front of everypony. I saw her; she was itching to pulp his ass…”

Clovis didn’t need to be reminded of what Loress could do, “She’s playing her part about as perfectly as I’d dreamed… I guess the setup was for the best after all.”

Emile knew Clovis had a reason for coming in, “What’s happening?”

“Delia and Essenta’s two friends have about 10 minutes before the mayor heads upstairs with a bunch of ponies for a tour; I’m going up too.”

Emile wondered, “It change anything?”

Clovis shook his head, “Not really. I just have to make a call whether to call the girls off or keep the tour away from the study. If I can keep us out of the study they’d have more time in there, but I don’t think it’s worth the risk; I’ve been in there recently and there’s no hiding in there.”

“So, they don’t have much time left… Dare I ask what you’re gonna do?”

Clovis knew things would get messy if he didn’t have something to show to Melchior, “I don’t know yet; I was thinking about putting them back in once we'd finished the tour. If the mayor's away from the upstairs we'd have an open window."

Emile grimaced, "We didn't prepare for this... A lot could go wrong, Clovis. We could have a changing of the guard or the mayor could retire for the night or any number of things could wind up happening."

Clovis had considered this; it was hard to decide, "What do you think?"

"I told you what I think: a lot could go wrong. Things could go bad but we might not get another shot this good... but it's your call."

Clovis stroked his chin, "Yes..."

Emile nodded, “Well… you’ve seen us through worse than this, Clovis…”

This was true; they’d crossed the continent as foals and lived to tell the awful tale.

Clovis kneaded his old friend’s shoulder; steeling himself, he'd made his choice, “Keep watch over the princess.”

“Gotcha.”

“You’re sure you can’t keep him out of the study?” Delia lamented. “Or at least give us another go later? We won’t get another chance like this…”

Clovis was calling from down below, “We can’t risk it; he’s giving a public tour and we have no intel beyond our planning. Clean up and get out of there.”

"What next...?" Delia knew the potential gravity of the situation; Melchior wouldn't be pleased.

"You let me worry about Melchior... and the Princess's friends; it's my responsibility," Clovis sounded weak.

Delia didn’t like giving up but there wasn’t much to do; she submitted, “We’re just about done. Give us five minutes and it’ll be like we were never here.”

The maid slumped down against the sofa, closing her eyes.

Zyra felt her stomach clench, “So… it’s over?”

Delia looked up and nodded miserably, “It’s over…”

Both company mares looked down at their hooves; they’d tried…

Wilka whimpered, “So what now?”

Delia stood, “We just need to finish cleaning up. We need to ascend to the skylight in about four minutes.”

This was manageable.

Delia noticed a book out of place, “Wilka… fix that book.”

Wilka looked to the shelf; there was a small book turned onto its spine, “I didn’t touch it, though…”

Zyra looked as well, “Neither did I…”

Zyra put a hoof to the book; it was covered in so much dust she doubted it had moved in years.

Righting the book, the three mares felt the floor shake.

All jumping in surprise, the bookcase slid across the wall; there was a room behind it.

Their jaws dropped as they took in the scene within.

“No way…” Delia gasped.

Wilka just about had a panic attack, sheltering behind Zyra; a cry escaped her throat.

Zyra shook her head, aghast, “What the fuck…?”

Clovis was just about to rejoin Loress one last time before heading upstairs with the mayor and the touring party when the crystal ball lit up in his pocket.

“Yes?” he wouldn’t know who it was until he heard a voice.

“Clovis! Keep the mayor out of the study!” Delia cried from the other end; she sounded… shaken up.

“What?” Clovis took a moment to register this.

“We found something… Something big… We found- holy shit!” she almost sobbed.

“What did you find?!” Clovis tried to keep his voice down.

“There’s no time to explain! We can’t get the door in shut again! It’s wide open!”

“You… found another room?” Clovis couldn’t believe it.

“Yes!” Delia was frantic. “We’ll keep trying to close it. Just keep the mayor out, whatever you have to do! If we can fix this, I’ll signal you with the special tap on the ball; we can still sneak out later if you keep them occupied.”

“Fine,” he relented. “But if I can’t stop the mayor or you can't close it or you can’t get away, what do we do then?”

“I don’t know yet, Clovis. Maybe Zyra can blast us out or something,” she wasn’t completely not serious.

“Don’t do that… Okay… I’ll do my damnedest to keep them out.”

“Out,” Delia ended the dialogue.

Clovis felt a little lightheaded as he meandered back to his “date”; the night was getting to be too much.

“Everypony: please enjoy the dance and after-dinner drinks; we have an open-bar!” the mayor declared.

Hundreds of voices cheered in response.

“I’ll be conducting a brief tour to the interested ponies,” the mayor smiled. “But upon my return I have a special announcement to make! Look forward to it!”

Clovis hadn’t heard anything about a “special announcement” from the mayor but had a nasty feeling he’d publicly declare his stance on the piece of land Melchior wanted… Great… That on top of everything else.

Sticking close to Orni and Dechaa- who’d been allowed to come along simply because she was “Nior’s” guardian- Clovis prepared to ascend the staircase with the mayor and touring party; he felt a tap on his shoulder.

It was Loress; she looked at him with quite a bit of worry in her eyes, “Clovis…”

“Yes?” he wasn’t enjoying how uncomfortable she appeared.

“I’m… glad you’re going up there; I know you’ll do everything you can to protect my friends… and your friend, Delia…”

He nodded grimly, “I’ll try…”

“I know,” she said, misty-eyed. “If only you’d never pulled us into this but… No… What’s done is done; just try.”

“Yes…” he didn’t feel too confident.

She gave him just a little peck on the cheek, “For luck…”

He nodded again, “Okay… You look good. No more crying and hold down the fort. You have some ponies to entertain.”

She managed a small laugh, “I got this.”

Watching her paddle away he tried to boost his confidence; it wasn’t easy as they began to move up the stairs.

Author's Note

Check out the Appendix for Princess Essenta, updated as the story moves along. It shows the story's timeline and character designs. Contains spoilers.

Delia, Zyra, and Wilka, have come across something horrifying. But will it wind up being their ticket to freedom?

Things come to a head next time, and one way or another the mission will end for Essenta's little company.

If you enjoy Princess Essenta, please take a look at Larkspur Blossom. A story of a colt finding his worth and making a better life for himself.

Also look for The Virgin Company. A tale of a military pony and his platoon in a war centuries ago.

Like, follow, or leave a comment if you please. It's been fun writing and I'm glad some enjoy it.

Thanks for reading, and take care.

Chapter 33: Sfilacci

"Last Chance" Stopover Arc

Loress briefly went to the snack table; she wasn’t hungry but thirsty. Finding a nice cordial, she quaffed it nervously; she could see several stallions making a beeline for her.

“Miss Resso…”

Loress turned to the voice; it was Jaska.

“Mr. Jaska!” she hadn’t expected to see him again.

He looked sheepish, “I… regret my coarseness towards you earlier. I hoped we could talk a few minutes before the dance. And if you’d still have me…”

She looked upon his kind face and smiled, “Mr. Jaska… I’d be honored to dance with you.”

He looked glad, “Yes?”

“Oh, my, yes…” she beamed. “This cordial’s amazing; let’s grab a pitcher and head outside.”

“I just love walking down this staircase; I just feel so regal,” the mayor mused, leading the ponies upstairs. “Going back up, though… that’s another matter entirely!”

The visitors laughed as the mayor poked at his ample gut.

Clovis was up front with the mayor. He’d had to improvise. He’d never wanted the mayor to give a tour of any kind upstairs but when he was called to guide the tour it wasn’t the worst thing to happen; he wouldn’t have to sneak around, and he’d be able to better dictate what the ponies saw and didn't if he was running things.

His plans kept on getting tossed up. He might’ve been able to fenagle the group to give the mares opportunity to continue their task or give them another chance if things had gone smoothly; but the three mares had found a secret room in the mayor’s study and were unable to conceal it. The room held something awful and it was gaping open for anypony to see.

Guiding the tour in such a way to give the mares time to clear out was one thing… but completely avoiding the room? It was a given the office and library were on the agenda. The bedroom was certainly private… but the study? That was up to the mayor, Clovis figured.

“Clovis!” the mayor looked to him. “When did they last renovate?”

Clovis knew the answer; it was just before Delia cased the place, “Just over a year ago… right before the election. I think a few of the candidates just wanted to win so they could live here!”

The mayor chuckled, “It’s quite a perk, Clovis!”

Dechaa and Orni were content to be near the rear. It now seemed unlikely any teacups or possibly other things would find new shelter in which to take up but neither could stand any more of the mayor’s alcohol/dead carcass breath.

“You must see the observation deck!” the mayor declared as they reached the top of the stairs and passed through the glass double-doors leading to the reception area.

Clovis’s mind did a somersault; the mares had knocked out the stallion meant to be guarding the upstairs. Remembering the guard was on the floor, he almost lost his head.

By the time Clovis regained his wits the mayor had already opened the door to the observation room.

Shit…

“What in blazes?! Dilo!” the mayor exclaimed.

Clovis breathed a sigh of relief when he looked into the room; Dilo hadn’t fallen off the chair but had simply cracked his head on the table in front of him.

Dilo wiped drool from his face, rubbing his head, “I’m so sorry, Mr. Mayor! I didn’t mean to-”

The mayor waved it off, “Dilo, don’t worry. I’ve had you working 20 hours straight; I can’t believe you’ve been able to stay awake the whole day. I’m sorry.”

Dilo hoofed his neck, “I know, Mr. Mayor… but the other guards are sick; it can’t be helped. I just can’t keep my eyes open.”

“There’s no need; you’re relieved for the night,” the mayor said. “I’ll send your relief up in a few moments. Please go home to your family.”

Dilo was most thankful, “Yessir! I’ll be ready to work right away in the morning.”

“See that you are. We need you,” the mayor watched as Dilo left.

Dechaa and Orni thought the same thing: the mayor was perhaps an evil colt-tickler, but he wasn’t wholly evil. It still wasn’t much solace…

The mayor clapped his hooves, “Clovis! Would you do the honor of getting the lights?”

“Will do,” Clovis’s horn glowed and the candles in the reception area lit up in response. “I think everypony would love to see the office. But first, there are a few things worth saying about the atrium.”

“A splendid idea,” the mayor answered. “Lead the way, Clovis.”

Clovis took a few moments with it; there were a few nice pieces of furniture and portraits of past mares and the city founders. Wowie…

Clovis kept glancing at the door he knew protected from their view the three mares and whatever struggles with which they contended.

Trying to shake off his worry, he led the group into the office.

“I wish I could explain myself better, Miss Resso… You didn’t deserve to be treated that way,” Jaska looked over the city, sipping the cordial he shared with Loress.

Leaning over the railing beside him, Loress sighed, “Believe me, Mr. Jaska, I could never know how it felt to see all that, but I think I can understand.”

He fluffed his wings, shaking them out in the breeze; it caused his chains to jingle, “As you said, it’s just something I have a hard time getting over.”

“I never said you… had to get over it, Mr. Jaska- I meant-” she flustered.

He laughed, “Don’t fret, Miss… I think I know what you meant. You really are a kind young mare.”

Loress didn’t really mean to change the topic so abruptly but said what entered her mind.

“Ren… young Master Nior’s attendant… said the skylights inside were enchanted, allowing us a view of the stars,” Loress looked to the sky. “But with the light pollution out here about all we can see is the moon.”

The city was indeed bright; it was like observing a display of fireworks- all the lights and colors.

“I think I may hate this city just as much as you do, Miss,” Jaska said. “I don’t remember much about home- my real home- but I remember the stars. We had a little farm out west and oh, the view at night… Even as a little colt it took my breath away.”

Loress did plenty of lying that night but she didn’t have to lie about some things, “In Terrow… the light pollution is minimal; unless you want to leave the city for a great view you can get a decent view from anywhere. I… miss it. Home…”

He chuckled, “Home is home, but it’s not like you’ve been away all that long… and you’re going home soon enough, too.”

This pained Loress enough to mist her eyes; she hadn’t seen home in three years, the next month, “I suppose…”

Jaska didn’t want to bring it up, but, “How’s Sen?”

Loress didn’t want to think about it, “I’ve been told she’s been coming out of it but…”

“So, she’s still pretty out of it…” he finished for her.

“Yes.”

He pondered, “As I said earlier, I can’t judge you. The world is the way it is, and it’ll take more than a few ponies and a generation’s time, but I pray for the day that slavery is just a bad memory… for everypony.”

This was unlikely and both of them knew it.

“I wish I knew what to say,” Loress mourned.

“You don’t have to say a thing… Still… the future isn’t hopeless as long as ponies like you exist.”

She turned and smiled pleasantly at him, “You give me too much credit.”

He put out his front leg, “Why don’t we have that dance, now? I can’t just keep a gem like you to myself; there’s- as you put- a line.”

She slid her hoof through his offered leg, “Sounds nice.”

The two rejoined the ball.

Clovis began to worry as the tour of the library was petering out. Even with all his stalling and detailed shepherding he was running out of time; the mayor had an obligation to rejoin the party soon (whether he’d even remain at the party or not was another factor that cemented his decision to pull the mission earlier) and visiting the study wasn’t off the table.

“The library contains the oldest collection of books this side of the mountains,” Clovis explained.

A mare touring put it, “With all those savages skulking about in the tropics I wouldn’t be shocked if it was the only library of books south of the mountains!”

The others ate this up; Clovis had to tolerate this to keep up appearances. He wanted to call up Delia, despite the agreement of her contacting him. Though he would warn her if all else failed and the mayor insisted on showing the study; he had little choice.

Turns out he didn’t need to do a thing; the crystal ball glowed, unknown to the others, and he was very glad to hear the tap, tap, tap faintly sounding from his pocket.

He almost gasped in relief; Delia and the mares had gotten the door closed, whatever that entailed.

He’d give them five minutes to be safe and if the mayor wanted to show the study… no big whoop. They had the dirt Melchior wanted and it was possible to access it at their discretion. The mission was successful.

Zyra choked back vomit; she couldn’t help it. But knowing they had the room otherwise spotless she managed to keep it down; they’d spent enough time cleaning up and more than enough time dealing with their discovery.

She hoofed Wilka’s shoulder, “Can you stand?”

The contents of the secret room had shocked Wilka to her core; she looked up with tears in her eyes and nodded weakly.

Zyra helped her up, “Good. I’ll levitate you out of our exit, so don’t worry.”

Delia looked to the bookcase; she couldn’t believe they’d gotten it shut again. They had something Melchior could use against the mayor, at least. Looking to Wilka, she wished the little Pegasus had never seen the things they’d uncovered. Not seeing would have been nice for all of them, really.

The maid had grown to greatly admire the two mares; she kneaded Wilka’s shoulder, “You did good… Both of you did good. Are you ready to leave, Wilka?”

Wilka again recognized Delia’s sympathy; the maid understood her, “Yes.”

“Okay,” Delia took Wilka’s left and Zyra took the right and they led the little mare out.

They could hear the ponies in the library but knew they still had a couple minutes, so they’d take their time ascending; they walked easily to the vestibule they’d used to enter.

But upon reaching the vestibule the rope wasn’t the only thing they saw in the room.

Clovis felt pretty good, telling the ponies about the map collection the library contained; he didn’t give a fuck about the maps but was ecstatic he wouldn’t have to explain to Melchior they’d come out with nothing to show. Melchior was an asshole but Clovis was confident the mares would be free by the end of the night.

Then from the reception area, the clatter of hooves could be heard.

“Hey you little fuckers! What’s going on?” an unwelcome and familiar voice boomed from outside.

Clovis felt his balls disappear.

“Oh, no…” he whispered.

Delia closed the door to the office as quickly and quietly as she could and locked it. Zyra tried to keep quiet but was panting up a storm; she and Delia had to run with Wilka weighing them down.

Propping the little Pegasus into a chair, Zyra blanched, “What’s he doing here?!”

“Keep your voice down!” Delia hissed. “I have no fucking idea what he’s doing here!”

“What do we do?” Zyra whispered.

Delia gulped, “We have faith in Clovis…”

The pony that had instigated the noise staggered around before Clovis and his tour, so drunk it was almost hard to fathom.

“Party’s over, you cocksuckers!” Melchior crowed. “Unless I’m un-uninvited…”

Clovis couldn’t believe his eyes: Melchior was covered in a little of everything, bearing evidence of the kind of night he must’ve had. He was cloaked in leaves, burs, twigs, shit, blood, and Heaven knows what else. There was a river, forest, and two swine farms between his estate and the mayor’s mansion and it seemed he’d crawled through them all.

The shocked partygoers stared at Melchior as if he had appeared out of a bathtub drain with three chickens and a dildo (they were that shocked). Dechaa and Orni registered confusion more than anything else.

Clovis thought and he thought fast; he waved to the tour, “Okay, everypony! Move along downstairs! Nothing to see up here!”

There was something to see but they didn’t argue and began to file away.

Melchior shouted, “I want them to see this! Where’re they all going?!”

“Just a drunk guest!” Clovis called after them, grabbing his boss. “Move along!”

The invitees left… other than Dechaa and Orni, who'd ducked behind a pillar. Once the other partygoers were gone they approached Clovis and Melchior.

Melchior was fucked up, barely even able to hold up his head properly. Clovis looked to the girls, just as confused as they were.

The mayor gaped, looking closely, “Melchior?!”

Melchior took a swing at the mayor with his free hoof, missing by more than a few inches, “Yes, it’s me, you dick!”

The mayor was flabbergasted, “Well, what are you doing here?!”

Melchior appeared weak suddenly, “I needa sit…”

Knowing the room to be “safe” Clovis pointed to the study, “Nior… Ren… Could one of you get the door?”

The mayor turned, having not noticed the mares, “What are you still doing up here?”

Orni had a plausible answer, “I’m a guest of Mr. Clovis, Mr. Mayor.”

The mayor could live with that, “Well… alright.”

They got Melchior inside where he collapsed into a chair.

“Ah… nice chair,” Melchior snuggled in, soiling it with his grimy form.

“Now that you’re nice and comfy, would you mind telling me what in Hell you’re doing here?!” the mayor spouted.

Melchior sat up straight; his fierce eyes flared, “A job!”

To the amazement of those present he made it to his hooves and stumbled across the room.

Reaching the bookcase, Melchior leered at them all, “If you want a job done right… sometimes you gotta just do it personal-like!”

Melchior hoofed a small book on one of the shelves. He was the only pony not surprised by the shelf moving out of the way.

Downstairs, one of the stallions that had just left the tour pulled into an alcove; his eyes darting about, he pulled a tiny crystal ball from his pocket.

“Wind calling Typhoon, Wind calling Typhoon,” he breathed into the ball. “Please respond.”

A few seconds later a voice responded, “Wind, this is Typhoon.”

Wind hissed, “Status?”

Typhoon replied, “We’re waiting for the final word to infiltrate the mansion; we’re ready.”

Wind whispered, “Halt the operation… Melchior’s not at the mansion; he’s with the mayor.”

“At the ball?!” Typhoon sounded shocked.

“Yes…” Wind smiled. “They’re upstairs.”

“Our intel stated he’d been blacklisted from the event!”

“Well, he’s crashed the party, it seems,” Wind mused; then he was deadly serious. “Get here fast and be ready; we’re improvising. I’ll keep you posted.”

Zyra was wiping down Wilka’s brow; the little Pegasus was dozing. Then she heard two mares' screams; she recognized their owners as Dechaa and Orni.

Delia knew what this meant just as much as Zyra.

Mirroring the other’s sickened face, Delia said firmly, “Stay here… keep Wilka safe.”

Zyra nodded.

Steeling herself, Delia slipped out of the office after seeing the coast was clear. She walked the hoofful of steps it took to reach the study.

Surely enough the bookcase was open and the only ponies in the study were Clovis, Dechaa, Orni, the Mayor, and Melchior. She shut the door behind her and locked it.

Delia would’ve given a couple years of her life to not have seen what they’d uncovered behind the bookcase.

Shackles hung from the ceiling, several chairs with restraints lined the walls, and untold numbers of horrible items greeted them. An iron maiden sat in one corner. There was a rack with pullies on either end. Long-dried body fluids, blood and other things, rested here and there, staining the fixtures. Many of the tools littering the place were unidentifiable in their purposes. And worst to be seen were the dried and decayed bodies of several ponies, obviously young fillies, crucified on the far wall.

It was a torture chamber.

Nopony could speak. They took in this appalling sight. Dechaa had vomited, Orni had collapsed, and Clovis was falling back into a chair. Delia stood, a hoof covering her muzzle; she wasn’t sure why… any such smell had long since dissipated.

The mayor stood slack jawed and wet himself.

Nopony could make a sound… other than Melchior.

“Ha, ha, ha…” he began to chuckle.

It sounded… un-Earthly, that laugh. His laughter increased to the point of him falling victim to a coughing fit.

“There! You see?! This is the old ‘fuck- nest’ we used to keep! We ain’t used it in about 13 years, but it looks the same… That filly second from the left? We paid her father two gold coins for her!”

The mayor’s jaw moved, “I… never…”

Melchior cackled, lumbering over to the liquor cabinet, “No, you never would’ve known! Clovis and Delia sure didn’t know! I haven’t been in here for a few mayoral terms; the last few in charge didn’t… share in the pathos of the old entourage so we never told them. And nopony’s read most of these books in years, especially our semi-literate mayors who just use ‘em for decoration, so I figured I could spring this surprise on all of you! It kinda sucks to reveal this, but it’s not like I use the place anymore; it’s simply time to use it to my advantage.”

The others listened, shocked and horrified.

Melchior went on, “Listen, Mr. Mayor! I don’t give a blue fuck that you’re a colt-tickler. I know you are, but I also knew it’d be too hard to catch you at it and I never imagined Delia would be able to find this, so I came myself! You know about the little elevator that goes up the back, I trust? It comes out near the skylight the mares came down through.”

Clovis and Delia were nonplussed; they hadn’t known about an elevator.

“What…?” the mayor struggled to make words, though he knew about the elevator.

“I sent Clovis, Delia, and a bunch of mares to look for evidence of your fetish or anything else to screw you with but it occurred to me after a few drinks that was too much trouble! Why complicate things when the easy solution’s so much more effective?”

Melchior approached the mayor as best he could; his breath smelled of death.

The mayor gulped, eyes darting between Melchior and the fillies on the back wall, “…?”

“I’ll put it to you simple, Mr. Mayor… From now on, you answer to me!”

“What…?”

Melchior cuffed the mayor’s head as he harangued him, “‘What, what, what, what, what, what?’ You sound like some retard! You answer to me… or I reveal your ‘little secret’ that just opened up.”

At this the mayor flared up, “Mine?! If you think that-!”

Melchior had drawn himself a rum, “Oh, I think the city’ll care about the secret fuck-den in your study!”

The mayor gave in quickly enough; he crumpled into the sofa, sobbing like a foal, “What do you want?!”

The others looked on in horror, having retreated to the corners of the study.

Melchior grinned; it wasn’t the fiendish grin he’d been showing them… it was the affable grin he’d first shown the girls, before revealing what he really was, “You know what I want.”

He went up to the mayor and hissed in his ear, “I want that land…”

The mayor was surprised; he’d expected Melchior wanted his heart on a platter or his balls on a plate, “The land?”

Melchior stood back, taking a dram off the rum, “I’ll even pay the proper value of the place to the old family! I won’t fire any of the workers and we’ll build as we see fit!”

The mayor’s “relief” was palpable, “Okay, I’ll pull the bill! The land’s yours! I’ll even make it public!”

Clovis felt sick as he opened his mouth; he didn’t even know what he was doing anymore, “What were you going to announce to the ball once the tour was over?”

The mayor blinked, bemused, “That we were going to be wheeling out a giant cake for everypony to share…”

That was less malevolent than Clovis had believed, “Well… you can announce your decision regarding the land, too. We’ll clean up Mel and make a show of it… You’d best clean yourself up too.”

If Clovis hated himself for this, it was harder to say what the girls thought… It was just too much…

The mayor, taking one last look at the horrors the bookcase had been covering for the several months he’d been mayor and years previous, said, “Okay… Seal up this bookcase and I’ll see it done…”

In the utility room housing the princess, Dechaa, Zyra, Wilka, Orni, and Delia sat in various spectrums of stunned; what a night it had been…

None of them could say a word. The job was done, but…

They’d managed to make it down the back elevator and taken the back way to Essenta but were done; they didn’t even want to move.

Delia sat, wondering what they mayor kept hydrogen cyanide around for. She supposed it didn’t matter; it couldn’t have been worse than what had turned up. Perhaps the poison was from some time in the past, given what they’d seen of the current mayor. But that didn’t matter much, either.

It seemed likely the mayor wasn’t the clever fellow she’d been pondering.

They barely even responded when Clovis stumped in; they didn’t know to love him or loathe him. Clovis knew Delia and her two helpers had discovered the room; she’d told him and the others.

He gulped, addressing the mares, “It’s done… Some of my crew are washing up Mel and…”

The mares didn’t even look back; Clovis felt his head swim.

“And Mel and the mayor will be coming down in a couple minutes to… make the announcement. I made a tonic… and it’s sobered Mel up, more or less.”

The mares still sat, quite unresponsive.

Clovis sighed; he wasn’t sure what to do at the moment but was thinking. He was about to leave.

“Clovis…” a voice came.

He turned, and was unsurprised to see Zyra sitting up the highest; he recalled she’d already seen Hell, “Yes, Zyra?”

She asked him with no accusation or presumption… just exhausted misery, “What’s gonna happen now?”

Clovis had always known Melchior to be wicked, but the things they’d seen and heard that night set his mind in stone, “This is the last thing I ever do for Melchior… Tonight… I’m taking my crew that wants it and we’re leaving this place. Anypony that wants to come with us… is free to do so. Anyplace but here… North, I figure… Not much choice.”

Delia nodded numbly after a moment, “I’m in…”

Clovis nodded, and turned to the company mares, “I… I cannot take back what’s happened… And I don’t expect forgiveness. But I will do everything I can to send you on your way. I’ve called ponies I’d trust with my life… my friends… back at the mansion; they’re freeing Ama as we speak and gathering your supplies. She may not need protecting, but… they’ll spirit Ama and your supplies here. I’ll see you out of here if it kills me. I no longer trust Melchior will honor his word; in fact, I no longer trust him…”

They all nodded slowly.

Clovis looked to his old friend, “Delia… I can have my crew gather your things as well.”

The maid shook her head, “There’s nothing back there I want or need. I have a little money buried nearby I’ll grab. I wish we could bring some others but…”

He finished for her, “They wouldn’t leave Melchior without a fuss… and we need to go immediately."

There was no happiness, no congratulations… not even any relief. But they’d have time for relief later. For the time being, the mares prepared to move Essenta.

If they wound up having to fight those faithful to Melchior… they’d do so.

Clovis made his way out, “We go our separate ways for now; sneak out when you’re ready. Meet at the rendezvous point we discussed earlier.”

Loress was enjoying herself immensely in the skilled hooves of Jaska; the first piece the house orchestra played was a long waltz. They twirled and dipped and laughed.

The piece ended, and Jaska kissed her hoof, “My dear, it was such an honor.”

“It was for me, too,” Loress simpered.

“Well, I hope to dance with you again later, once the line dies down.”

She gave a smile, “That’d be… Oh!”

The orchestra was taking a break; the mayor was coming down the stairs with… Melchior?

Jaska looked up, unaware of Loress’s shock, “Ah… here comes the mayor with his announcement!”

Loress hid her confusion and locked front legs with Jaska, “Oh, I wonder what the surprise is!”

The mayor reached halfway down the staircase; a magic amplifier was positioned there.

Melchior leered, more or less sober, “Now… just as we discussed.”

The mayor looked over the mass of ponies below; what he wouldn’t give to be ignorant of the secret room as they were.

Figuring he might as well get it over with, the mayor began, “Everypony, hello again!”

The crowd cheered; when the mayor had a special announcement, it was usually something good.

“I have two things to share with you! First… our chefs have been working all day on this- a chocolate mousse cake big enough to feed everypony!”

It was big enough for such a thing; several ponies wheeled it out to the roar of the partygoers. It wasn’t jewelry or anything exotic, but it was welcome.

The mayor waited for the applause to die down before going on; he gulped, “It also pleases me to announce that Master Melchior will be assigned stewardship of the old orchard, effective tomorrow!”

Melchior waved, a believable smile on his face.

This wasn’t news anypony had been expecting to hear; the fight over the land had been ugly. But they were sheep and they gave a light, scattered applause. The confusion in the room was heavy but the deed was done.

The mayor shook a little as he turned to Melchior; he was relieved that Melchior was at least looking satisfied.

Melchior grinned at the mayor’s ghostly complexion, “Stewardship… I like the sound of that- good word! The sale of the land will happen soon enough.”

The mayor nodded automatically, hearing the crowd as if it was far away.

Melchior clapped a hoof on the mayor’s back, “Don’t look so glum, pal. There’s no reason this has to be unpleasant.”

The mayor shuddered nonetheless.

Melchior jostled his “pal”, “Hey, c’mon! Play your cards right and we’ll both make millions!

The mayor was about to conclude his statement when something interrupted him.

A dragon, the size of a couple of houses, crashed through the large skylight above; glass and crystal rained down on the party to many a shocked scream.

The ballroom was expansive enough that the dragon was able to slow its descent with a flap of its wings; it came to a gentle rest at the bottom of the stairs. Ponies backed off from the area and looked on in perfect alarm, too freaked out to make further noise.

The dragon’s red-tinted eyes regarded Melchior and the mayor; it blinked once before inhaling.

The two stallions were rooted where they stood; Melchior didn’t have time to wet himself and the mayor already had upstairs, so he was empty.

“Oh… shit…” Melchior managed.

The dragon blew such a blast of fire from within the two stallions were vaporized.

The crowd observed this, many presently soiling their clothes, as the dragon turned around; its steps shook the dust and remaining glass from above and punched holes in the stone staircase.

The dragon spoke, “If I were you… I’d leave.”

The partygoers took the dragon’s offer and ran screaming for the main doors; the staff quickly disappeared out any door they could.

Wind was jostled as he fought his way to an alcove; he had to hold his crystal ball up to his ear to hear a thing over the racket of the panicked ponies.

“-confirm! Wind, can you even hear me, damn it?! Did Death strike true? Please confirm!”

Wind had to put the ball to his lips to make sure he was heard; he still had to yell, “Death struck true! Two rats with one torch!”

“Get out of there; we’re letting Death have it out! Typhoon out!”

Wind allowed himself to be swept up with the crowd and galloped towards the exit.

The noise didn’t go unnoticed by the mares in the side room.

The glass breaking, and the screaming got their attention but the quiet was almost as shocking. Then the sound of something burning reached them, followed by booms that shook the ground.

“If I were you… I’d leave,” came a deep, booming voice.

Before any of them could check the door, they heard the thunder of hundreds of sets of hooves and Clovis burst through the door.

“Dragon!” he gasped.

The racket had gotten their attention, but they were still sluggish; Delia looked up, “Huh?”

“There’s a dragon out there! It just fried Melchior and the mayor!”

“What?!” five mares cried out.

“We need to go, now!” Clovis shouted.

Dechaa nodded, recovering rather quickly, “Okay… Sen’s ready to move; we can go out-”

Clovis shook his head, “We can’t get out that way! We’d be trampled trying to get her out through the ballroom!”

Zyra jumped up, “I know this wall goes to the outside!”

The little mage went about feeling the back wall.

“Yes! Can you get through it?” Clovis wondered.

“Help me find a weak spot! I can’t blast it; it’d cook us. But I can tunnel our way out. I just need a little time and I can make a hole big enough.”

Delia sprang up, “That’s a plan!”

Several of them set about testing the wall while Dechaa and Wilka watched over the princess.

From her spot on the dance floor, Loress had seen all that had happened. And were the ponies around her ever in a rush to get the fuck outta there! Staring at the dragon, she was unyielding as ponies weaved around and crashed into her unshakeable body.

Jaska hooved Loress and tried to run, “Miss Resso! We have to run!”

But Loress wouldn’t budge; she was a Terran after all.

She turned to him, “I need to find my friends…”

“What?” he couldn’t hear her over the din.

“Run, Mr. Jaska!” she pressed him into the surging crowd and saw him carried off; she hoped he’d manage to find his hooves.

Loress didn’t mean to knock any ponies aside but she didn’t exactly watch her step as she barreled along. In the confusion she couldn’t see much of anything, but she tried to reach the utility room; she was reasonably sure where it was.

In the side room Zyra had gone to work on a section of the wall deemed weakest; she wished to move faster but they were safe in there, for a time, at least, and she needed to be careful. Energy beams powerful enough to disintegrate stone took some concentration.

Clovis watched, “The wall’s three feet thick here; at the rate you’re going… we should be fine.

The rest would have to take his word; the commotion outside hadn’t let up.

Outside, the dragon had apparently given into its instincts; it killed nopony else or even hurt any, but it lumbered about, messily eating the fallen crystal chandeliers and other gems around. There was a shitload of edibles scattered around and Loress could see the dragon getting worked up.

She knew that within a moment the dragon would lose control and reason, giving into its lust for treasure and carnage.

It wasn’t known to her if the princess or any of her allies were still within the mansion, but she couldn’t bring herself to leave. She still couldn’t see where the room was; the place was a real mess with the mass evacuation.

Just as things thinned out her fears came true; the dragon fell into a fury and began to approach the last of the guests trying to squeeze out the main doors.

Loress, realizing how foolish it was, bucked a piece of debris towards the dragon. The dragon tensed and halted its pursuit; it turned and looked around.

The Terran realized, as the last of the guests scrambled out, she’d convinced the dragon to stay. It roared and began to stomp around, seeking out the creature that was still hiding.

Shit…

Loress ducked behind a pillar. She knew dragons had a good sense of smell… and hearing, sight, and touch… She could only hide so long, she knew, watching the dragon poke its wagon-sized head into an alcove across the dance floor.

“Great,” Zyra strained. “Only a foot more to go…”

Clovis encouraged her, “Good, Zyra…”

Delia didn’t dare look outside, “Everypony stay quiet… The ballroom’s empty, other than the dragon, but it’s started searching around.”

They had little choice in staying put, but Zyra had made a hole large enough to squeeze through; she just needed to break through.

“I wish Loress was here,” Zyra said with some effort. “She could likely punch us out…”

This was true but the Terran was absent. They prayed she was safe.

Loress was safe enough but the dragon had caught her scent; it snuffled around, eating what gems it came across.

She lamented her situation; even with the excellent smell she couldn’t believe the beast had picked up on hers given how many ponies had been inside.

She saw her way out. She could creep along the wall opposite of the dragon; it would follow where she’d already been. She’d be able to make it to the main door and run. Running was something she could do well enough…

Then she realized the dragon had picked up another scent.

The ponies in the room knew the dragon was nearby but they’d hoped it wouldn’t figure out they were there.

Realizing how wrong they were about not getting sniffed out they felt the room shake as the dragon began to buffet the walls above the door. Dust began to shake from the ceiling, covering them all.

“Move Essenta closer!” Clovis hissed; they may have been located but they might yet benefit from quiet.

They moved the princess closer and tried to press themselves to the back wall.

“Almost there…” Wilka strangled out. “There!”

With a crack, her beam of energy broke through; with an outlet she blasted more freely, opening the hole wider.

Zyra jumped back, “Clovis! Send a blast of ice through!”

He did so; they’d burn otherwise, passing through.

“Done!” he shouted.

As they were poised to exit through the hole the ceiling fell in; some jumped one way and some the other.

Stunned but okay, Dechaa, Zyra, Orni, and Wilka found themselves on the door side of the room. The dragon hadn’t made it through, but the next floor had fallen in on them. A barrier of rubble separated them from the outside wall.

Dechaa threw herself to the debris, “No!”

Zyra pulled her back, “Watch out!”

The rubble shifted, sending up more dust.

Orni stared at the pile, “No…”

A voice came through, “Are you four okay?”

It was Delia.

Dechaa got as close as she dared, “Yes! Are Sen and Clovis?”

Clovis answered, “The princess is already safe outside. Is there any way you can make it over?”

They could see a gap but there was no climbing over.

Zyra called back, “No… And I don’t dare try to move anything.”

They were in trouble.

Dechaa called, “You have to go!”

“We can’t-” Delia began.

The walls started shaking again as the dragon resumed its chore.

Dechaa cried, “GO!”

The four mares dove out of the now broken door, but not before espying the dragon’s location. The dragon seemed preoccupied with the crumbling wall, so they snuck along the intact portion.

Loress had been on pins and needles watching the dragon attacking the room. She’d realized it was her friends in there; there wasn’t any other way to explain it.

She was at once relieved and terrified to see four mares come out beneath the dragon’s hulking frame.

Loress stifled a cry, hoping to not alert her friends or the dragon; she’d continue to sneak out as it was the best option, she felt.

Unaware Loress was across from them the four mares crept along.

The dragon however, noticed them; it roared and swiped at the pillar they’d moved behind.

Screaming, they huddled to the wall but quickly realized they had to keep moving. They’d been far from the main doors to begin with. Moving as fast as they dared, the dragon continued to swipe at them. Neither party had much advantage, given the debris.

Well, the four mares had a distraction on their side.

The Terran ran alongside the dragon, shouting for all she was worth, watching it plumb around wherever it could get its claws and snout.

“Hey! Hey!” Loress wasn’t finding much success in distracting the dragon from her friends.

Zyra sent bolts of energy towards the dragon, keeping it at bay but little else; she could only use her offensive magic effectively when she was able to concentrate… or in times of great desperation (it seemed strange this wasn’t one of those times). Dechaa was too afraid to do much and the other two stood little chance in breaking away. The four of them managed to move, but with nothing but a corner filled with debris waiting for them. It was only a matter of time before the mares were caught; their fate wouldn’t be pretty.

Loress was close to tears in her desperation: her friends were about to die…

She wasn’t sure what compelled her to do the things she did next. Love? Friendship? Duty? Suicidal tendencies? She’d maybe have time to think about it later in the remote possibility she didn’t die.

Beside Loress was a chunk of rubble; determined to catch the dragon’s fancy she aimed and bucked it. The chunk of stone hit the dragon on its rump; the dragon tensed up, diverting its attention from Dechaa, Zyra, Wilka, and Orni.

“Hey, dragon! Yeah, I’m talkin’ to you, you cock-smokin’, clap-havin’, son-of-a-whore motherfucker!” the beautiful Terran hollered in front of the wet bar at the end of the ballroom.

The dragon turned its eyes to the offending mare, seeing her for the first time; its eyes were as rubies in firelight. It turned and sauntered over, shaking the floor with each step until it faced Loress head-on.

“Yeah…” Loress uttered with some baseless conviction that came from who-knows-where. “Look at me… Look at just me, you monster…”

A rumble, which was soon recognized as its growl, emanated from its throat and flame lapped at its lips. It could be felt, just as its stomping around was.

Loress heard her bowels void, facing the dragon, but didn’t really get to appreciate it, even though she could vaguely smell it; she was shaking from her earsies down to her hoofsies and she’d already wet herself at some point. She was good and terrified, and she’d definitely gotten the dragon’s attention.

It was just as big as it looked too.

The dragon reared up a little as it inhaled.

Shit… Loress was in trouble.

It blew forth fire, boiling the empty pool and incinerating the bar instantaneously. But the very occasionally foulmouthed little pony wasn’t there anymore.

Loress may have convincingly sullied her second garment of the night but she didn’t lose her head; she bolted to the side and ran for her life along the other side of the ballroom across from her friends, shielded periodically by pillars.

The dragon roared and moved with astonishing speed and was on her in seconds. Blowing flame hot enough to melt stone, the pillars glowed.

And the wooden trim and various upholstery burned like a grease fire, quickly spreading.

The other mares could see all this from their wall.

“Loress!” Wilka cried out; she could see Loress was about to corner herself as they almost had and tried to bolt for her friend.

“Oh, no you don’t!” Orni held Wilka tight. “There’s nothing you can do! You can’t carry her, and you’d have no chance evading that thing!”

“No…” Wilka’s eyes looked panicked. “We can’t-”

Orni cried out, “We have to go!”

Zyra looked ill, but nodded, “This may be our only chance…”

“We can’t just leave her!” Wilka all but shrieked.

Dechaa nudged Orni to start moving, hating herself for the words that came from her mouth, “We can, and we will! Everypony run!”

Faces ashy with terror and the horrified resignation at leaving their friend, knowing they could do nothing other than die in vain, the other mares held onto Wilka and made a break for the doors. Whether Loress was willing to give her life for her friends or not was immaterial at the moment; it looked like she would either way and the girls ran for it, their shadows dancing in the swelling firelight.

The dragon noticed the four mares making a beeline for the exit and whipped its tail; the swing caught a pillar, bringing it down and trapping the mares. Zyra put up a barrier to hold the debris at bay, but the pillar caught and failed to reach the floor fully. They still had a way out, but it involved moving back and towards the dragon.

Loress realized the dragon wasn’t after her at just that second, “NO!”

It was a good thing Zyra’s next instinct was to raise a heat-shield, as the dragon turned its flame towards the girls. It got hot in there, but the shield held while the mares inside nearly gave into panic; Zyra, knowing her spell would hold, was more concerned about the structure around them dissolving in the high temperature and crushing them.

Both sides of the ballroom were burning, and the fire was hastily reaching towards the high ceiling and beginning to creep towards the now-defunct mare’s former quarters up the staircase.

Even above the din of the fiery blast Loress could be heard, “Oh, no you cunting don’t, paedīcātor!”

Loress wound up her back legs and bucked a chunk of pillar as if it was a ball of yarn and struck the dragon in its side, staggering it.

It was obvious to Loress it hurt, but she wasn’t confident she’d done more than piss it off; its hide was like diamond and its ribs like steel. It rounded on her, eyes full of some deep, animalistic rage, and sprang forward, mouth open, its snake-like teeth flaring out.

Loress realized the dragon wasn’t interested in roasting her; those teeth would shred her.

The other mares looked on in dismay; Loress wasn’t getting out of the way.

What happened next, nopony would likely believe. Loress wouldn’t have believed it herself if she hadn’t been the one to do it. But the four mares, momentarily safe under the heat-shield, would soon believe it too. The Terran wasn’t even aware of what she was doing until it was over.

Loress braced her back hooves, wound up, gritting her teeth, and put all her formidable strength into meeting the dragon’s face with her front right hoof as it rocketed her way.

“RRRRHAAAARGH!!” her hoof contacted the dragon’s upper-jaw.

For the briefest fraction-of-a-second, all was still. Then the dragon’s face- with its scales of diamond, skull of steel, and overall atrociousness - folded over to one side as the snout splintered, its teeth and lifeblood spraying in five directions like piss the morning after sex. The left eye popped clear of the socket, held only by its optical nerve. The bottom jaw caught the floor and unhinged at a full 180 degrees with many a pop and a snap.

Loress didn’t even budge, unless one considers the three hoof-holes she’d stamped into the solid marble floor.

The dragon’s neck didn’t quite break as the skull had, it appeared, but the dragon’s momentum against the immovable Terran brought the body end-over-end, tumbling into the marble floor with an Earth-shattering CRASH that shook the building to its very foundation.

“Holy motherfuckin’… SHIT!” Zyra cried out, dropping the heat-shield in her awed state.

The other girls expressed similar astonishment; the mansion had become a convincing vision of Hell and Loress had just slain “King Shit Demon” with her bare hooves.

The second the dragon’s body impacted the floor Loress was already to the four mares; her gown, coat, tail, and mane were singed, and she was covered ears to hooves in blood and dust, “Don’t just stand there with your hooves down your dresses! We have a path; RUN!”

Whether the dragon was even alive or not, they ran, all right. Screaming as if Hell itself was trying to give them all magma-enemas, the five mares ran; they weren’t taking chances. The roof began to cave in under the incredible heat; built of stone or not, the mayoral mansion was being gutted by the fire.

Within seconds they burst out of the front doors with an eruption of flame following them and galloped onto the forested road. Dechaa was crying in relief; she wasn’t the only one. That had been the most frightening thing on the journey so far and they didn’t even realize it until they were probably safe. The charred, filthy mares wept unabashedly for joy of not being dead. For a short time, they even forgot some of the awful shit they’d seen…

Loress shouted out, “Is Essenta safe?!”

Dechaa choked, “Clovis and Delia got her out!”

A sob escaped from the Terran’s throat, “Oh, thank Heavens!”

Orni called up from the rear, “Loress, how’d you do that?!”

Loress responded, “Terran magic! I can’t believe it worked!”

“Say what?!” Orni had a hard time wrapping her mind around that.

“Later! Just run…!” Loress wasn’t interested in much else at that moment, crying like a 4-year-old who’d just shit her pants on the playground. “Oh, I thought I was gonna die back there!”

Zyra was panting, gasping laughter, eyes streaming, “Loress… that was the first time I’ve heard you say anything in your own language!”

“Yeah!” Loress breathed easily (recall her stamina). “I always forget you can speak Terran… among other things…”

“Well, it’s never been necessary in our travels! But you…! You called the dragon a ‘butt-fucker’! ‘Paedīcātor’!” Zyra yelled.

“Well, close enough, I did…” the Terran responded, a huge grin on her face.

The little mage was bursting with all sorts of indescribable feelings; her cackle might have been heard for miles around, “Ha, ha! It’s good to be alive! Paedīcātor, paedīcātor,paaaaaaaedīcātoooooooooooooooor! Yippee-Ki-Yay, uh…!”

Loress looked over, laughing fit to bust, “Yippee-Ki-Yay, what?”

Zyra looked sheepish, “How do you say ‘motherfucker’ in Terran?”

Loress pondered, suddenly serious, “I don’t think there’s a word… It doesn’t translate…”

“Whatever! You called the dragon that too! Yippee-Ki-Yay!” Zyra wasn’t letting that ruin their moment.

Loress joined her in the cry and the two yipped and howled and gibbered, increasing their speed.

Wilka and Orni felt something rise inside, matched the pace, and screamed as one, “Wahoo!”

Dechaa hollered as she upped her own gallop, looking back at the crumpling mansion with much distaste, “Fuck this city! Burn, baby, burn!”

With rebel yells that shook the changing leaves from the trees the girls tore through the woods.

Somewhere up ahead was the rendezvous point; they wouldn’t slow down until they got there.

Author's Note

Check out the Appendix for Princess Essenta, updated as the story moves along. It shows the story's timeline and character designs. Contains spoilers.

With a showing of tremendous lady-cojones and raw power, Loress has turned a dragon's head to flesh-pudding and left the beast to bake in an oven of its own creation, that also successfully destroyed the horrors the night uncovered. Free of Melchior's grip the girls must now deal with the aftermath of the wild night.

The journey continues chapter after next.

The Terran language is just Latin, but I'm sure many might've figured that from the start, given "Terra" means 'Earth'.

And things sure jumped around a lot. I hope it was crazy enough for you.

If you enjoy Princess Essenta, please take a look at Larkspur Blossom. A story of a colt finding his worth and making a better life for himself.

Also look for The Virgin Company. A tale of a military pony and his platoon in a war centuries ago.

Like, follow, or leave a comment if you please. It's been fun writing and I'm glad some enjoy it.

Thanks for reading, and take care.

Chapter 34: In the Hills

"Last Chance" Stopover Arc

The five mares that escaped from the flaming mansion found the meeting spot Clovis had designated in case things “went wrong”; it was a simple matter of Clovis calling a couple of his crew and telling them to prepare it. Had things gone as planned the ponies would’ve gone back to Melchior’s estate by carriage. But life and even death wouldn’t be all that interesting if things went smoothly.

Loress, the only one not winded from the run, led Dechaa, Zyra, Wilka, and Orni out of the woods; they looked like Hell. They were pleased-as-pie to see Clovis and Delia sitting by a campfire, Essenta resting on a cot at the edge of the clearing, with a couple of Clovis’s crew rifling through a box.

Clovis couldn’t believe it, “You’re alive?!”

The girls cast him a set of very dirty looks as they stood, trying to catch their breath.

Loress’s first order of business was to free herself from her nauseating gown; she’d been stewing in her own juices since the dragon had started hunting her in the ballroom, “Oh, ish!”

Tearing off the filthy gown without reservation she hoofed it into the campfire and ran—her cream-colored coat not looking so clean—back into the woods, without so much as a hello to the now-dead Melchior’s former minions. There’d been a little creek a short jaunt away from the clearing; a cold-water bath was in order. None of the other girls—as hard to believe as it is—shat themselves but added their own garments to the fire.

Delia stood up, “Oh, thank goodness you got out!”

Wilka, wearing the gown she was, needed help; Delia began to peel the gown off when Wilka cried out.

Delia let up, “Are you alright?”

Wilka winced as Zyra helped cut the gown off; the Pegasus hissed, “How did I not notice this earlier?”

Zyra didn’t need to run her hoof across Wilka’s ribs; it was obvious she had some fractures. Delia grimaced at the injury.

Dechaa examined the spot, “Well, it must’ve been your adrenaline… You were so jacked up you didn’t even feel it.”

The little Pegasus gasped; even breathing hurt, “I guess it happened when the ceiling came down.”

She screwed up her face in concentration and Dechaa recoiled as the sharp, lumpy section of Wilka’s ribcage snapped and popped and again appeared normal. The little Pegasus yelled in a convulsion, her face livid as a vein popped on her neck.

Zyra laughed, “Oh, geez… We haven’t seen that in a while!”

Wilka fell to her flank, gasping, tears of exertion streaming from her eyes, “Oh, I hate fixing ribs! It’s the worst thing, actually…”

Delia blanched, pointing with a shaky hoof, “What the fuck was that?!”

Dechaa sure wasn’t laughing, “Wilka’s a regenerator, Delia… She can—”

The maid’s shocked expression didn’t go away, “Yeah… she can do that…”

Of the girls that had just arrived Dechaa’s hysteria had worn off the most, but she still eagerly sprinted off with the others to find the little river.

Clovis called to his crew, “Hey, did you bring the extra tunics and towels and stuff I asked you to?”

“Oh, yeah, Clovis!” one called back.

“In that case…” Delia presented her back to Clovis. “Help me out of this…”

Clovis stared at the well-formed back of his friend. They were ponies but the thought of Delia in the buff was still rather splendid…

She blushed, just a little in the firelight, “Stop eye-humping me, Clovis! Get me outta this fucking hooker costume!”

“Okay!” he’d been gawking.

In a few seconds she was out of the cocktail waitress outfit and kicked it into the fire.

Clovis was aghast; the lovely—and very expensive—gown had been almost pristine, despite all the trouble of the night, “If you were just gonna burn it, why’d you make me loosen it?”

Delia could’ve ripped her way out but said, “It was easier that way.”

She ran the same way the others had, Clovis watching her go.

Clovis sighed. What a night it had been.

Delia, trotting into the woods, very briefly lamented the loss of the gown; she’d loved it (and could’ve sold it for a few ounces of gold). But Clovis giving her the creepy eyes, though she didn’t not enjoy the attention, compelled her to cast it aside.

Clovis sat away from the campfire; he had a reasonably sure feeling the five mares—and possibly Delia—weren’t interested in looking at his face for a while. His crew had also brought stew and bread at his request; he knew the girls would do well with a hot meal.

But on his mind the most was the fact that the arguably two most powerful ponies in town were dead… from getting vaporized by dragon fire. He’d only told his most trusted ponies about that; the rest of the household would find out soon enough as would the whole city, those that didn’t know already. The hundreds of panicked guest scrambling around town and the mayoral mansion inferno were rather obvious.

He also had a difficult time believing Loress had killed a dragon, but there it was…

By the fire, Delia stared into a bowl of stew, most thankful for food, “So… that’s what happened…”

The maid had seen more crazy shit in her life than she cared to recall so the fact Loress slew a dragon with a punch to the face wasn’t unfathomable.

The other girls were sobered; their excitement wore off with the grime in the frigid water of the creek. All they wanted was warmth and food and each other; they huddled in the fresh tunics.

Loress had been reviewing her actions against the beast, “Yeah, I… It’s not like I haven’t done it before.”

Zyra was most curious, “How do you mean?”

Loress nibbled on a chunk of bread, “Terran magic… We can make ourselves as stone—immovable. It works on most anything to attack us, regardless of size.”

Wilka’s eyes lit up, “So it’s not just some old pony tale; that’s how you took that punch that broke my leg…”

Delia shuddered, casting a glance to Wilka, “And I suppose you fixed that yourself, too?”

Zyra could well remember that, “Oh, that was a sight! Remember how Cap threw up?”

Loress snorked, “Oh, yes… It’s not like any of us was ready to see that… It’s also how I took her punch, the first time we met.”

Dechaa put in, “That should’ve shattered her leg up to the shoulder. I guess that’s how you stopped Ama in her tracks, too.”

Loress nodded.

Zyra chuckled grimly, “And your strength sent her halfway across the yard into a hay bale…”

Loress poked at her stew, “Yup…”

Zyra quit laughing, taking on a miserable look; her normally dull eyes danced with firelight, “That’s also how you… pulped that stallion the night of the raid… the one Ama pitched to you…”

Loress nodded slowly, “That’s exactly how I did that…”

The mares that bore witness to that night shuddered. Delia didn’t even want to ask about it, seeing Zyra. There were an awful lot of things the mares shared.

The girls had only touched on it briefly, the finding of the room. Loress was horrified by it, almost put off her late-night dinner. The struggle to reset the bookcase had been most daunting; a very powerful magic—presumably to keep ponies out—had rendered the skilled Zyra’s attempts insignificant. And still, that had been all but rubbish, in the end.

Delia, whether the sentiment was shared by the rest or not, saw the night as one sick, long joke. They’d planned and planned, only to have everything fall apart and end in cataclysmic fire. Melchior had arrived on a drunken whim and rendered all their trouble worthless. All the violence, anxiety, hurt feelings, and misery… for nothing.

Melchior was dead, the evil fellow he was, but their hard-pursued freedom rang hollow.

And now they were sick, tired, huddled in the woods, their leader a mess, never waking for more than a moment and not making any sense…

The little company cursed its fortune.

But things got a little brighter.

“My friends!” a voice called from the nearby path.

Ama emerged from the brush, pulling their supplies in their wagon, a big grin on her face.

Almost dropping their dinner, the five company mares rushed to see their friend; crying and buffeting the tall mare, they carried on a moment.

Ama lifted Zyra’s chin, looking into her steely eyes, “Oh, it is so good to see you…”

Zyra nodded and nuzzled in.

“It is good to see all of you,” Ama’s impressive reach allowed her to embrace all five of her friends at once. “And it is good to be out of that little box…”

Behind Ama came a couple stallions, pulling small carts laden with food and blankets.

Clovis approached, “Nopony saw you?”

One of them shook his head, “No… most everypony is asleep. But it’s only a matter of time before the rest of the crews and household hear about this…”

Clovis hoofed his shoulder, “But you got Ama and the gear out with no problems. Good job.”

The other recently-arrived stallion hoofed the back of his neck, “The town’s in an uproar, though… You can see the burning mansion for miles, I bet…”

Clovis sighed, looking to the girls, “Well, we’ll just have to deal with that.”

Reluctantly, Clovis approached the mares.

Clovis addressed Ama, “How are you, Ama?”

The rest of the company mares eyed Clovis as if he were a long-dead squirrel stinking up the chimney on the first cold day of Autumn.

But Ama beamed before becoming thoughtful, “I am well, Clovis. I was surprised but delighted when your friends came for me, but I soon determined things must have gone deathly wrong for them to ‘spring’ me.”

Clovis exhaled, “Things went about as wrong as possible… beyond imagining, really.”

“I suppose we have a lot to discuss," Ama considered. "Your friends told me little, but our concern was leaving the estate discreetly.”

Clovis, much to the other mares’ dislike, helped relieve Ama of her harness, “Go sit down with your friends. Have some stew. I’ll see your gear’s squared away.”

Ama smiled pleasantly at Clovis, “Oh, thank you, Clovis.”

“It’s a small thing… After all this it’s such a small thing…” Clovis murmured as he slunk off.

None of the company mares were gaga over Clovis and his crew near their supplies but were less at odds with everything now that their friend was among them again.

“Some stew would be most welcome. But first…” Ama left the gaggle of mares to approach Essenta.

With sadness in her sharp eyes and a look of worry, she knelt next to her leader, examining her bandaged brow, “Oh, no…”

“Yes… it’s a very nasty wound,” a voice came.

Ama jumped a little, having dropped her guard; she looked to the edge of the clearing.

Delia had excused herself while the friends reunited; she’d been getting fresh water from the creek (upstream from where they’d bathed, of course), “I’m sorry, Ama, for startling you. I’m glad to see you out of that cage.”

The other mares watched with interest.

Ama cocked her head, “You must be…”

“I’m Delia… Delia Elias,” the maid offered the brawler her hoof. “It’s good to finally meet you.”

Ama, despite her upset over the princess, bucked up a bit and shook hooves, “Delia… I am Ama Waterfall. It is very good to meet you. But, excuse me, what a strange family name…”

Delia was charmed by Ama’s way, “Oh… yes. Where I come from, only noble families hold family names. We just take our fathers’ names. I’m Delia, daughter of Elias, so I just go by Delia Elias.”

Ama nodded, “My clan is ‘Waterfall’, so I suppose I can relate to having no true family name. There is no inventiveness to the name… My clan does reside in the shade of a spectacular waterfall.”

The Mazan was certainly interesting to the maid, “It’s actually amazing to me that all your friends have family names, but not all places are like the little corner of the world I’m from… or where you’re from.”

“Indeed… I have heard much about you. Thank you… Thank you for helping see my friends through this.”

Delia, like Clovis, wasn’t feeling too deserving of thanks, “You shouldn’t be so quick to thank me… This turned out to be one Hell-of-a mess.”

Ama was adamant, “You and Clovis kept Essenta safe and did your best; for that I am grateful.”

Delia decided to take the gratitude, “Well, you’re most welcome. The princess… she has a concussion but with your friends’ skills we should be able to help her. But don’t worry about that now; you’re hungry and we do have much to discuss.”

Knowing little of what had transpired that night Ama heard all there was to hear.

The Mazan wasn’t put off eating but didn’t relish much of anything that had happened, “Such a world we live in… This city will be turned upon its head! Still, I am glad you are all safe. And Loress! I almost regret the histories may never learn of your feat… I cannot imagine facing a dragon.”

Loress lounged against a tree-stump, “I’m having trouble yet… I still can’t believe I’m alive and sitting here… I’ve never been so scared in all my life…”

Nopony else could hardly believe it all either; that night would be difficult to top.

Clovis’s voice came from the edge of the clearing, “Girls, I need to get back to the mansion. Things are crazy in town and I need to help establish order. Delia, you can stay here tonight; there’s nothing you can do back at the estate tonight so rest well. My crew has found a cave up in the hills a way; it’s dry, warm, hidden. Stay here tonight, and if you don’t wish to stay in town I’ll send a few to help you resituate in the morning.”

Zyra was feeling less than receptive to Clovis, “Great… Send somepony in the morning to show us. I’d rather fuck a cactus than stay in your ‘city of magic’ another moment.”

The girls were a little surprised by Zyra’s response, even if they felt the same way, though perhaps not to the extreme of sweet, sweet whoopie with cacti. Delia frowned towards the mage, considering her manner.

Clovis lowered his head, “I understand. I’ll send along something to eat as well. As long as you’re in the area I’ll see all of you fed, watered, and warm. There’s blankets, fruit, a little wine, and some fresh water in the crates we brought. Keep the princess warm and watch her stitches… but I trust you know that.”

He left with his couple of crew members.

Delia wanted to say something to Zyra but was beaten to it by Ama; the Mazan didn’t look angry as much as dismayed, “Zyra… such a thing to say…! Do not be so rash. It would not hurt to think of Essenta; we would be better off housing her somewhere safer, especially if the weather turns on us. And treating Clovis in such a way!”

Zyra was very glad Ama—her best friend—was among them again but had little patience for reprimands, “Ama… while you’ve been getting three hots and a cot we’ve been jerked around in Melchior and Clovis’s stupid game. Don’t come here after all that and tell me to play nice with that asshole. And that city? To Hell with the whole place! It’s toxic…”

Before anypony could respond Zyra stood up and went to one of the crates Clovis had specified; she took a blanket and curled up in a corner of the campsite.

Ama looked hurt but the rest were just a little more sympathetic to Zyra’s leanings.

Loress was kind of supposed to be in charge with the princess down and she should’ve overridden Zyra but agreed wholeheartedly; she looked to Ama, “That was, perhaps, harsh but I’d rather hide in some dry cave in the hills than shack up in that disgusting city.”

Delia may have been offended; it was her home. But who was she kidding? Fuck the place.

To initiate peace Delia put a hoof on Ama’s shoulder, addressing her and the rest, “Everypony… it’s been a rough day. Get a blanket and get some rest. I’ll watch over the princess and all of you a couple hours… but I’ll need another to take over after a while; I’m exhausted myself.”

Loress sighed and put a hoof up, “I’ll do it.”

Noting Dechaa nodding off despite the drama the Terran figured she’d wake Dechaa in four or five hours for the third watch.

Too tired to argue and satisfied enough the girls took to sleeping.

Delia warmed a little water and after removing Essenta’s bloodied bandage she again washed her brow, which wouldn’t stop leaking. At times like this, as she was wrapping a fresh bandage on some princess from 2,000 miles away, she wished she drank; a little wine would’ve been nice in the night chill and forgetting the mayhem of the last couple days wouldn’t break her heart.

The next morning Clovis’s crew got the seven company mares to the cave with little time to spare. A storm had been riding the mountain range throughout the night and they barely missed getting soaked. But they had a cozy cave, plenty of firewood, and enough good food and drink to last them a few days on top of Clovis offering to feed them until they were back on the road. Looking out at the crappy weather almost had them wishing they had a proper roof over their heads… and maybe a full, open bar.

The six mares plus their sleepy leader were warm enough and safe enough but not very comfortable. While a majority of them had made do with their situation Zyra was further refining her foul mood from the night before; while most of the girls weren’t interested in imbibing, Zyra had taken personal possession of the wine given them.

It was only midmorning and the little mage was already three winds to the sheet, “Oh, this fuckin’ rain! I’m so sick of the bad weather…!”

The girls were content to leave Zyra to herself. Zyra didn’t normally drink heavily—whether due to her mood souring or something else—and if this was the way she’d act with a little booze they were glad for it.

Sure, the weather sucked but until that morning they’d had smooth sailing as far as that went. But nopony was getting into a pissing contest with the drunken mage.

Of greater concern was the princess. She’d still made little sense even after more than 12 hours since her concussion. The bleeding had stopped but she proved—to the dismay of Dechaa—to have sensitivity to light. Even the light of the fire in the dark cave was overwhelming and they’d moved her to a corner. Other than complain and grunt and eat and drink a little she’d slept fitfully.

Dechaa the Abstemious and Zyra the Blotto—before getting sloshed—had gone searching around the woods for something of antibiotic substance. There’d been no time for Essenta to get an infection but preemptive action against such things might avoid a fever in the next couple days. The late autumn saw little left herbs of use and the heavy rain hindered their endeavor.

It was a good thing they had an angle.

“Shit-on-a-shingle!” somepony tumbled into the cave from out of the storm. “Climbing up here sucked! Might as well scale a waterfall!”

The visitor’s coming was no surprise; with no medicine to be found in the forest somepony needed to get it.

Delia cast aside her drenched cloak and shook off like a dog, “You really shoulda just come back to town!”

Whether this was true or not they were stuck in the cave until Essenta was better or the weather cleared.

Dechaa came up, “Delia, did you get what I asked?”

Delia hoofed over a small package, “I managed to keep it dry… It’s a good thing the apothecary Melchior worked with doesn’t ask questions…”

This didn’t seem beyond the pale; working for Melchior had been a hazardous occupation and nothing requested would be all that unusual.

Delia also produced a food-bag, “I’m guessing you’re already tired of stew, so I brought some fixings for shepherd’s pie… and a couple jugs of rum.”

Loress eagerly hoofed the bag, “Oh, shepherd’s pie… I’ve been craving some all week!”

Delia wrung out her messy mane, “Oh, and I’m staying with you guys today. If you or Clovis think I’m going back down the mountain in this shit weather, you all can kiss my little horsey ass!”

Ama patted her shoulder, “There is no need for theatrics, Delia. You are most welcome. Now… did you say something about rum?”

While Zyra simmered off to one side of the cave and Essenta slept in the corner the rest of the mares gladly sat around the fire, passing around one of the jugs of rum… other than Delia the teetotaler.

Ama savored every drop, “Superb! Could I venture a guess the brothers from the pub made this?”

Delia let out a little belch, munching an apple, “You know it! I’d heard you liked their new ale but if you think I’d drag a keg of that stuff up here, you can—”

Loress was fussing over lunch, retrieving goods from their food-bags, “Yes, yes… we can all take turns kissing your little, purple horsey ass.”

Dechaa saluted, “Her words almost exactly!”

Wilka and Orni giggled into their hooves; Dechaa was a hoot-and-a-half when she had a little too much to drink, in which she was doing more than dabbling.

Ama sniffed the air, “Is that… peach cobbler?”

Loress called from the other end of the cave where she had another fire going; she’d grown tired of trying to cook with everypony lurking around the main fire, “Sure enough. Dessert. I was going to surprise you but there’s no hiding the aroma.”

Wilka grinned, “Peaches… Orni, can you believe we’d ever see fresh peaches this time of year?”

Orni shook her head, not displeased, “That’s the south for you.”

Delia poked the fire, turning a log, “That’s probably all we’ll see the rest of the year… maybe for good. Since Melchior and the mayor got evaporated nopony knows what might happen with some of the town’s interests, especially the old orchards.”

Loress joined them around the fire, leaving the shepherd’s pie and cobbler to bake, “Those two’ve been dead 13 hours and they’re already back to politics…”

Delia stared into the fire, “That’s why Clovis was up all night. Sure, everypony was shocked to shitting their clothes last night but in times of… well, emergency those running the show are quick to try and put things back on track.”

“It makes sense…” Loress put in.

“But the weirdest thing… isn’t even known by the townsponies…” Delia offered.

They didn’t much like this; Loress was the only one willing to engage, “Now what?”

Delia shuffled in her spot, unwilling to even say what she had to; it was impossible, “You girls were the only ones we know that saw Loress fight the dragon. It’s… Well, it’s… It’s gone.”

The casual chatting ceased, snacks and drink halted mid-consumption.

Wilka blinked, “Wait… Did you just say… the dragon was gone?”

Delia’s mouth was sagged open, staring at the fire; she nodded slowly.

Orni couldn’t help herself, “That’s impossible! Loress killed that thing! Its brains came out and everything!”

To the astounded group Delia reaffirmed, “Well, it’s gone.”

Wilka stammered, “B-b-b-b-but the damn thing crumpled! It crumpled and splintered! I mean, Loress caved in the head!”

The dragon-killer stared listlessly into the flame, “Could somepony have moved it?”

Zyra was shitfaced but still had ears, “That’s almost impossible! It would take a whole team of unicorns to even clear all that rubble; the whole place fell in! And moving it would be incredibly hard! It’d take masters to do that…”

Orni had trouble forming the words, “Could it… have lived and run away?”

Loress was fairly sure of it, “I can’t see how any creature would be able to survive that…”

Delia tried to push things ahead, “Well, it’s gone and the townsponies—ignorant to Loress turning its head to pudding—figure it just killed Melchior and the mayor and then disappeared once it’d wrecked up the place.”

The seven of them sat, trying to make sense of it all. Was the beast alive? Did somepony move it? And what would that entail?! This would be difficult to put out of mind, but they’d try. After all, lunch was ready.

Lunch and dessert were good but were dulled by the shocked confusion regarding the dragon “disappearing” on them. Once lunch was over there wasn’t much to do other than sit around and drink. Dechaa and Zyra hadn’t let up and were beginning to grow more acerbic.

Delia, knowing Dechaa was in no shape to take care of her best friend, tended to Essenta for the time.

While Ama, Loress, Wilka, and Orni contented themselves nearby the two unicorns were playing vulture. Drunk and upset they only served to work themselves up.

Zyra glowered, unable to take her eyes off her old friend’s sleeping face, “All this shit… just all this shit…”

Dechaa nodded nearby, just as surly.

Zyra liked Delia, but she didn’t understand some things about the maid; she breathed down her neck, “What the fuck do you see in that coward anyway?”

Delia knew Zyra was referring to Clovis; she’d been complaining of little else the entire day. There was a lot she’d like to say but thought better of it. She didn’t even waste time giving the fuming mage a full response.

Delia applied a fresh wet cloth to Essenta’s forehead, upon cleaning her head wound, “You may love him… hate him… I don’t really care. He can be such a fool; sometimes I want to strangle him but other times… there’s nopony I’d rather have watching my flank.”

Dechaa grumbled at this.

Delia didn’t even look up, “You all came out alive in the end. You came through it…”

Zyra simmered, eyeing Essenta, “You call all this shit we’ve been in coming through?”

Delia glanced towards Zyra, “Little mage… there’s something you and Dechaa should know… When Clovis realized the ceiling was about to fall in on us, he could’ve run out of the hole you put in the wall; he had time. But he didn’t try to save himself… or me and I can’t hold that against him. He pushed Essenta through that hole, no magic. Clovis isn’t the kind of unicorn to respond at once with magic, if you haven’t noticed; it’s not his reflex. Once he knew there was nothing we could do for you he pushed me through and then came out himself… I wanted to try to help you, but he knew we couldn’t.”

The Dale mares were halted in their thinking; they were yet bitter but…

Delia tucked Essenta’s covers up to her chin, “Just remember that things went as badly for him as they did for any of us.”

Dechaa and Zyra, knowing Delia wasn’t completely wrong, went off to sulk, thoughts dimmed by their alcohol veils. Delia hated to see them slink off, so upset, but had wanted them to go away quickly. The unicorns weren’t themselves… Rather, they were themselves in the deep, dark places nopony wants to think about, but they were better than this; they were just showing their worst, was all.

The maid was considering taking a nap; the schlep up the mountainside had been about as much fun as falling into three feet of pig shit off the roof of a barn.

“Delia,” a voice came from over her shoulder.

Delia turned, not unsurprised to see Loress, “Yes?”

“Could we talk?” the Terran held up a flask of cordial.

Happy enough to deal with somepony unaffected by drink she’d join Loress, “Sure.”

Leaving Essenta to sleep and the rest to drink and/or brood the two mares went off near the entrance to the cave, where it was a little cooler.

Taking a swig of the strawberry cordial, Loress exhaled, “Delia, about the girls…”

Delia shook her head, “Dechaa and Zyra aren’t upset with Clovis and me for no good reason, Loress… but I know they’re just tired, upset… drunk, feeling screwed over… No need to go on about it.”

Loress was okay with leaving the subject alone, “Okay…”

Delia took the flask, “This’ll be my tenth winter here, I guess… 10 years… When you say it like that…”

Loress diverted, not wanting to think about the passage of time, “I imagine winters are pretty different from where I come from.”

“Terrow? Yeah, you all have that mild, snowy weather. Around here, other than the rain off the mountain about now… It’s just dry, bleak, and chilly.”

But Loress wanted to say it anyway, “This week… This week, Delia… it’s three years since I left Terrow.”

Delia glanced over in the dimness, “I don’t know everything, but it’s kind of odd for a Terran maid to be off adventuring—or whatever it is you’re all doing—when you’re 20-years-old. Shoot, by the time I’ve paid off my debt—it doesn’t just go away with that lunatic dead—I’ll be 20. Half the maids working the estate are married or engaged and I can’t marry until I’m free. Some stallion could come along, buy my freedom, and marry me but that sure hasn’t happened.”

Loress wanted to deflect Delia’s initial topic and talk about the maid, but decided not to, “When a Terran turns 17 we’re allowed to join the military. My family runs a stable; we have for a couple centuries. The name’s not ‘Claystable’ for nothing, though the place was rebuilt in 4610 out of granite. But ever since I was a filly I wanted to join the army. I didn’t really think about the killing and exerting the will of Terrow I'd have been doing; I was just a kid. But I wanted to join the army and tried.

“The problem is… I’m small and weak for a Terran mare. I worked… trained… got to the point I could outfight seasoned stallions, but strength is paramount. I could’ve stayed home… helped run the stable… met somepony… get married… have a few foals that would already be taller than me in nine or 10 years… grow fat and old…”

Delia couldn’t help but giggle, “That doesn’t sound like such a bad life… but you make it sound boring.”

“That’s why I wanted to join the army. When I failed again and again I got angry and left home. And to make a long story short I just kept putting off going home… I know I’ve grown up some; I’m not the 17-year-old that ran bawling out of town with a rucksack anymore. But before I knew it I was a thousand miles from home, doing most anything to make a little money. When the princess and her friends came across me, they found me guarding a toll-bridge. That was before meeting Wilka and Orni…”

“And here you are,” Delia mused. “Still far from Terrow in some cave in the southern mountains…”

Loress took a dram of the cordial, “Yup.”

“You really are a fine cook, you know…” Delia complemented.

“That’s me…” Loress simpered self-deprecatingly. “Strong as all Hell and decent with the spice rack.”

Delia frowned, “Don’t think that way…”

But Loress wanted to talk about something else, “So… what’s gonna happen with the estate, the city, and all that?”

Delia stared into the gloom, “Well, it might surprise you… it surprised me… but Pallo’s alive.”

Loress took a few seconds to register, then she remembered he was the colt Melchior neutered; they’d been so shocked by the act they barely remembered the colt himself after a time, especially with everything else, “He’s alive?!”

“And still in the mansion. He’s healing up. I actually had to fetch some medicine for him before I dragged ass up here.”

“So, he’s got the estate, now?!” Loress questioned.

“Yes…” Delia looked nonplussed. “Melchior meant to send him away but hadn’t written him out of his will or anything so… it’s his.”

“Oh, my…” Loress stared forward, jaw dropped a little.

“Clovis has a bunch of his crew watching over him, now. Most don’t even know about what happened, but they know he’s next in line for Melchior’s fortune. It's not beyond the pale somepony might go after his life in the confusion.”

“Huh…” Loress continued to stare.

“As far as the mayoral situation goes, the deputy-mayor was sworn in this morning… and was none too pleased about it,” Delia took a drink.

“I can’t imagine he would be, coming in after that…”

“But the continuity of power is being held up… it’s just a matter of keeping the peace while everypony is running around blinded by shock.”

Loress poked the floor, nudging at a pebble, “I imagine Clovis will have his hooves full this week then…”

Delia sighed, “My concern isn’t Melchior’s official business; Clovis runs that anyway and it’s under Pallo’s name now. I’m worried about the shit Melchior did on the side, though I shouldn’t say ‘on the side’; that’s all he did, leaving everything else to Clovis.”

“The old ‘power abhors a vacuum’ thing, eh?” Loress grimaced.

“I don’t know what’s gonna happen with that…” Delia lamented. “I’m… worried.”

Loress chose to ask what she’d been thinking upon considering deflection, “Delia… I have a question.”

Delia sneered, “And I have a feeling the princess asked me already but go ahead.”

“What’s going on between you and Clovis?”

Delia considered the flask, now empty of its strawberry goodness; she tossed the flask aside, where it clinked out of sight, “It’s complicated, Loress.”

“It just seemed funny to me,” Loress didn’t want to make eye-contact. “The first time I saw you, in Melchior’s dining room, you blushed when Clovis addressed you…”

“And I giggled too, if I recall,” Delia blushed that moment. “That… was… mostly an act. It helps I wasn’t pissed off at him. Remember that, well, ‘essence’ he gave off? That had you all feeling he was so together? Well, he is good at his job and when he’s not rattled he has what us girls like to call ‘supernatural charm’; even I’m not immune to it and I’ve known him and his horseshit since we were 8-years-old together.”

Loress finally dawned recognition, allowing herself an uncharacteristically lewd manner, “So that’s why you were creaming over him like the rest of us…”

Delia scowled, definitely pink in the cheeks, “I wasn’t creaming over him; it’s just resisting his charm is nearly impossible when he lays it on. Even without it, though… he’s quite the ladies’ stallion.”

Loress found that hard to buy, “Seriously?”

“They're all over him. His crew jokes about him being withers-deep in pussy... I think the princess was the first mare outside of the business to rattle Clovis, but otherwise he has his pick of the fillies and mares in town. Like I said... I can see through him most of the time.”

“So, you are just friends…” Loress pondered.

“Like I said, it’s complicated,” Delia huffed. “He is my friend and despite me always being at his throat we’re best friends. I didn’t give in to his pulling me into that stupid operation because I owed him anymore… but because he’s my friend… and I love him like a brother.”

Loress could understand friends loving each other as siblings might but something else had gotten her attention, “‘Owed him’?”

Delia slouched, exhaling heavily, “That’s the ‘complicated’ part and it’s a long story.”

Loress looked out; the storm was intense, “I think we have time.”

Delia laughed at that; she knew Loress wasn’t pressing and she wasn’t keen on explaining but she decided she would, “Mom died when I was 6-years-old. I told you all my dad was a gambler… a swindler… and he was. But before that he was a doctor, if you can believe that. Before he taught me how to lie, cheat, steal, and sneak around he taught me about medicine.”

Loress figured somepony had taught her, considering her dealing with Essenta, “You do seem to know quite a bit.”

“Clovis and I often find ourselves fixing up the staff. We had to call in a doctor to save Pallo from bleeding to death, but we can handle most anything. But I only knew about half the stuff Dechaa wanted for Essenta.”

“Hmm…” Loress hummed.

“I don’t know where my dad learned some of the things he did… Maybe from when he was a kid… But coming here, he was outclassed. But you’ve heard all that.”

Loress certainly remembered; her father, Elias, must’ve been pretty desperate to sell his filly into servitude for his debts… and pretty selfish.

Delia crossed her hooves, still slouching, “After he had the accident and died, I was pretty shaken up… I was scared and desperate to get out. I wasn’t thinking clearly at all in retrospect. I mean, where was I gonna go?! I wanted money to get out of here sooner so I… I sold my virginity to some rich stallion about a week after I turned 15.”

Loress cringed, “Oh, my…”

“And I got paid really well for it too,” Delia stared at her hooves. “I got paid so well I decided to sell myself on the side, working the mansion otherwise. It’ll sound messed up and it is, but I was fortunate with that first stallion; he only wanted to screw some filly, nothing else. He didn’t roll me or abuse me or anything and I was stupid enough to think it would be easy to make money that way.”

Loress had some awful ideas of where this went and wasn’t far off in her thinking.

Delia looked sad and tired, “After I got messed up and hurt a couple times I got involved with this pimp. I knew he’d protect me… at least as far as it goes; I’d have to give up a lot of the money, but it was, well, ‘safer’. He did protect me, but he also owned me, I soon came to learn… with no prospects of me getting out as easily as with my dad’s debt.”

Loress continued to listen, feeling more and more terrible for the little maid.

“Melchior wasn’t happy at all when he found out,” Delia huddled up. “But he and the pimp were close associates, having no idea I connected them. Melchior had no issues with him having a piece of me as well; it didn’t hurt my cleaning up the estate. But it also meant I’d be somepony’s property my whole life… But that changed.”

Loress saw Delia’s eyes well up; the maid sniffled, “Clovis… he offered Melchior his own freedom—his own life, really—to get me away from the pimp. Melchior couldn’t believe it but by that time Clovis was already running his legal enterprises, so he leapt at the chance of keeping Clovis around; Melchior paid the pimp and Clovis entered 25 years of servitude…”

Loress was stunned; this didn’t seem like the Clovis she’d come to understand, even giving him the benefit of the doubt, “25 years?! Clovis did that… for you?”

Delia wept openly, “Yes… he did. That was the pimp’s… and Melchior’s price. His friends… when they found out Clovis told them to get out when they wanted, but… they mostly decided to stay with him… He really does inspire loyalty. On top of that Clovis convinced Melchior to knock a decade off my servitude; I was meant to be here until I was 30-years-old or so. But with my skills… I was able to do things like we did last night.”

Loress wondered about something; Delia said she no longer owed Clovis a thing but it sounded like she owed him everything, “So… what, then?”

Delia knew the question’s meaning, “We’ve helped each other quite a few times over the years; it’s more than once I’ve saved his life, as he’s saved mine. We swore to each other we’d not worry about owing the other but… I only said that because I was angry about that stupid plan! Really… I’d do anything for Clovis… I can't help but feel if I hadn't been such a stupid little filly he wouldn't be stuck here...”

Loress nuzzled in and draped a hoof over the weeping maid’s shoulders. She didn’t say much; she just embraced her.

After a time, Delia snorted, trying to clear her sniffles, “As far as that goes… it’s no secret; tell the others if you want. They might as well know how messed up all this is, too…”

Loress patted Delia’s back, after a few moments, and asked, “Let’s worry about that later… Help me with starting dinner?”

Delia rubbed her eyes and gave a little smile, “Sure… Ever try lentils with curry?”

Loress shook her head, “No…”

“Well, you’re in for a treat then. There’s nothing like a little spice on a dreary day like this.”

Author's Note

Check out the Appendix for Princess Essenta, updated as the story moves along. It shows the story's timeline and character designs. Contains spoilers.

In a warm, dry cave in a cold, wet, miserable storm, Delia has revealed a little more about her history with Clovis. Things look a little bleak but the healing continues.

I meant for this chapter to be longer but it was pushing 11K words so I broke it up. This part didn't have much action anyway. But I have several chapters in the eaves and plan to release several this week. After a few more chapters, Princess will be going on a short break, but the coming chapters this week should answer some questions.

If you enjoy Princess Essenta, please take a look at Larkspur Blossom. A story of a colt finding his worth and making a better life for himself.

Also look for The Virgin Company. A tale of a military pony and his platoon in a war centuries ago.

Like, follow, or leave a comment if you please. It's been fun writing and I'm glad some enjoy it.

Thanks for reading, and take care.

Chapter 35: Rededication

"Last Chance" Stopover Arc

The rain continued for a couple days, leading Delia to stay with the mares. If the weather was bad the mountain trails were awash with treachery of the natural sort. It was good they had enough food and dry wood to last a while.

Essenta began to feel like herself by the third day, having benefitted greatly from Dechaa and Wilka’s healing sessions. Her head hurt but the damage was receding; soon enough she’d be good to travel. She hadn’t been able to remember most of the night but learned soon enough. And considering what she’d heard about the dragon it was hard for her to believe it just got up and scampered away…

Things in the city were a mess. Clovis had kept Delia abreast on the situation through her crystal ball and the maid was satisfied enough to be shy of the trouble. Clovis, despite being an enforcer (his running the legal business was a few “pay-grades” above his simply keeping things running smoothly) he’d been entrusted with the underbosses to run the show until they’d figured things out.

A lot of things came down to how Pallo wanted to deal with things once he healed up some; Melchior may have "ended the bloodline" but Pallo was now technically in charge.

One thing Clovis had done, which had shaken many of the underbosses, was give an ultimatum: they were to cease and abandon all of Melchior’s “pet-projects” and stay or leave the organization and continue doing what they would, severing ties. About half the underbosses were already splitting off, forming their own crews. There wasn’t much to do for stopping those that wanted the “easy” money.

But Clovis knew the legitimate business made them rich as shit anyway and a few underbosses agreed, choosing to turn their less-than-savory interests over to others. Considering things, it was a remarkably peaceful transition of power.

Still, much relied on Pallo.

As far as the new mayor went, he seemed terrified something else horrible would show up and kill him too, so he’d holed up the last few days trying to keep the city from falling apart around them. But everypony was just so… shaken from the events at the mayoral ball they tried to go on with their lives and lay low. The pubs were almost empty, little gambling occurred, and the violent crime rate dipped.

The peaceable time wouldn’t last forever but it might endure long enough for things to settle down.

After three days the weather cleared up and the sun actually came out, creating positively balmy conditions in the forest. With all their time cooped up in the cave, they’d communicated many things. Essenta knew about the nightmarish mayoral ball and the girls all gained a new appreciation for Clovis and Delia… and their shared history. Delia continued to supply them with food and other than spending a little time with them had gone back to work. The time with her had been fun, sharing in tales of their time on the road and all they’d done and seen.

With Essenta’s eyes better by the day, the seven mares took to lying down under the sun on a rocky outcropping. It was lovely and further reminded them things weren’t as bad as they could be. They had each other and none of them was dead. Considering some of the crazy shit they’d been through that had to be some kind of miracle.

After five days Essenta had improved a great deal, but still suffered from blurred vision and dizziness on occasion. But she, along with the other mares, were out enjoying the mid-morning. They were collecting mushrooms to make soup at lunch, though Essenta contented herself sunning on a rock. Delia would be along very soon with some rice and fresh vegetables and the eight of them could have some tasty soup.

But that day she brought somepony else.

Clovis entered their little site without a lot of enthusiasm; he knew he wasn’t exactly welcome there (he didn’t know they’d learned better of him), “Good morning, girls…”

To his surprise he didn’t receive any death-glares; Zyra called from under a log, “G’morning, Clovis!”

A few others gave a short greeting and went back to searching; they were caught up in a game, seeing who could find the most. They didn’t ignore Clovis but did little more than acknowledge him… and that wasn’t the worst possible thing. Ama even waved but the spirit of friendly competition, hoping to beat Dechaa (who was nearly as good at botany as the apothecarial arts), kept her from approaching him.

Loress let off the game a moment, knowing she’d lose anyway with the fewest mushrooms, “Hey, you two… Weather’s nice today, huh?”

Clovis was relieved enough, “It’s lovely, Loress. The walk up here was a little muddy but otherwise nice.”

“How are things today?”

Delia actually snorked at this, covering her mouth with her hooves.

Loress’s eyes darted between them, “What is it?”

Clovis chuckled, “You remember Jaska, right?”

Loress hadn’t thought about the kind stallion she’d met and danced with, but did remember; there were other things more pressing that kept him from mind, “Yes…?”

Delia came in, “After Clovis told him you and ‘your friends’ were safe—he pestered Clovis for a day over it—he’s been insisting on meeting you again.”

Loress jarred, a little squee issuing from her, “What…?”

Clovis laughed, “I keep making excuses, telling him you’re preparing to go back home! And he’s still pestering me! We were watching over our shoulders to make sure he didn’t try to follow us here.”

The other girls had noticed something was up; Orni inquired, “What’s going on?”

Loress flustered, “Nothing, really…”

Delia spouted, “Somepony at the ball developed a liking for—”

Loress, careful not to kill her in the process, put a hoof to Delia’s mouth; the girls had rarely seen her so rattled, “Shut up!”

Essenta was lounging on the warm rock, “Oh, that Jaska fellow?”

Clovis nodded, grinning, “The same… Loress, calm down! He’s just glad you made it out of there; he was afraid when you pushed him out, saying you had to find your friends.”

“Why tell me?!” Loress spouted.

Clovis smirked, “Delia thought it’d be fun.”

The maid bopped his head, “Oh, you…”

Dechaa wondered, bored of Loress’s coyness, asked, “So what’s up?

Clovis cleared his throat, looking uncomfortable, “Well… if it’s alright… I’d like to talk to the princess.”

The mares couldn’t imagine what Clovis had to say to Essenta but looked to their leader; the princess shrugged and slowly stood up, not exactly steady.

“You girls keep looking for lunch…” Essenta groaned, walking past them all to a path in the woods. “I’ll talk to Clovis. Be careful not to poison us all, eh? Check every single ‘shroom, Dechaa; we don’t want any actual ‘shrooms, whether fun or deadly.”

Clovis worried for her, “Are you alright to go, Princess?”

She turned, grumpily, “I told you to call me by name and yes I’m alright to walk. C’mon!”

“Uh… okay,” Clovis reluctantly agreed; he turned to Delia, “Stay here, if you would. I’m sure they could use help starting lunch.”

Delia nodded, “Got it.”

Loress perked up, “Great… The weather’s so nice, I thought I’d cook outside today… We can eat out here too.”

Delia nodded, “I’ll go fetch some wood for a fire.”

At the trailhead Clovis trotted after Essenta, “How’s your vision today?”

“Screw the small-talk, Clovis…” she muttered. “That’s not what you wanna talk about…”

“So… she told you…” Clovis guided the princess across a narrow patch of trail. “She told you about us…”

Essenta smirked, “The way you say it you sound like an item, but yes… She told us what you did for her. That was… gallant.”

“I was terrified, Essenta… I wouldn’t see Delia suffer more than she already had but… I was so afraid…”

Essenta knew why one might be afraid, having literally sold life for a friend. It wasn’t something she was sure she would be able to do, and the thought hurt. That and all she’d learned about Clovis had her further regretting she’d tried to strangle him... a little.

She also felt guilty for not trusting him at the moment; she was at his mercy and she’d done little to afford such a thing. She’d tired out much more quickly than she’d expected and was struggling greatly on what was supposed to be a casual hike.

More importantly, she knew Clovis’s worries were beyond the things that immediately came to her mind, “What were you afraid of?”

It didn’t matter if he realized her thoughts or not; his answer was the same, “I was afraid my friends would leave me. We were never really indebted to a lifetime; we just stuck around because it worked for us. But them realizing I was stuck here until I was 40-some-years-old?! I was sure they’d move on. I know how selfish that sounds…”

Essenta shook her head; if that was simple selfishness than there was likely no saving anypony, “But they didn’t, Clovis. Some of them chose to stay with you. Whether out of friendship or loyalty or some obligation they had in mind they stayed. They stayed because they trust you… and I know you’ve done everything you can to honor that trust.”

Clovis strained, easing Essenta down a small incline, “You make me sound a whole lot better than I am… I served a pretty rotten fellow. And, geez, why did I let you lead me out this far?! Your legs are giving out on you!”

She was at least glad they were on the way back; they’d turned around some time earlier, “Well, I’m sorry, Clovis… I felt pretty good when we set off.”

He continued shepherding her along the same path they’d come, “Oh, it’s fine… It’s mainly your balance, I think; it throws off everything, you know. And you haven’t been too active.”

Essenta simmered, “I still can’t believe I let that motherfucker brain me like that…”

“Maybe you’re getting old or something, Essenta,” Clovis opined.

She would’ve smacked Clovis if she wouldn’t wind up falling down the mountainside… if she even had the strength, “Ah, fuck you, Clovis…”

He laughed, easing her along. She seemed a lot cuter when she wasn’t choking him. She almost seemed like a “normal” Earth pony maiden. She seemed smaller, too.

Her opinion of him had changed several times over the last week. He went from playboy to foolish object of loathing to her savior to greater object of loathing to… Clovis the noble-hearted.

Essenta chuckled, “How is it you kept your head, as hard as you were on Pallo? I mean… chucking an apple at his nutsack?”

Clovis looked unamused but thoughtful, “Another time it was an orange… and once a pineapple. But I occasionally wonder that myself… I do figure this: if I hadn’t been so useful I bet my head would be mounted above one of the fireplaces right about now…”

She smiled at the black joke… but they hadn’t gotten to the heart of the matter, “Clovis… when it comes down to it I’m the one that got us all the way out here but you’re the one that wanted to talk, and it hasn’t happened yet. What did you want to ask me?”

Clovis held her hoof as they crossed over a log, “Tell me about this journey of yours.”

Essenta was taken aback, “The journey… Well, you know about it… at least what’s ‘official’.”

“Yes… the stuff about finding some relic in Salvatrix for your father.”

Essenta sighed, “I also gave the girls some crap about wanting to ‘turn the world upside down’ and ‘obtaining something nopony else could give me or take away from me’… I started this journey with one thought in my head: to prove my father wrong. I wanted to prove to him I wasn’t just some worthless daughter… that I could do more than play at being a princess… or so I thought.”

Clovis wondered, “Then what is it?”

Essenta hadn’t expected it—not at all—but she began to weep.

Clovis hastily pulled out a kerchief, “Oh, I’m sorry, Essenta… Here.”

She collapsed onto a log and began to wipe at her eyes, “Oh, Clovis… I don’t know what I’m doing. I don’t even know why I left anymore! So many things have happened. I mean… we’re this close to the desert. But going to Salvatrix? With the plague? Do we even want to go there?”

“It would be a miserable place, I can assure you…” Clovis said. “You all aren’t the only ponies to come through town, hoping to find treasure down there… None of them have been gone more than a couple months but… we sure haven’t heard anything from anypony that’s gone down there.”

“And that’s reassuring!” Essenta bawled. “What bothers me the most is… I’ve dragged six mares down here with me—two from the Dale—and we have nothing to show for it. And the idea of returning to the Dale without anything to show for it… I don’t know about the rest but Dechaa’s and Zyra’s lives wouldn’t be worth much back there; neither would mine.”

Clovis countered, “It’s not like you’ve nothing to show for all your months together. You’ve got six wonderful friends and I know you’d do anything for each other.”

Essenta knew this and didn’t take it for granted, “But the Dale! I’m a princess, Clovis! It’s my duty to return… and become a queen someday.”

“Says who?”

The gears in Essenta’s mind didn’t even mesh, hearing that, “What did you say?”

“Who says you have to go back to the Dale? You left there, and you weren’t just looking for adventure or looking to piss off a king… You came out here in search of a new life, didn’t you?”

“Huh?” Essenta’s mouth gaped.

He laughed at this, “I’m not saying it’s the right thing to do… I’m just saying you can think of yourself, Essenta. If you really don’t want to go home… then don’t. Maybe your friends will stay with you, maybe they’ll go home, maybe who knows?!”

But Essenta was sure on something; there was one thing she was adamant on. It was something she’d not consciously thought of in months, but it was something never far-off in her mind.

“Clovis…” she whimpered, suddenly feeling even more sick. “I have a sister… a younger sister. I… I can’t leave Calleha alone up there! You don’t know what kind of stallion my father is! She’s still too young to marry but if I don’t go back… I don’t know what might become of her. You see… princesses of the Dale command a dowry.”

Clovis’s mind was always on money; despite sharing in Essenta’s pathos he couldn’t help but asking, despite knowing he shouldn’t, “What’s it worth?”

She snorked, briefly amused in her sorrow, “Uh… There are kingdoms in the north that would pay up to 500,000 East-Central Valley gold pieces for a princess of the Dale.”

Clovis was enough of a merchant-trader; he’d seen just about every piece of currency the continent had to offer, “Valley standard… one-eighth of an ounce… that’s… almost two tons of gold!”

She nodded.

“3,900 pounds!” Clovis gawked.

“Yes,” the princess squirmed at his manner.

Clovis blinked stupidly; he had to take a moment, “Well… wow!”

Essenta wanted to smack him, “Yes, ‘wow’! That kind of influence up north is worth that to some kings.”

“And you want to save her from that?”

That was quite a thing; Essenta nodded, “Yes.”

Clovis flopped down next to her, “Shit… So not going home is off the table.”

“It was never on the table to begin with, Clovis,” she said bitterly.

He sighed, “So… what then?”

She sat a moment, the gears beginning to turn in her head. Sometimes she needed a push in the right direction… and Clovis had given her a decent nudge.

It took her a long moment… but for the first time in a long time, since Renata, Essenta felt the familiar, child-like resolve she’d been able to show to her friends… It was the determination that had them following her, for reasons otherwise unknown to her. Now she was able to show it to Clovis.

“I don’t know, Clovis!”

He hadn’t expected that, “You don’t know…?”

“No,” she almost sounded joyous. “I have no real idea!”

Clovis thought a moment; then he laughed, “I see! Still… you have to have a plan of some sort…”

“And I do… It hasn’t really changed. I’m going home with something to show for it, one way or another; I won’t do otherwise. The details though… they’re a bit murky, yet.”

Clovis laughed again, truly; but he also felt the same inexpressible notion that had six mares drop everything and follow the princess to the very extremes of the “civilized” continent, “I see…”

And he did see. It was weird, dubious, a little scary… but there it was.

“Things go on as planned but I’d best run things across the girls I suppose…” Essenta pondered. “Just need to heal up and we can be on our way again.”

“Essenta… I was hoping you’d do me a favor.”

This caught her unaware, him asking that without preamble.

Him ask her a favor?! Then again, the princess knew Clovis had let some pretty bad shit go that she would’ve held against another pony; she’d at least humor him.

She eyed him dubiously, “What might that be?”

Clovis was confident, for reasons unknown to his mind—but not his heart, guts, and balls—Essenta would turn the world on its ear… and that she wouldn’t simply lead the other mares to rot or ruin or death, wherever they wound up, “I want you to take Delia with you.”

“No, Clovis!” the maid spat right to Clovis’s face. “Damn it to Hell, NO!”

It seemed an innocent enough thing, to Essenta and company, asking Delia if she’d like to join them on the road. They’d become good friends over the last week and while it seemed sudden (but really wasn’t considering some of the girls had hopped on the crew within hours of meeting) they’d been through such a time together, they’d regarded her as a sister-in-mischief, if not a sister-in-arms; they weren’t soldiers, after all, but they’d been in the shit.

The mares were delighted at the prospect; Essenta had been ecstatic when Clovis finally told her why he’d wanted to speak with her in the first place. Since Delia was… well, property… they’d never considered it but it seemed like a great idea when voiced.

But Delia would have none of it; when she learned Clovis had put Essenta up to it she cursed him out with a few words the company was reasonably sure they’d never even heard.

“But Delia!” Clovis tried to calm her down; the mares were too stunned by the response to even try. “Delia, listen!”

“It can’t happen!” she bellowed back to him.

“What the Hell are you talking about?!” he was genuinely flummoxed.

She had turned away from them; she inhaled deeply and sighed, “You don’t get it, do you, Clovis?”

“Get what?!” he didn’t see where this was going.

She saw he didn’t understand; her eyes welled up and she began to sob, her back towards them, “As clever as you occasionally prove to be… you’re a real fucking idiot sometimes…”

Clovis approached slowly, “Delia… you don’t want to go?”

She jolted at that; slowly she turned around, showing them a tearful mask of tragedy, “Yes, I want to go… I want to go more than almost anything… Whether it’s going south or whatever, I want to go! I’ve wanted to get away from this place half my life; I know you know that! And when they came through… and I got to meet them all… But you should know better than me why that’s not possible…”

The other mares were very happy to hear this—the part of her wanting to go along—and perplexed about the rest.

Clovis’s expression still didn’t show recognition of the thing that was so very clear to Delia.

She almost laughed, “You dumbass… Clovis… we’re property… We don’t say the word and nopony else does, but… we’re slaves, you and I…”

Clovis blinked, “Well… Mel’s dead, Delia.”

She screamed at him, “His getting cooked by some big fire lizard doesn’t change that! We’re in bondage to his household, Clovis! Pallo’s our master, now!”

This small detail had to work itself into Clovis’s brain; Delia was right, and he lamented the fact, “Yeah…”

Delia sniffled, “That’s right… that Pallo! I owe two years—maybe more, now—and you owe… 22 years. That’s not something one can just run away from!”

Clovis wasn’t smiling, “I can talk to Pallo; maybe he’d—”

Whack!!

Clovis was staggered as Delia hit him across the face, “No, Clovis! You will do no such thing!”

Everypony was staggered, seeing Clovis take the hit; they looked on, distraught.

Delia stumbled around a moment, looking as if she might collapse but she kept her hooves. Looking to the company one last time, she let out a sob and ran back towards town.

They watched her until she was out of sight; it was a rough moment.

Clovis turned to the company, “Girls… I’m sorry this happened. I… I don’t know what to say…”

Loress, knowing Delia and her history best among the girls, trembled as she asked, “Clovis… You’re not suggesting you’d ask for your servitude to be extended… for Delia?”

This hadn’t fully occurred to the other girls, if at all. It stunned them. As Essenta had they had all at least begun to find him… most noble.

He didn’t really give them an answer, “Perhaps you didn’t know, but Delia and I are the only ponies on the staff actually bound to the household. I don’t know why, sometimes, I gave up so many years for her sake. Maybe I love her… Maybe I felt sorry for her, getting pulled into what she did… Maybe I’m just plain stupid.

“Or maybe I knew, even then, what I know now, that I’m just a no-good hustler with nothing else to do… that ‘freedom’ didn’t matter to somepony like me. I’m never leaving behind this life; it’s all I know and it’s all I want. I don’t matter much in the end… and if my life was worth enough to help my friend… it was the best thing I could do.”

Hearing this, the girls felt their hearts break; Ama was the only one able to find words, “Clovis… You are…”

She found words, but very few; it was unlike her, finding nothing meaningful to say. She hung her head and sniffled.

Clovis just smiled at her, “It’s alright, Ama. Whatever happens, it’ll be alright.”

He addressed the company as a whole, “I must say… I’ve come to like all of you very much. I can’t say enough how sorry I am I brought all this upon you. Somepony will be along tomorrow with your supplies. I’ll see you off when you leave town, if I’m able.”

He turned and began to walk away, before halting and glancing back. He saw the mares that had come so very far… A princess with an unclear future… an apprehensive apothecary… a mare that witnessed Hell… a traveler that wanted more than anything, friends… a traveler that punched a dragon… and two very close friends he’d never quite figured out. They still had a long way to go…

Clovis gave a sad smile, “And… yes, Loress… I would find myself tied to Pallo’s estate all my days for Delia’s sake… She’s my friend… and I love her like a sister; that’s all I can really say.”

Without another word he walked away.

The girls looked on, their lunch growing cold.

The girls had seen their sixth sunrise from their vantage-point. It had been a melancholy day already, despite the wonderful sunshine and light breeze. Their thoughts dwelled with their new friend. Well, new friends, if Clovis was counted; what else was there to call him at that point?

It had been a hard truth to swallow. The two were in bondage and they couldn’t just walk away. They could run or one of them could run but where would that leave the other? What kind of life was one on the run? And even if Delia was freed… she wouldn’t just leave Clovis, despite his apparent lack of care for his condition of servitude. In fact, they’d come to believe that once she was free she’d work to help buy Clovis’s freedom.

The world was a messy place, sometimes.

Their downheartedness was interrupted a moment when a fold in Loress’s tunic sounded. Normally kept in the cave, Loress was carrying the tiny crystal ball Clovis had left them in case they needed to contact him.

It got the attention of all the girls, lounging around a stump near the entrance to the cave.

Loress’s mind, and the rest of their minds, weren’t optimistic about contact; the ball had been meant for important things and a lot could still go wrong with their hiding out.

Loress held up the ball, “Uh… yes?”

Clovis’s voice came through, “Ladies… I need you to come down the mountain for a bit.”

Hearing this was about as welcome as finding a rotten peanut after an otherwise delightful snack-time… and things hadn’t been all that pleasant anyway.

Essenta answered his call, “Mind telling us why?”

“No harm intended, girls,” Clovis chuckled. “We just need to talk. Trust me.”

He’d asked for their trust before… The record was about 50% on the side of success.

Their minds, if they hadn’t been through all that Hell together with him, may have sensed a trap.

But the mares’ eyes met; they trusted Clovis, or at least chose to.

Essenta, having had another day to recover, did much better on the trip down than she had dragging Clovis out further than she should have. She felt just about normal again.

They’d agreed to meet Clovis at the trailhead that eventually led to their camp; it was secluded enough.

Clovis was there, with a couple of his crew, a wagon, and… Delia?

Delia didn’t wish to make eye-contact with them; she looked angry, glancing daggers towards Clovis.

The girls hadn’t expected to see the maid again, not that they weren’t glad to see her; something was up.

Essenta’s voice frightened Clovis a little, “What the Hell’s going on, Clovis?”

Clovis’s balls ran off a moment but he composed himself, standing across from the girls, “She really didn’t want me to… but I begged that Delia be released from her servitude; it’s not like I was gonna let her stop me.”

This didn’t exactly shock anypony; they’d strongly believed he’d do it. Delia’s defiant manner wasn’t a surprise either, them knowing just why she wasn’t willing to leave.

It was hard for any of the company to initiate a dialogue but Loress managed; somepony had to do it, “So what happened?”

Clovis began sweating bullets and it was pretty obvious, in the presence of the little company of dynamic and dangerous mares, “That… is the part about trusting me… It… hasn’t exactly been resolved yet.”

The girls were flummoxed; Dechaa cocked her head, “And… what’s that mean?”

Clovis shuffled his hooves, glancing from the company to the furious Delia to the wagon, “Uh… you see…”

Essenta became just a jiff impatient, “Spit it out, Clovis…”

Clovis’s mouth moved but a voice was heard otherwise… from the wagon; the tarp covering it moved, “C’mon! Enough, Clovis!”

The noise surprised them all and all eyes went to the wagon.

Pallo sat up in the wagon, casting aside the tarp, “Cripes! It’s hot under there!”

If the fact somepony was hiding in the wagon was a stunner; the fact it was Pallo was a fucking knockout.

Clovis blathered as Pallo, in obvious pain, lowered himself from the side of the wagon, “Master Pallo! I agreed to this only if you stayed put!”

“You worry too much…” Pallo had managed to get four hooves on the ground, wincing. “I doubt like Hell anypony in the woods is gonna try to blow my brains out or poison me…”

“But Master!” Clovis implored.

Pallo scoffed, “Drop the ‘Master’ nonsense, Clovis… We’ve known each other since I was 6-years-old…”

The gelding Earth pony slowly shifted his stance to face the mares; he looked a lot older than he was, the week he’d been through.

He actually smiled at them, “This is my first time seeing the lot of you together, sober…”

The mares did a take. Humor?

Pallo noticed their incredulous looks, “Ladies, if I wasn’t able to laugh a little I’d have put a knife through my heart by now… I didn’t think it’d ever stop bleeding…”

The girls cringed, seeing him standing there in pain; but it didn’t stop Essenta from saying what occurred to her, “Pallo… Wow… I, uh… never thought we’d see you again.”

“Yeah, I can imagine, Princess,” Pallo sighed. “If it wasn’t for Delia, there, I’d have bled to death.”

The little company all felt the collective feeling of a punch in the gut. Their shock was difficult to convey. You ever feel electricity go through you? Even your teeth vibrate? That’s about how the mares felt.

Essenta was unable to form words… and the same could be said of most of them.

Ama’s strong composure fell through a moment, “How do you know?!”

Clovis was looking at the ground, “Pallo… you said you’d ease them into it.”

Pallo turned, sweating buckets and pink in the face, “Well, I’m hurtin’ here, Clovis. I wanna speed this up.”

Clovis turned to the mares, their shock wearing off, “This was why I asked you to trust me.”

The mares pretty much thought the same thing: Trust my pastel-colored ass. This was another level of WTF.

Essenta recovered fastest, “Clovis, you asshole! What do you mean, trust?! He was ready to have us killed!”

The princess pointed an accusatory hoof at Pallo; Pallo was stoic, other than his considerable pain in the area of his empty coin-purse.

Clovis recalled, eyes darting, “I… told you Pallo had ponies killed for less than what happened at the pub… That… was… a lie.”

Clovis looked close to shitting himself as the girls began to eyeball him. Delia scowled along with the other mares. Pallo just looked like his nethers hurt.

Clovis sighed, “I… never thought it would come to this… it was a bluff.”

One of Clovis’s friends spoke up, finally, a nasty smile on his face, “He’s honorable, sure, but he’s still a con…”

The girls dissected Clovis with their eyes, even Ama.

Clovis sputtered, “I was desperate! I mean, sure, Pallo’s an asshole sometimes but he’s not all that—”

Pallo bonked Clovis’s head, “Who’s an asshole?”

Clovis sputtered, no longer able to make words.

Pallo cuffed him, the ghost of a smile on his face, “Sure… I was upset. I was a little drunk… and I know I said some things, though that’s no excuse. I was still angry the morning my father… Well, yes, I was upset then; I said more foolish things.”

To the astonishment of all, Pallo approached Ama with some difficulty, “Miss Ama…”

She was still a little shaky, “You know who I am?”

He chuckled before glancing towards Clovis, “I know who all of you are… It’s not like I can’t hear. Even as well-kept your secret was, I wasn’t asleep all the time. Clovis… your crew talks too much; do something about that.”

Clovis piped up, “Will do.”

The company had though Clovis was acting rather strangely but he was positively unlike anything they’d seen from him. The confidence, the competence… wasn’t apparent.

Pallo continued to address Ama, “I let Clovis know I knew the truth and he told me about all of you. Ama… I’m terribly sorry… for striking you. And over some card-game!”

Ama was too taken aback to respond.

“And for having you locked away with no amenities—even locking you away—I don’t expect you to forgive me. Just know that I regret my actions.”

The company wasn’t convinced Pallo was a good pony, but this on top of the maturity he showed immediately prior to losing his nuts was reason to believe he wasn’t overly-evil or anything.

Ama was finally able to say something, “Oh! That… I accept your apology, Pallo. I was inebriated myself; I tried to pulverize you and for that I am sorry.”

Pallo, for the first time since appearing, managed to smile without looking like he was getting teeth during a blowjob; he turned to the rest, “We could talk about all the other crazy shit that happened to me and all of us this week, but I don’t feel so good and I’d rather just forget about a lot of it.”

Essenta took this to mean he wanted to talk about Delia; but she chose not to assume, “Why have you come all the way out here?”

Pallo eased himself to the ground; sitting appeared no better than standing, “I’ve had a lot of time to think this week… about a lot of things. Princess… I know well who your father is… You know what my father was… Regarding your father, what’s your greatest wish?”

The princess didn’t have to think very hard about it, “Other than not being beholden to him for being born royalty… it’s that I’m… not judged for my father.”

This struck the little company; this idea seemed obvious upon statement, but they’d never considered it before. It hurt.

Pallo nodded, “Yes, I’m the same. 10 days ago, and for my whole life, I knew my dad was a bad sort… Hell, evil. But I didn’t care. I had what I thought was a good life and I just didn’t care about things. But as I said… I’ve had plenty of time to think, feeling like I wanted to die all week.”

Essenta felt the smallest inkling of comradery with Pallo; she understood his recent feelings.

Pallo turned to Delia, “Delia. Clovis did ask I free you and he offered to pay the remainder of your debt. Don’t resent him for it.”

She stared at the ground, not willing to take the advice.

Pallo still looked at her, “I remember your father, Delia. He… was far from perfect. He made some very bad decisions and cast you aside, betraying family in the worst way possible. And still he chose to be stupid. It took hitting rock-bottom to knock him to his senses.”

Delia, no longer angry, was merely upset; she knew this truth.

“But he found his senses, Delia, and he became a better pony. I know you loved him."

Delia let out a little sob, tears squeezing from her stubborn eyes; she retreated into herself.

“Delia, listen,” Pallo directed. “I don’t wish you to suffer for your father’s debts… You saved my life last week.”

The fact Pallo knew who they were overshadowed this little detail; Essenta recalled her harsh words to Delia regarding the awful brunch that day and further regretted them. Delia had done a lot more than run away when Pallo suffered his father's wrath.

“Delia,” Pallo had yet more to say. “Unconditionally and without reservation I grant you your freedom. It all falls to me, now, and you’re free of my household.”

The same “shocky” feeling described earlier ran through the company, Delia, and Clovis.

Delia looked up, a look of indescribable joy etched upon her face, “I’m… free…?”

“Yes, Delia,” Pallo replied. “You’re free to do what you please.”

The little company reflected Delia’s expression. Before anything else happened the little former-maid galloped over to them and practically leapt into their midst. There was much crying and buffeting and squee-ing to be had.

But just as quickly, Delia let off, leaving the girls dismayed. As if a plant withering before their eyes she turned and paddled back towards Pallo, with great sorrow in her eyes.

“Pallo… thanks so very, very much,” she bowed her head to him. “I’m free but… I just can’t go with the girls!”

For the first time in several moments Clovis said something, “Delia! Forget about me already!”

“No!” she shouted back. “I don’t care how many years it takes; I’m going to help set you free!”

The two friends began to yell at each other, coming nose to nose; it was a sight.

While the company and Clovis’s friends looked on Pallo had made his way over to Essenta’s side. The princess jumped, realizing he was there.

Pallo shook his head, a look of annoyance on his face, “I didn’t even get to finish… Clovis, Delia, SHUT UP!!”

The noise was enough to stop the racket.

Pallo exhaled, “Clovis… I wish to make you my advisor.”

All eyes went to Clovis; Clovis’s jaw was dropped.

“You’re young, but you’re still older than me,” Pallo said with a smirk. “And that’s not the point. You’ve kept the business not only afloat, but prosperous, in the face of all my dad got up to. You saved him from himself more than a few times and you saved plenty of others too.

“As I’ve said, I’ve been thinking a lot. I want to keep the business going and run it proper. You’ve spent most of the week cleaning up after everything and cutting ties with business we don’t need to be around anymore. I want to run everything legal-like and I need your help; I can’t do it without you. You’re the best stallion for the job and I know everypony would agree; there’s a reason they trusted you to keep things in line after my dad got torched.”

Clovis looked bemused, “Well… I don’t know what to say…”

“You could say ‘yes’ or ‘thank you’.”

Clovis thought a moment; his voice came choked, “Do I have a choice?”

This was perhaps the first time the little company saw any raw emotion from Clovis; he looked positively defeated. It hurt them but… Clovis had a debt to pay.

Delia slowly walked up to him, holding out a shaky hoof as if to touch him, to comfort him, but she couldn’t manage; her face showed a pain reflecting Clovis’s.

Pallo didn’t mean to drag things out, “I want you to stay on—I need you to stay… Guide me… guide us… guide this city… you and your crew can do it… but you do have a choice.”

Everypony looked to Pallo. Could it be…?

Pallo read them like a book; he looked straight at Clovis, “I can’t say we were ever really friends, but you watched out for me in ways I’ve only come to appreciate in the last few days. I want to give this to you…”

Everypony held on with bated breath.

“You do have a choice… because you’re free, Clovis,” Pallo finished.

“I’m… free?” Clovis’s eyes welled up.

“Yes, Clovis,” Pallo guessed he wasn’t finished.

Clovis looked to his friend, “Delia…?”

She looked back, “Clovis!”

He looked at his hooves as if he’d never seen them before, as if to examine if he was even real and not dreaming. Looking up to his friend, he smiled and began to laugh; his eyes began to leak like cloth diapers.

With that Delia leapt at Clovis, embracing him; he tried to keep his hooves, but she knocked him right over. Sobbing and laughing and hugging the two rolled around in the grass.

Clovis quickly stood up and went to his two friends, doing the same with them; it had been quite a road for the lot of them.

The little company shared in the feeling. Ama was sobbing her eyes out; it was so moving the others couldn’t help but join in. After another moment they elected to join Clovis and Delia in their happiness.

And Pallo just stood there, not unappreciative of the scene; he wanted Clovis’s answer but it could wait. The stallions that had ferried him out had rejoined him by the wagon.

“Let’s go, boys…” Pallo climbed, painfully tumbling into the wagon. “Ow! Fuck! Oh, geez… They know the way back.”

One of the stallions, beaming, pulled the tarp over him, “Yessir!”

Pallo moaned, “And if you could avoid the bumps… I’ll buy you two a keg of ale. How’s that sound?”

The other stallion chuckled as he harnessed up, “Sounds great, Boss. We’ll try.”

“Please do…” Pallo breathed. “And don’t forget the barrel we brought.”

The stallion seeing Pallo squared away rolled it off, “Sorry, Boss.”

Leaving Clovis and Delia to revel in their freedom, they left behind a keg of a certain ale a certain Mazan so enjoyed. Pallo had meant to present it as a gift but the opportunity just never came up. It was for all of them, but he’d sent it for her liking.

The lot of them, having fallen on the keg of precious amber fluid, had had a grand day. Essenta and Delia sat off to the side much of the time, one choosing to stay sober and one doing the same she’d done her whole life (Delia's teetotalism, that is, not Essenta's borderline-alcoholism).

But the merriment ended and soon the time came to part ways.

“I wish I could see you all off in the morning but there’s an awful lot to do… the city’s different, now,” Clovis, pretty drunk, would be taking on quite a responsibility overnight.

Loress flushed a little, "When you do see Mr. Jaska again... give him my best, please."

Clovis chuckled, "I could send him up here."

The Terran shook her head, "Oh, please don't..."

The company laughed; it was an amusing thought but they really didn't need any more ponies knowing just who they were.

Standing across from Clovis, Essenta would’ve like to say more, “I’d like to say ‘thanks’ but…”

Clovis gave a self-deprecating snork, “There’s not a whole lotta reason for that, though, is there?”

The princess shuffled her hooves, “I mean… I did try to wring your neck… but you followed through even after everything and I’m sure you would’ve seen us safe anyway in the end. And you did save my life.”

“Sure, but I was foolish; I guess I still have a lot to learn. It took all that for me to kill my loyalty to Melchior; that alone shows me I’m still a colt.”

Nopony could fully argue this but they didn’t want to kill him anymore either.

Clovis turned to the Mazan—a pony he’d come to consider a friend despite knowing her a mere few days from opposite sides of bars—and wished to say something.

“Again, Ama… I’m sorry for putting you through that last week,” Clovis hung his head; then he looked to the rest. “I’m sorry for a lot of things… I’m a liar and a cheat… and I used you…”

He couldn’t bring himself to say anything more; words couldn’t express his regret over all that had befallen Ama and certainly the rest of the girls. It would be something he’d carry with him. Had he been sober, he might’ve better presented himself.

Ama, at this point, really didn’t see any need for apologies. Just a little pink in the cheeks (not at all from the ale), she paddled up to Clovis; she recalled with fondness something from a few weeks earlier, approaching the mountains, which Orni had asked her and she’d been delighted to reflect upon to her friends.

She didn’t really have to look down at him all that much; his ear-tips came up to eye-level, “Clovis… No mere colt could have led children halfway across the continent as you did. You are a good, noble, and kind fellow. I told you I would not be loath to call you ‘friend’ and I am not loath to do so now.”

The unicorn stallion looked up in shock to her warm smile; the mares, drunk where capable of such a thing, were having difficulty with this too.

Ama went on, “I hope to see our journey through regardless of where it may lead us. That being said… if I had in my mind the desire to go back to Mazan sooner rather than later… perhaps even later… Dear friend, I would not at all be opposed to having a daughter sired by you.”

It wasn’t missed by the mares this was just about the greatest complement Ama could give a stallion. The now-larger little company watched with incomprehension as Ama leaned in and planted a little kiss on the stammering Clovis’s cheek.

Clovis stuttered something but wasn’t comprehensible.

Ama gave him a little chuckle, “Work hard, Clovis; the city needs you. Fair thee well.”

Realizing Clovis was broken on top of being sloshed, Delia cracked a grin and nudged him, “I’ll see the new ‘advisor’ makes it back. And I'll be sure to thank Pallo and the brothers at the pub for the keg. I’ll see you girls in the morning at the trailhead; I’ll bring some hot breakfast along with the fresh supplies.”

Essenta still could barely believe it; she was grinning like a hyena with dementia, “So you’re really coming with us?”

Delia had answered the question more than once, “For the dozenth time, Essenta, yes! Whether it’s getting killed in some jungle or whatever, I’m game.”

Essenta had given Delia the same spiel the others had heard... about turning the world upside down and such. Of course, Delia "fell for it" as the others had.

The mares other than Essenta giggled in response; it all did seem too good to be true, causing such disbelief.

The seven mares watched their eighth lead away the stallion that had caused them so much trouble… and that helped them out of it… only necessary because he’d led them into such trouble. He wasn’t such a bad sort.

Zyra gazed after the two, shaking her head; she turned to Ama and slurred, “Your taste in stallions I do not get…”

Ama buffeted the little mage, just about knocking her off-balance; she moseyed back to camp, to the merry laughter of her friends, with a demure smile and a blush.

So, the little company took rest. After almost two weeks of misfortune they’d be getting back on the road, come morning, with a new companion at their side.

Author's Note

Check out the Appendix for Princess Essenta, updated as the story moves along. It shows the story's timeline and character designs. Contains spoilers.

With the last couple weeks worth of crazy behind them Essenta has found new purpose and the little company has gained a bright, new, happy face to help them turn the world upside down or whatever they wind up doing. It's the journey, not the destination, right? :derpytongue2:

I think the chapter's pretty uneven. After all the editing I was never fully satisfied and feel it just is awkward at times. But it read better than expected when I used the text-to-speech feature.

The journey into the desert is next and they do resume the schlep but there is one more obstacle to overcome before the way is clear. If you love exposition you'll adore the next chapter. But no worries; a lot is revealed and the girls even manage to have a little fun beforehand.

Again, apologies for splitting things up so much, but I didn't want to have a 14.5K word chapter; I didn't even want a 7.7K word chapter. Look forward to an informative chapter next.

If you enjoy Princess Essenta, please take a look at Larkspur Blossom. A story of a colt finding his worth and making a better life for himself.

Also look for The Virgin Company. A tale of a military pony and his platoon in a war centuries ago.

Like, follow, or leave a comment if you please. It's been fun writing and I'm glad some enjoy it.

Thanks for reading, and take care.

Chapter 37: Letting Go

"Last Chance" Stopover Arc

The eight mares approached what they now recognized as five stallions down the road, at walking pace, as coolly as was manageable; they stopped at about 10 paces.

Ama, with her imposing manner and impeccable manners, had been volun-told by Loress to be their spokesmare.

“Good morning, travelers,” Ama smiled more genuinely than the rest might’ve achieved because it was so. “Have you just come out of the desert?”

The other mares were far leerier about this; their eyes darted about in the thinning woods.

The stallions stood mute.

Ama wasn’t much for making up niceties but she didn’t have to; her kindness wasn’t false, “If you are thirsty we would be glad to share with you our water.”

Loress, besides being Essenta’s righthoof mare, was their unofficial quartermaster (often the same job anyway); she was displeased with Ama offering any of their supplies to a hoofful of strangers, but it was better than getting in a scrap if they were desperate for food or water.

Ama cocked her head, “Do you speak Continental Standard? A bheil thu a 'tuigsinn?”

Orni almost guffawed, “Ama, I doubt they know Knollspeak. And you know it?”

Ama wasn’t flustered, “A small amount… Many ponies in the east at least understand Knollspeak but I would doubt they would understand my own language. Other than Continental Standard and Mazantongue Knollspeak is the only language I know.”

It became clear to the mares Ama wasn’t fooling around; she was giving these five the benefit of the doubt they might’ve been travelers, weary and in a strange place.

Ama turned to Zyra, “Zyra… please attempt to address them.”

But Zyra’s extensive—though rarely used—gift of tongues wouldn’t be needed that day.

One of the figures spoke, “We appreciate the offer, Ama Waterfall, but we’ve neither come out of the desert nor wish to relieve your group of any of your supplies.”

Ah, fuckin’ shit!

Most of the mares were fairly displeased, realizing they’d come across more ponies that knew who they were.

Delia was a bit confused but judging by the reactions of the girls she was ready to share their pathos.

Ama, the coolest head among the company, grinned cordially, “Oh, very well, then… Now… who are you and what is it you want?!”

The other seven mares flinched as if they’d been goosed and they were quite positive the five stallions had jumped a little. Ama had jumped ship quickly on her pleasant demeanor; the benefit was gone, and the doubt was given its due.

The stallions didn’t answer immediately. Ama stared them down.

“Who are you and what is it you want? Please do tell…” her voice came quieter but lacked none of its authority, a decided edge to it.

Essenta fretted inwardly; she knew Ama was the kind of mare to not throw the first blow, but the air was tense between their groups. It was only a matter of time before—

One of the stallions put up a hoof; the girls flinched, with Zyra ready to fry somepony, but soon realized the stallion’s hoof was raised in friendship.

The girls all gave a sigh of relief; things didn’t seem as if they’d blow up just then.

Ama, already about as relaxed as possible with the given situation, dropped her ferocity and put up her hoof as well, “I see… I am Ama Waterfall… and I suppose you know the rest of us.”

With only his muzzle showing, the stallion gave a little smile, “Indeed… other than the new one.”

He pointed to Delia; the former maid grew nervous.

He dropped his hoof, “But that’s none of our business. You’ve all had quite a week, we’ve come to understand.”

Ama played his game, simpering, “It was a damned nightmare—though that is not your concern either—and we are glad to be shy of it. Now… you know us, and you must know of our journey. Would you grace us with your identities?”

The stallion shook his head, “Afraid not, Miss… Our names—who and what we are—aren’t important. Call me ‘Wind’ if you’re to call me anything.”

Essenta grew tired of the “games” and stepped forward; Ama smiled and stepped back to allow the princess her piece, “I’m Princess Essenta Dale. I see you likely mean us no harm, but you have a reason for blocking the road leading to the desert. Please tell us what you want.”

Loress and the rest of the girls were vaguely impressed by the princess; she spoke without aggression but with sureness.

Wind nodded, “Very well… bring him out.”

One of the other stallions lit up his horn—it hadn’t been clear any of them were unicorns until then—and faced the edge of the woods. The horn’s glow intensified, and something could be heard dragging through the leaf-litter. From the woods a burlap sack was roughly yanked through a shrub. The sack and its contents hit the ground hard, in front of the stallions. From within the sack a whimper could be heard; it squirmed, rolling to one side.

Somepony was inside.

The mares were equally alarmed; this could mean anything.

Essenta was on high alert but gulping, managed, “What’s the meaning of this?”

Wind was nonplussed, considering the wriggling sack, “Today ends the journey of this pony.”

The girls felt their hearts rise up into their throats. Murder?!

Wind chided them, “Be at peace, little company; we mean you no harm, but I cannot say the same for this fellow.”

The girls watched as a couple of the stallions took up position around the sack, apparently guarding it.

Wind’s horn again lit up and he began to tear open the sack, “I may as well tell you now! We’re friends of Noach. Noach the healer, Noach the bartender, Noach the mage… Master Noach…”

Essenta saw her vision invert, realizing the old stallion they’d gotten to know had sold them out; the others, minus Delia, shared the sensation.

“And based on what Noach told us, two of you—the little mage and the Mazan—will know exactly who this is,” Wind rolled the pony from the burlap.

A filthy unicorn with a recently-broken horn tumbled across the ground, coming to rest a short distance from Wind. His ashy coat was muddied, his fiery mane was dulled with untold days of dirt and dust, his erstwhile sharp eyes had blunted. Barely conscious, he stirred. His legs were broken, and it was obvious he was in remarkable pain, quivering. But it was his face that best told the tale. Looking at him it was clear to anypony he’d given up on life.

Ama gasped and Zyra’s eyes widened, as opposed to the shocked cries from the rest of the mares.

Delia’s face showed clarity in its horror, “Aodh Radulf…!”

Wind couldn’t keep the surprise out of his voice, “Wow... It’s shocking anypony would recognize this stallion… but you’re from that city you’ve all left behind, aren’t you?”

Delia nodded dumbly, “Yes… There’s nopony in this part of the world that doesn’t know who he is… but what he looks like… there are few…”

“You worked for Melchior, didn’t you?” Wind eyed Delia.

She again nodded, “When he was feeling his liquor… he… occasionally reminisced about their times together… There’s no mistaking him…”

The former maid looked ill and Wind acknowledged this, “You have my sympathy, Miss…”

Five of the mares had no idea who Radulf even was; their surprise of seeing somepony in his condition had shocked them into a torpor.

Wind aimed a swift kick at Radulf, eliciting a yelp, “For those of you that don’t know, this is Aodh Radulf. There’s a whole Hell-of-a-lot I could say about him but only a few things would concern all of you. This is the former leader of the ‘Fire Breathers’; I say ‘former’ because we killed the rest of them to the last stallion!”

The girls felt their lungs halt mid-breath. “Fire Breathers”?

Wind pointed at Radulf and then at the princess; he declared, “This is the stallion your father allied with, Princess Essenta Dale! This is the stallion that went along with your father, King Ansgar Dale, with his guild and 30 stallions of the Dale and rained Hellfire and death down on the western towns in the country of Joeh!”

Essenta felt as though she’d been punched in the throat, looking down at Radulf; she felt faint.

Wind wasn’t done, “And this stallion—all for the sake of some treasure he didn’t even obtain—and his guild—destroyed the town of Oswald and murdered all its residents… They put up a barrier and burned them alive! They murdered them all… all but two… and one of them is standing among you! They took their time killing Zyra’s family.”

The company fell away from Zyra; the little mage wasn’t showing much beyond a dumbfounded expression.

Wind had more to say, “And much more recently, at the behest of King Ansgar Dale, he sent three assassins to kill six of you… and bring the princess home!”

Delia’s jaw dropped; this was… insane! She looked over to the other mares. They all looked stone-faced at that… but it was mingled with a hurt understanding… a finality.

Notable was Essenta: her face slowly began to betray a great agony but as with the rest… she’d known this in her heart to begin with.

Knowing he’d said a lot, causing pain he didn’t wish to inflict, Wind very much regretted the way in which he’d conveyed his statements.

Wind had to calm himself; he took a slow breath, “We’ve been searching for years to find this demon. Noach is of our assemblage; he told us of meeting all of you. He told us everything we needed to know to locate Radulf. We found his little corner of the world, but he ran before we finished killing the rest of the guild off. Following wasn’t difficult; we allowed him to make it back to this city… the city in which he was born just for the ease of cornering him when he was at his very weakest. Here he sits before you, broken, and here he’s going to die. We actually caught him the day before the Mayoral Ball, but… we’ve been waiting.”

Horrified beyond measure, six of the mares were at a tremendous loss. All this was a lot to take in. Zyra still stood, hearing but not acknowledging the situation that so sickened the rest of them. Only one of the company had her wits.

Ama steeled herself, her eyes wet upon reflection of the things she’d seen alongside Noach in Zyra’s memories; she wasn’t sure what to think about Noach at this point but somehow trusted he didn’t betray them, “So… Wind… You have caused us great upset. Please tell us… Please tell me! Why is it that you have brought Aodh Radulf before us?”

Nopony could see but Wind’s face softened a modicum at Ama’s tears; he said, “We’ve been waiting for the lot of you. Radulf has wronged more ponies than can be counted… but truly none more so—living, that is—than your little mage. As the one whose duty it would normally be to take Radulf’s life has declined, it’s his authority—and his privilege—to pass it onto another.”

What? The explanation stirred the girls from their stupor.

Wind pointed to the very middle of the group of mares and declared for all to hear, “Zyra Argon! Radulf’s life is yours!”

As if waking from a daydream, Zyra’s eyes snapped. Her mind, recognized by Dechaa to be almost blank, began churning; it appeared to swirl, blackness trickling in, staining all it touched.

The others struggled to register what Wind had just stated; he couldn’t have said what they’d heard! But slowly it came clearer.

Loress’s eyes quivered as she slowly turned to face Wind, “His life… belongs to Zyra?”

Wind looked impassible, “It does.”

Those two short words sunk the meaning of it all deeply into the mares’ collective consciousnesses.

Moving as a ghost, Zyra slowly moved forward five paces, much to the incredulity of the company; the five stallions backed off and to the side. Zyra stood halfway between the company and the prone Radulf; she looked as if she had no idea what she should do.

The six that really knew Zyra remembered that horrible night in the woods, all those many weeks back, just a few days away from Renata. They remembered what happened to Zyra after that; she’d fragmented.

Loress very slowly moved towards Zyra, unsure if her words reached, “Now, Zyra… think about—”

Ama quickly placed herself between her friends and Zyra, leaving the little mage to her back, “Do not interfere.”

The company took a gasp of horrified surprise.

“You can’t wish for this,” Loress cried, nearly stumbling in her disbelief. “Ama… listen to me!”

Ama’s eyes were stony, “You will not stand in the way of Zyra’s decision. I will fight all that wish to alter the path she chooses for herself. And you will have to kill me to change this. I have seen the things that led us here… and I will eagerly fight to the death to honor her retribution, if she so takes it.”

Nopony completely doubted a word of this but it was no easier to accept. Dechaa, Wilka, Orni, and Delia were done; they trusted Ama to be true to her word. None of them would move to stop this, despite their revulsion and dread.

Essenta stood helplessly between Loress and the mares that had given in; she knew what she wanted to do but felt powerless to do anything.

Finally, after weeks of being able to put the thought aside, they knew Essenta’s father had ordered them dead and Essenta captured. It filled them with a bleakness none of them could relate. But even with that on their minds the only thing—the only pony—that mattered at that moment was their little mage… their friend.

Loress wasn’t the only mare to realize that if Zyra did this… they might lose her for good.

The Terran implored, approaching as close as she dared, and began to weep in earnest, “Please, Ama… don’t do this. Don’t stand back and let this happen. And don’t think I can’t stop you.”

Ama gazed down to Loress; she knew in her heart what consequences might befall, “If you knew the gravity of the power Zyra wields, you would know that no force in this world could easily alter her verdict. But, still, I will let none interfere. If you are prepared to kill me, or die yourself, advance one step; one of us will surrender our life.”

Loress saw the light—or lack of it—in Ama’s eyes… and she was cowed; she wouldn’t encumber this. She stepped back.

But Essenta was willing to try… or at least do something; she bolted towards Zyra, driven by desperation, “Zyra, NO!”

Loress caught her at the “line in the sand” Ama had noted, “No, Essenta!”

In her heart of hearts Loress wasn’t sure if Ama wouldn’t kill Essenta; this was miles beyond her reckoning…

“Loress!” the princess bawled. “Let me go! We can’t let her do this! This can’t happen! Zyra! Zyra! Don’t do it, Zyra! Don’t give in! Don’t go back there! You can’t—!”

She was silenced by a glow of Dechaa’s horn. Dechaa looked sick but had found her resolve; none would interfere.

If Zyra chose to give into her hatred… it was out of their hooves.

A long moment passed in near silence, the birds quiet; the wind had ceased to fold the grass and bend the trees.

Zyra slowly paced up to face Radulf; all eyes were on her, save one pair. Radulf looked to the ground—out of fear or resignation or exhaustion, nopony knew—but tensed as Zyra’s shadow crossed him.

At last he looked up and even that looked painful for him; under his muted mane, his sunken eyes shown dully within his fatigued face. He looked little like the fearsome unicorn that had once delightedly torn the world apart. Looking into, yet past, Zyra’s muted, steely eyes it was another moment before he spoke; his words reached only Zyra.

“I’m beaten, little mage… show us all the power of that cursed gem and finish me off,” Radulf bowed his head, resigned to die.

Zyra stared at the sky a moment… and then at Radulf.

Essenta was whimpering as Loress continued to hold her back. The princess squeezed her eyes shut; recalling the stallion Zyra had cooked alive all those weeks back, she couldn’t stand to see this again. Loress herself was almost sick, eyes streaming. Ama steadily remained where she was, willing to accept Zyra’s actions, however horrifying they might be. Wilka and Orni clung to each other, too afraid to do anything else. Delia was staggered that the first day of her new journey was befallen by such a thing and looked on in muted revulsion.

Dechaa could almost see the rage pouring from Zyra’s soul; it was so intense she felt physical pain in her heart. Her eyesight began to fail as a ringing made itself heard in her ears. Louder and louder it grew, until that too was painful. Dechaa experienced the inky black storm of hatred, threatening to consume all her senses.

And then, as if the skies suddenly and miraculously cleared, the storm was over. All that remained was a hollowness.

Dechaa, along with the rest of the girls, watched in astonishment as Zyra simply turned away from Radulf; she began walking down the path they were set upon, past the five stallions, the desert not far off. Radulf again looked up; the expression on his face was difficult to place… “Disbelief” and nothing else, was perhaps the best word for it.

Looking to one another, staggered, Wilka and Orni went after her first. Orni put a shaky hoof on Zyra’s shoulder as she caught up.

The Knollwing’s voice came unsteadily too, “Zyra…?”

Zyra’s eyes remained forward; they were damp, “I don’t want to talk right now, girls… Let’s just go.”

That was all Zyra had to say on the matter. Essenta looked to the other girls and they gazed back. Ama went after Zyra without a word, now pulling the wagon. Then Dechaa went. Loress felt stuck a few seconds, but she quickly went too. Still flabbergasted at the whole situation, Delia began to trot away.

This left Essenta with the stallions, standing guard over Radulf. They didn’t really need to anymore; Radulf was blank now, as if he’d already checked out of this life.

Wind broke the tangible silence, “You should just go, Princess. I apologize for pulling you and your friends into this… but justice must occur. Our leader wished to give the mage a chance at something nopony ever likely had more right to… but your mage is a wiser pony than most. For that I am truly sorry. Noach will not be pleased with him. Your friend though… she’ll need her friends now as much as she ever has; please take care of her. It might surprise you to know how many ponies wish for her happiness… or maybe it wouldn’t.”

Essenta looked after her little group and saw them surrounding Zyra as they paddled away; they kept a protective yet reverent distance from the mage.

She continued to stare as Wind spoke again, “Rest assured, Noach told nopony anything that would endanger you, your friends, or your home. And we wish you no ill will. Do not hold it against him. Nor will we pursue the matter regarding your father’s actions in Joeh. Radulf though… this has been a long time coming… Go. Leave us to finish what we set out to do. It isn’t anything you need to see. Again, for the pain caused today… please forgive us. May the rest of your journey, wherever it may take you and whatever becomes of it, be an agreeable one.”

Essenta wanted to say something, but her words failed her. Casting one last look at Radulf, she found she felt nothing towards him. Briefly thinking of her own father, so very far away… she realized she felt much the same way about him.

And so, she ran after her friends.

It was a while before the girls were out of sight.

A twig snapped in the woods next to the five stallions and their captive on the road; five sets of eyes swiveled to see… Radulf just sat there.

Wind lowered his hood and faced the noise, “Sir… they’re gone. It’s time.”

Another stallion, an Earth pony, moaned as he limped from the woods and lowered his own hood; Drausus shook out his mane, “Yes.”

“Sir! You’re finally back to your usual self, I see!” Frost exclaimed.

The others were surprised to see him in this state as well.

Drausus grumbled, stumping along, “Yeah…”

The ordinarily handsome Drausus was in rough shape, as if he’d run headfirst into a brick wall, “You laid it on pretty thick back there, Wind! You boys only beat the confession out of him this morning that King Dale sicced the ‘Fire Breathers’ on his own daughter… Not that anypony didn’t figure it already.”

The rest of the hooded stallions revealed themselves as Drausus’s following.

“I’m sorry about the noise, Sir Drausus… We meant to let you sleep,” Wind the “lead” stallion apologized.

“It’s alright… All this lying around is getting old and I wouldn’t miss seeing this refuse die,” Drausus responded. “But I wasn’t going to chance the company recognizing me.”

“How’s your face today?” Lightning winced, thinking about how miserable that had been.

“On the mend,” Drausus grumbled; then he chuckled. “The lot of you should’ve seen yourselves when the Mazan barked at you; you jumped like foals getting green onion suppositories.”

The other five shuffled their hooves but would take the grief; Ama Waterfall was nopony to cross, knowing all they did, and they were afraid. But they buffed it off.

Typhoon muttered, “If you’d just told that Clovis fellow what we were up to, Sir, this could’ve been done a week ago… And your getting so badly hurt could’ve been avoided.”

Drausus replied, “Don’t be so upset… The fewer ponies that knew what was going on, the better off we were. I’m sure he’d have gladly sent them along if he’d known more, though.”

“But he didn’t…” Frost replied for Typhoon.

Drausus responded, “It was the right call… Involving him further might’ve entailed bringing him in to off Melchior. I don’t think he’d have been prepared for that, the way things were.”

The rest concurred.

Typhoon wondered, “How was it again you knew this Clovis?”

Drausus shifted his weight, uncomfortable with standing, “I once met him when he was about 7-years-old, when we had a plow repaired. He and his friends were just colts when their town fell to the “Fire Breathers”; theirs was the second town razed in Joeh. Noach and a few connections told me he’d survived. Orphans all, they did what they had to in order to live. It’s not a normal colt that can lead a bunch of 8-year-olds safely across 2,000 miles; and what a tale it is.”

Thunder mused, “You Joeh folk were pretty tightly knit, weren’t you?”

Drausus looked hurt, not by Thunder’s words but just hurt, “It was our way, Thunder.”

“I’m sorry, Sir… I wasn’t thinking,” Thunder came back, noting his leader’s grief.

Typhoon didn’t mean to be personal and neither did the rest; he knew it was difficult for Drausus to discuss Joeh, “Sir… I pray you take solace knowing so many that suffered back then have made happy lives for themselves all over the land. I just wish… uh…”

Drausus gave a sad smile, “Go on.”

Emboldened, Typhoon finished, “I just wish there was more we could do to help ponies… In the end, us dealing out justice… vengeance, or whatever to those that bring chaos to the land won’t bring anypony murdered back or ease the hardships others endured.”

The Earth pony nodded slowly, “I too wish that very much… but this is what we chose to do.”

Lightning grumbled, “Clovis’s little stunt’s put us behind schedule on that.”

Drausus again shifted weight; he was sore, “Please don’t blame him for using the princess and her friends to his opportunity when he needed a job done; it’s how he’s stayed alive… he’s an opportunist. They had no idea what was going on and that’s all fine in the end. And as was said, the mayor was a ‘bonus’.”

It appeared Drausus had been awake for some time, listening to their bickering.

“Just what is it Melchior wanted, you think?” Thunder stared at the spot where the company had disappeared from sight.

Drausus shook his head, “Something he needed help with… As with most things it matters little in the end, considering how it all wound up.”

Whatever Melchior had been trying to do may never wind up coming to light, but it wouldn’t bother anypony that didn’t know one way or the other; he was dead and new hooves would guide the city.

Wind allowed himself a chuckle, “I don’t know what’s stranger: a 15-year-old colt running the city’s commerce or the same 18-year-old unofficially running the city.”

Drausus mused, “Who knows… But running the city? That all depends on who the new mayor turns out to be… and what sort of leader that Pallo becomes.”

But the six stallions were done shitting around; there was a more important matter to address. The politics of “Last Chance” City didn’t matter all that much to them but if there was something they didn’t like… they could always come back and deal harshly with the problem, as they had and would continue to do in so very many places.

But as with most cities it was more than its reputation would suggest. There were many ponies of all ages and races that scratched out simple lives, unrecognized by the rest of the world, as opposed to ponies like Melchior and the ex-mayor. They were just ponies, no more and no less.

It wasn’t like the city was up for a complete purging anytime soon.

But considering the task at hoof, that had just fallen back to them, it was difficult to say if Zyra’s actions had surprised any of them.

Wind shook his head wonderingly, “What that unicorn filly just did… that took grit.”

Drausus groaned, stretching some, “Yes, indeed. And you’re most right in saying Noach will resent me for this… I thought it was the right thing to do but… shit, it’s just as likely I was wrong. Zyra is fortunate; the princess has definitely surrounded herself with some very special friends… And my friends… I can’t thank you enough for helping me with this task. The emperor would see us all die for these little exploits; do remember we’re all meant to be on peregrination.”

Wind had to stifle a laugh, “There’s nothing ‘little’ about this, Sir. We know what this means to you… what it means to so many… You’ve done more for us… for our ponies… than we could ever pay back. And even if we die, I doubt like Hell the emperor would have a chance of killing you.”

“Something came close, though,” Drausus hoofed his friend’s shoulder, unable to stifle his broken grin with its several gaps. “But I’m not a decent regenerator for nothing. Thank you for seeing me through the week, though. I’d have still died without your help. You are all as loyal as a stallion could ever hope for and I’m blessed to have you. Now…”

Drausus approached Radulf, the grin vanishing, “Aodh Radulf… ‘Lord’… ‘Commander’… All that ends now. Do you recognize me? You should… I’ve not aged a day in the eyes of most ponies. When you burned your way through Joeh, you’ll recall—near the end of it all, in a town called Morrell—turning over a young stallion and his family to the mercy of King Ansgar Dale… because he begged you to spare their town’s food supply… You remember what King Dale did to his wife and filly, I’m sure.”

Radulf, nearly catatonic since Zyra had left him, dawned blank recognition, “Yes… I remember you… and what Ansgar did…”

But there was little emotion to Radulf anymore; he was a shell.

Drausus looked upon him coldly, “That young mare… with what you did… Hell, with what you’ve done recently, going after them… that took strength, walking away. It’s a strength beyond anything I could ever foster. I’ve sworn off killing Ansgar Dale, for Princess Essenta and the sake of her ponies, if nothing else. But I have no such reservations about you. I should take my time, killing you… but I’ve grown tired of this. It’ll be quick… quicker than you deserve.”

Drausus’s comrades backed away to give him space. Before them, he called upon the power for which he’d sold his very soul. It was difficult for the knight; he’d just managed to turn back to normal again that very morning.

It was enough to get Radulf to void his bowels, seeing an Earth pony transform into a dragon. Otherwise, he was too overwhelmed to do much; he just stared death in the face, crippled, with disbelief in his eyes and a fetid load in his raggedy tunic.

Drausus unleashed fire from within himself, reducing the murdering unicorn to ash.

Author's Note

Check out the Appendix for Princess Essenta, updated as the story moves along. It shows the story's timeline and character designs. Contains spoilers.

Zyra, having let go of her chance at vengeance, has found a new peace and is better off on the lifelong path of healing.

Long-sought justice has been served and two parties that have met at glances remain quite ignorant of the cards the other holds. Drausus and his vigilantes will show up again in the future but for now the little company has a desert to traverse.

For those that care, I've designated a form of Gaelic as the Knollwing language because I didn't feel like coming up with a fictional language. English is the "Continental Standard", of course. Terrans speak Latin. I've never bothered assigning the Mazans a language but a user suggested Navajo; it's the best idea I've heard on the matter.

If you enjoy Princess Essenta, please take a look at Larkspur Blossom. A story of a colt finding his worth and making a better life for himself.

Also look for The Virgin Company. A tale of a military pony and his platoon in a war centuries ago.

Like, follow, or leave a comment if you please. It's been fun writing and I'm glad some enjoy it.

Thanks for reading, and take care.

Chapter 38: The Desert

Desolate Places Arc

Delia’s normally laid-back expression was twisted with concentration, “I think I got one: ‘bearded clam’!”

“No dice, floor-scrubber!” Zyra crowed. “We’ve used that one, too.”

Delia wasn’t deterred, “Alright… ‘hair-pie’!”

Most of the girls laughed at that; Loress shook her head, “No, I’m afraid we used that one up a long while back…”

Delia looked back to Loress, herself trailing behind Orni, taking point, “Well, it’s not like I was around for all that. Can’t we screw that rule this time?”

It was Delia’s first time playing “Come up with a Funny Name for ‘Vagina’” with the other mares and so far, she’d been pulling mud. The others had declared only new terms they hadn’t batted around previously could be used.

Loress had suggested the rule, thinking getting their creative juices flowing would be more fun than reliving past glories and failures, “We want to keep things interesting; just try for now.”

Delia tried again, “Okay… ‘rosebud’.”

Essenta, walking in front of Loress but behind Delia, commented, “Well, we haven’t used that one… but it lacks… character.”

Dechaa was holding up the rear that day, “What the Hell’s that even mean, Sen?! We’re talking about ‘pussy’, not art…”

The remark took them by surprise, it being Dechaa, but she’d been getting rather grumpy come late-morning; she hated the hot weather and the sun was already baking them. The desert was about as unpleasant as they’d imagined it might be.

Delia defended her assertion, “Nah… It’s funny because it looks like a ‘rosebud’ before sex but winds up looking like a ‘dog eating pudding’ after.”

The mares cringed; that was a nasty vision.

Wilka grumbled, “I really don’t like the ‘dog’ thing…”

Delia got the message, “Fine… it’s not very good.”

The girls had been in the desert four days. They traveled from dusk until mid-morning and dug in during the day; it was the only way to conserve energy and water.

Things had been rather glum for a day or so, having watched Zyra try to put a very painful thing behind her and doing so winningly. Along with that it was high time to discuss a few aspects of Zyra’s past, if only to clue in the others. Ama helped Zyra through it; there were some things shared and some things not. Zyra still felt very sad but also felt better, knowing her friends were with her.

But even Zyra’s melancholy soon gave way to joy with a new friend and old friends with which to journey along. Life moves on, always.

The silly game they now played was just one of the many ways they’d been passing the time; otherwise there was nothing much to see but sand and other mares’ asses. Even the mares that were hesitant to take part in such filth gave in and tried to enjoy it.

Zyra thought hard, “Uh… how about ‘whisker-biscuit’?”

“No, Zyra,” Ama shook her head. “You suggested that one last month, upon finding a hair in your breakfast.”

The girls laughed, recalling the mage’s outright disgust.

Zyra remembered, “Oh, yeah… Well, I keep finding hairs in the bread Delia brought us… It’s simply inspirational!”

Delia cringed, “Sorry about that… the old mare that was on baking duty that day refuses to wear her hairnet…”

Zyra grimaced and was not alone in the feeling; they’d met the crusty old mare and had concerns regarding her hygiene.

Orni, whose forte was not conjuring filthy concepts, sometimes struck it rich, “How about ‘peachy-pie’?”

Delia snorked; it wasn’t the worst one they’d come up with, “‘Peachy-pie’?”

The others giggled; it was rather harmless, considering.

The Knollwing contended, “I know it doesn’t sound all that funny by itself, but picture this…”

She halted; as she was on point the others had to stop.

Orni took on a most suggestive look and strutted back and forth gracefully, “Picture a mare approaching a stallion and propositioning him, ‘Wanna take a look at my ‘peachy-pie’?’”

“Not if you put it like that, I don’t,” Zyra quipped.

Orni’s strut—and the obnoxious, unidentifiable accent she used—and Zyra’s fast comeback made it a contender; the girls all cracked up.

Orni gave a stiff bow before continuing walking, “Thank you, thank you…”

The mares happily chatted a moment, bickering about the best synonym thus far.

Essenta cackled, “Here’s one: ‘yogurt factory’!”

They groaned as one; that was foul.

Ama guffawed, “I believe we have a victor!”

Loress chided, “We still have to decide which ones to vote on… Does anypony have another to add?”

The collective of mares shook their heads; they’d just about run out of ideas.

Loress called back to Ama, “You’ve kept track?”

The Mazan smiled, “Of course. Those up for approval include the following: Essenta’s ‘yogurt factory’…”

Whether Ama knew how that sounded or not, it was hilarious to the girls, her referring to it belonging to the princess.

Ama continued, “Loress’s ‘honey-pot’…”

The mares snorked.

“Orni has two: her ‘hot-pocket’ and her ‘peachy-pie’. Well done, I must say…”

The mares couldn’t hold back their laughter but just managed to keep quiet.

“And finally, we have my ‘shame-cave’.”

They all roared, falling all over themselves.

Ama stopped and looked around, apparently not understanding, “Is it that funny?”

Essenta caught her breath, tears in her eyes, “Oh, it is, Ama…”

Loress had such a laughing fit she was reduced to coughing, “O-o-o-o-kay… So, we have ‘yogurt factory’, ‘honey-pot’, ‘hot-pocket’, ‘peachy-pie’, and ‘shame-cave’. I wish to withdraw ‘honey-pot’; it simply isn’t as good as the rest.”

Zyra considered, “You don’t have to…”

Loress insisted, “It’s simply not that funny.”

“Okay,” the mage figured. “Since there are eight of us now we may wind up having a tie in the vote. If that happens... I guess we can flip a coin or draw lots. Agreeable?”

This was met with ascent. It wasn't ideal, seeing something so lovingly created thwarted by a mere game of chance, but it was fair.

“Fine, then,” Essenta stated. “Which two get the ‘axe-wound’?”

Delia cocked her head, “‘Axe-wound’?”

Dechaa responded with a chuckle, “It lost out to ‘baby-cannon’ the last time we did this; she’s still sore about it.”

“Because it’s way funnier!” Essenta smiled, showing her teeth.

Delia disagreed; she was an authority on things profane, “It’s good, but ‘baby-cannon’ just flies off the tongue better; the absurdity is a boon as well.”

“Fine, fine,” Essenta admitted defeat. “Which two are out?”

Zyra lamented, “That’s hard… they’re all pretty good.”

Wilka put in unexpectedly, “I thought ‘peachy-pie’ was really funny but it’s more… cute than outrageous… Maybe we could play a game some other time looking for cute names…”

This made sense to the girls; Orni admitted, “You’re right… we’re looking for crazy. I really like my other one though; it’s pretty nasty.”

“Hot-pocket” was pretty nasty but it couldn’t quite hold up to the repellant “yogurt factory” and the off-beat “shame-cave”, those being the runaway pair.

Loress called for the vote, “Okay… All in favor of ‘yogurt factory’?”

Essenta was both happy and touched to see Ama raise her hoof. She’d been the only one to agree with her on “axe-wound”

"You're not voting for your own?!" Essenta couldn't believe it.

Ama grinned, "But yours is quite hilarious; it conjures awful visions!"

"Well... Thanks," Essenta voted for her own, smiling at her friend.

Zyra raised hers too, this time, giggling stupidly at Ama's statement.

The three were the only ones.

Loress called for the next, "For 'shame-cave'?"

The other five put up hooves, Loress included.

Loress smiled, “Sorry, Princess… Skunked again. Congratulations, Ama!”

The girls buffeted Ama, howling with laughter. Essenta had to admit her “yogurt factory” was inferior to Ama’s “shame-cave”… It better caught one off-guard with a touch of ludicrousness as opposed to outright grossness.

Dechaa was the first to break the merriment, being less than fully merry in the rapidly rising heat, “Okay, enough of that shit… Let’s hunker down and get some lunch…”

There was a singular lack of dispute and the girls dug in, content to rest under tarps until dusk. Beneath the tarps, nestled a few feet below the desert’s surface, it was 15 to 20° cooler; this was a literal lifesaver when the daytime temperatures soared to 115°.

Zyra shuddered as she split up fruit and biscuits among the girls, “Fuck me, I’m never gonna be able to look at yogurt the same way again…”

The desert was 700 miles across at their point of crossing. Never before had they been so glad to have a magical, lightweight wagon for their gear. In five days, they’d made it just over 200 miles; it was slow going in the sand, but their water, food, and supplies were fine. They’d even managed to find water deep underground in an abandoned well, Zyra and Dechaa able to pull it up with their magic.

Delia had stated many years earlier stallions had laid out a path across the desert using wooden poles driven deep into the ground; it offered a clear path in the shifting sands, but they’d long since weathered away. But several of the mares could navigate by the stars so it was still smooth sailing. In the vast darkness of the desert at night the stars shown in ways most of them had never seen.

Keeping to the course and barring any terrain worse than sand dunes they expected to be across in less than two weeks, not including those already tallied.

On the evening of the sixth day the mares climbed from under their tarps, experiencing the rapid drop in temperature with which they’d become familiar.

“Shit…” Essenta pondered. “It’s hot enough to cook an egg on a rock during the day and cold enough to brew a nice lager at night.”

Delia chuckled, “Yeah… and this is just Autumn. Another month and it’ll be cold enough at night to keep milk fresh.”

The princess shivered, rolling up one of the tarps, “Sounds fun…”

One might think cold air would be welcome after cooking in the sand all day, but it wasn’t entirely pleasant; it chilled to the bone until they got moving.

Delia took point, knowing how best to navigate the desert, “Okay, girls… it might sound like a lot, but I want to get us 50 miles tonight. We have the wind to our backs tonight and the dunes are much more level than before. If all goes well, we’ll be around 310 miles in; we can likely hit the halfway point tomorrow night. Our goal before lunch is this rock formation… It’s supposed to look like a chair, I hear. Though resting a day at the formation may be a good idea; a true oasis occurs near there.”

Loress loaded one of their food-bags into the wagon, “How’s the terrain after this ‘chair’ thing?”

Delia shrugged, “It depends on the time of the year… A lot of shifting winds can create some crazy dunes but I’m not sure. Back in the city we only hear about that side of the desert from those traveling north.”

Ama joined Loress, dropping another tarp into the wagon, “And because of the plague down south, you have heard nothing…”

Delia didn’t like thinking about it, but it was true, “Yes. It’s true what we heard: nopony that’s gone down there since late winter has been heard from again.”

Dechaa complained, “And why are we going there again?”

Zyra cuffed the other unicorn, “For the Hell of it, of course.”

All the girls but Dechaa laughed. They’d agreed to go but not just for the Hell of it; they’d made a promise to go and even Dechaa had agreed. The thought of dying in some fucking jungle was pretty scary but they were young, full of beans, and still just overconfident enough to think following the pioneering spirit was an okay idea.

Plus, they had something to do back in the Dale. This was another thing upon which they’d agreed and without something to show for the journey, their reception at the Dale would be less than welcoming. King Dale said he wanted the Dragon Lance, housed in the temple at Salvatrix, and that’s what they’d try to find. Taking the lance though, if they even elected to enter the ancient temple, was still up for debate.

Even at this point the girls were just having a joyous time traveling together, despite a few grumblings with the desert climate. Still, if they didn’t think about an end-goal soon they may wind up with nothing material to show the world what they’d done.

After traveling for a time, Ama called up to Delia, “What type of place is Salvatrix? I have heard many things about it but know little.”

Delia knew enough about the place; it was about the only pony settlement worth talking about south of “Last Chance” City, “It’s an ancient city nestled in the jungle. It was built about 800 years ago by ponies looking to expand south. The plague is ubiquitous down there but its influence ebbs and flows overtime. Around 500 years ago they had an epidemic bad enough it drove away the ponies it didn’t kill. The only reasons it never becomes a pandemic is the desert isolating it and the disease’s tropical needs.

“About 100 years ago ponies began to move back there, and they started a new colony. There are plenty of resources down there and a lot of ponies are interested in sending them north; most of our sugar came from there. They even established a monarchy in the old city! But just this spring, we realized the plague blew up again and news has been slim to none…”

Most of the girls knew this well but one had special knowledge; Loress inputted, “The Dragon Lance, though… that’s another matter; it has an interesting history. It’s Terran-made and it’s more of a ceremonial piece than anything. It was forged 700 years ago as thanks to the old Kingdom of Salvatrix. When Terrow needed help against Albin in the east, the ponies of Salvatrix, allied with Terrow, sent a legion.

“But, naturally, when Salvatrix fell to the plague all those years ago, ponies did what we’re doing now: they trekked there to find treasure. The lance wound up being passed around the land, but it wound up in Fulco, up near the Dale.”

The Dragon Lance was no mere trinket but among the many treasures of Salvatrix it was minor; not everypony knew much about it.

Loress looked to the Dale mares, “Does one of you want to explain?”

They didn’t; they were still dwelling on the fact Essenta’s father had sicced Radulf’s erstwhile assassins on them and the nastiness of the war with Joeh.

But Essenta sighed; she knew best of anypony, “For the last couple centuries the lance was in Fulco. But during the war with Joeh—and by extension, Albin—the father of the King Fulco we know used it as a standard in battle. He had it in mind it was symbolic or something, ‘fighting the evils of Albin’, he said.

“But after the fighting was done—the condoned actions, that is—the representatives of Albin attending the peace-treaty signing had a stipulation for their full support: they wanted the lance returned to its proper place.”

Ama was nonplussed, “Why would they care? Salvatrix was an old enemy, though some centuries removed…”

Dechaa took over, “It didn’t make much sense to the Confederation of the Valley, either… But the representatives said it was to honor the ponies of Salvatrix for their bravery in the war with Terrow. They were enemies, yes, but the ponies from the south were said to have fought like warrior-poets. The lance was theirs, bound by honor, and even if the old Kingdom of Salvatrix was long gone, it could still reside in the temple it was meant to be in. In fact, over the last few decades, many efforts have been made by several countries to restore the treasures of Old Salvatrix to their rightful places, under the guise of international cooperation.”

Essenta took it back, “But my father complained about it constantly. He thought they made the demand out of spite and little else. I tell you… until after he ‘saddled’ me with this fucking ‘task’ I thought it was just a myth, that the lance never did exist. I thought he was just full of shit all these years, upset about nothing and crazy.”

Loress smiled, “But it’s very real and it’s quite a sight, I hear. The reason it was taken so many years ago was a lack of protection over it; the plague hit so quickly the country and its treasures were never fully safeguarded. But a decade ago when the lance was returned, the mages of New Salvatrix figured out how to activate the old temple’s defenses. It was a ruin the new society never utilized but its defenses are said to be as fearsome as the day the temple was first constructed.”

Ama considered all this, “So your father, the asshole he is, demanded you to go on this quest, make it to this temple, find this artifact, and bring it back to him?”

Essenta giggled; it was always amusing when Ama used foul language, “Yes, indeedy.”

It seemed strange Essenta could laugh at all over her father, but sometimes the only choices are to laugh or cry. And King Dale wasn’t worth the tears.

Ama was perplexed, “Why?”

Essenta turned with an ironic grin, “Why are we thinking about defiling the correct and proper residence of the Dragon Lance or why does my father, the asshole that he is, want the lance?”

Ama answered, “The latter.”

Zyra had a cynical idea, “Since King Dale lost the chance to sell off Essenta for the prince of Fulco, perhaps he thought he might be able to peddle the lance to his old friend; that scheming bastard in Fulco would likely do anything to see it back in his kingdom’s possession.”

Dechaa piped up, not much happier with the chill of the night over the heat of the day, “He never thought anything of getting anything from Sen… He figured she’d run back to him or die…”

Essenta shook her head at her friend’s surliness, trying not to laugh, “Dechaa’s got it.”

Ama beamed, “Oh, Essenta! Prince Fulco was the one with whom you did those naughty things, is he not?”

The girls that knew about that tittered.

Essenta, still occasionally thinking fondly of Prince Asklepiades Fulco, blushed, “We got drunk… and I tried to kiss him… That’s all that happened.”

This was true enough, but she’d also danced with him.

Zyra smirked to the assemblage, “But if the guards hadn’t found the two, I bet they’d have been married the next day, if you catch my drift! That woulda been something.”

Essenta gave a self-deprecating snork, “You’re right… Sometimes I do wish I’d just dragged him off to a hay-barn somewhere…”

It was just after breakfast that the rock formation came into sight. The night hadn’t been bad; the company’s cheer had been good and the walking tolerable. Still, the girls were good and ready for a rest.

Zyra asked Delia, “I’ve heard tell about the jungle natives from the old-timers at my magic guild. Do you know much about them?”

Wilka was near the rear, pulling the wagon; it was still no chore with its enchantments, “The natives of Salvatrix? I thought they died off with Old Salvatrix.”

Dechaa grumbled to nopony in particular, “I thought they were a myth.”

Ama considered, “Some of the old mares of Mazan speak of creatures in the southern jungles… But they are not ponies.”

Delia reflected, “I’ve never seen or met one, certainly, but we hear stories. And Ama’s right; they’re not ponies. And they haven’t died off, as far as we know.”

Loress had heard something about the jungle natives; she was from a “crossroads of the continent”, after all, “They’re not ponies? I heard they were unicorns.”

Delia chuckled, “They have an interesting magic but they’re definitely not unicorns. Anypony heard of the qilin? Sometimes they’re called kirins? They’ve lived in the jungles since, well, forever—at least a Hell-of-a lot longer than ponies ever did.”

“Sure,” Essenta responded. “I think so.”

Delia lectured, “Qilin are chimerical creatures: they resemble unicorns, in that they have a single horn and a pony’s shape, but they have the qualities of dragons too, like scales. And they have cloven-hooves.”

Zyra questioned, “So they’re more closely related to sheep and goats and cows and stuff?”

Delia shrugged, “Dunno. But they apparently haven’t come north of the jungles in a few hundred years, leading many to think they’ve died off… but some coming through ‘Last Chance’ say otherwise. Their numbers have always been on the low side and there just aren’t that many of them anyway; they tend to stay isolated in clans.”

Dechaa was curious, knowing of medicine, “How’d they avoid the plague? Did they just stay away from the ponies and the cities?”

Delia shook her head, “The qilin kept minimal contact with ponies… but that’s not what saved them. Remember the plague is everywhere down there. They’re unaffected by it; it’s likely that they adapted alongside it, which is more than we can say of ponies.”

Loress knew her history well enough, “I know the continent had better knowledge of the south when this was all steppe.”

Orni wondered, “The desert we’re in now used to be steppe?”

Loress nodded, “It was 400 years ago the Fourth Great Famine hit down here. The land became the desert we know and that’s what caused the famine. It only took a few decades for the savannah to become this.”

Delia kept paddling along, “Oh, yes… and that is the main reason ponies didn’t try to resettle the jungle earlier. Hundreds of miles of desert with some jungle waiting on the other side… Yeah…”

Zyra chortled, “Already regretting your choice of coming along?”

Delia grinned ferally at the mage, “Not yet… this still beats the ever-loving fuck out of scrubbing out shithouses…”

The fact Delia actually did such things made the observation all the grosser; many a good groan and laugh was had.

Ama hooted buoyantly, “Oh, my… So, what else do they say about the place?”

Delia’s mouth worked, as if she were chewing, “Welp… Legend tells the qilin were once much more numerous. They built a city, deep in the jungle… it’s said they built this huge pyramid to house the ashes of all their deceased… and it’s all made of gold.”

It was obvious, looking at Delia, she was putting on a show; but the story wasn’t something she just pulled out of her ass.

The others halted, wowed by such an idea… all but one.

Ama laughed, “Such a place would not be structurally sound! And to think there would be enough of such a rare metal to build a city… It is folly!”

It could be said the others sometimes envied Ama’s innocence in so many matters.

Delia guffawed, “Ama, you aren’t just pissing in the wind; it is folly! That’s why it’s just a legend.”

Ama smiled, “Oh, what fun stories can be… But imagine! A city of gold… That would certainly be something to tell my queen of; I will still have quite the tale to tell someday, when I finally return home.”

Delia saw Ama’s cheeks pinken very slightly at her musings; it at once slighted and warmed her heart knowing there were ponies like Ama in the world. The former maid liked to think Ama was able to see the very best in ponies, no matter what else they showed… and she was likely correct.

Delia, the only one to see Ama’s blush, could’ve teased her… but she didn’t want to, “Yes, Ama… Quite a thing it would be.”

The chair-like rock formation was certainly a sight, dwarfing the nothingness around it; but that was not their goal, they knew filing past it. Over the next set of sand dunes was the oasis. The mid-morning sun had already scorched the Earth and the mares craved shade.

Delia sniffed the air, again taking point, “Smell that, girls?”

The others halted, sniffing the air; Orni recognized it at once, “Fresh water.”

Delia turned to the girls, her face beaming, “And it’s not just some tiny oasis or well in the ground… I didn’t want to get your hopes up, but it seems the oasis is at its zenith.”

Ama tilted her head, “‘Zenith’?”

Dechaa clarified, “It means ‘peak’ or ‘at its greatest’.”

“Oh,” the Mazan said.

“Yes,” Delia looked as if she’d burst. “Everypony over the last dune!”

Whooping and hollering, the former maid barreled up the dune. By the time the others thought to do the same, Delia was already near the top.

Delia came to the top of the dune and looked down, wonder crossing her features, “Oh, my… Get up here!”

Not 10 seconds later the rest made it to the top; their jaws collectively dropped.

This was no mere oasis; it was a lake!

“Holy shit!” Zyra exclaimed.

“Where the fuck did all this water come from?!” Essenta was amazed.

The mares cheered at the sight. Around the lake, trees and grasses sprouted. They could hear birds chirping and insects humming happily.

Loress was so happy to see that much water she could’ve cried; but being the “responsible” one, she tried to calm the girls, “Alright… let’s set up camp… Then we can—”

Her words were lost on the light breeze as five of the mares galloped down the dune; Wilka even left the wagon behind. Ama, Loress, and Delia all watched as the rest of them began to strip down to their fur coats; by the time they hit the bottom they were in their horsey birthday-suits, storming into the water. Their tunics and other clothing littered the side of the dune.

Loress sighed, “Oh, those girls…”

Delia guffawed at the sight.

Ama grinned, “I will tend to the wagon.”

As the Mazan harnessed up, Loress looked worriedly to Delia; she asked, “Uh, Delia… do oases have alligators and stuff?”

Delia began to trot down the dune, “Doubtful. We’re pretty isolated out here, pal. Plus, there’s not much of a food supply out here for a large predator; too cold at night, too…”

This gave still little reassurance to Loress as she helped guide the wagon down to the lakeside.

An hour later it was clear there were no large predators around and the girls had a merry time in the late-morning sun, going hog-wild in the water. Hastily having set up camp in and around a patch of palm trees, the remaining three had joined their friends in the lake. Normally at this time they’d be huddled in a hole, stifled with heat and dozing; that day they would barely even sleep.

Loress and Dechaa made lunch and even that was hard to get some of the girls to sit down for; normally food took precedence even over fun.

They played hard but knowing they had to get some rest they figured on tiring themselves out and sleeping until the early evening. As tempting as it was to stay overnight and enjoy another day at the oasis they decided against it; the faster they crossed the desert, the better.

Still, they were perfectly content playing for a time after lunch. Their freshly done laundry was drying, they didn’t have to go searching for water, and things couldn’t be much better.

Essenta cheerfully floated on her back, buffeted by the rippling effect of Zyra and Ama’s roughhousing.

Glancing to the side, she saw Loress and Wilka perched on a rock; the little Pegasus was trying to get Loress to jump. Essenta snickered; Loress punched a dragon but was afraid of a 10-ft drop into water. But in the end, fear is fear; Essenta was afraid of mice and rats, despite their relative harmlessness. Maybe Loress was just bad with heights…

Dechaa had already worn herself out and Orni was presently snoozing on a flat rock in the middle of the pond.

That left—

Bonk.

“Sorry, Essenta,” Delia murmured. “Just going where the waves take me…”

Like Essenta, Delia was floating on her back; they’d bumped heads, but it didn’t hurt.

Essenta splashed a little, better situating herself for a chat, “It’s alright, Delia. This place… I never imagined we’d see such a thing out here.”

“Like I said, we got lucky,” Delia bobbed a bit in the water. “Depending on the overall cycle, I hear this place can dry up into a puddle.”

“That explains the lack of fish… but I saw a few frogs,” Essenta paddled to stay in place. “It’s amazing anything could stay alive here…”

“They burrow in the mud when the lake recedes; in essence, they hibernate.”

The princess smiled, closing her eyes, “You sure do know a lot…”

Delia snorted, “Other than cleaning up about all there was to do on the job was keep my ears open. I’ve heard things that could sink ships, countries, relationships… It’s all about keeping the ears open, Essenta.”

Essenta, seeing the sun red behind her eyelids, thought a moment, “Delia…”

“Yeah?”

“Really… You and Clovis weren’t a thing?” Essenta asked demurely; she didn’t mean to tease.

Delia snorted, “Really, this again? What’s with you girls? You’re all like a bunch of convent fillies, or something… Never been with stallions, I bet…”

The former maid didn’t mean to be unkind, but she’d been pestered regarding her relationship with Clovis repeatedly by the other mares. But she understood to a degree; she and Clovis had a most interesting relationship, with all its twists and turns and the love/hate.

Essenta flustered, “Well, I, uh…”

Delia reached over a hoof and poked the princess, “Hey, I’m sorry. Not everypony’s like me… I gotta remember that I was a… well, a…”

Essenta stopped her, “You don’t have to say it, Delia.”

Delia sighed, hooves behind her head, “Thanks for that… Let’s just say it paints a whole new picture.”

They drifted a moment, silent.

“But… you’re right. Only one of us has ever been with a stallion, as far as I know,” Essenta admitted.

Delia suspected this already but was surprised the princess knew; she was sure Essenta had given her no indication of such a thing and neither had the rest, “And it’s a most unpleasant tale, I can tell…”

“It was pretty bad,” Essenta acknowledged. “It… caused some trouble between Dechaa and me.”

What? Things weren’t adding up in Delia’s head. Essenta and Dechaa?

“Yeah?” Delia wasn’t seeing it.

Essenta blushed, looking to the sky, “A prince that visited the Dale last year… I liked him… and Dechaa, she…”

Delia realized something: they weren’t talking about the same mare; she covered herself, “Oh, yeah, that… I guess I heard something about it once when the girls were talking.”

It was a gamble, but girls talked; Delia felt it was a safe bet… and if it wasn’t… hopefully Essenta wouldn’t be upset with the other mares.

Essenta soured, “It comes up, sometimes.”

“I suppose…” Delia was relieved; of course, the other girls talked about it—it was normal for young mares.

The former maid found it hard to believe a mare like Dechaa was capable of hooking a prince, but she’d seen a lot of crazy shit the last couple weeks… It was the kind of shit that had other ponies questioning God or abandoning reason. But for Essenta’s company, said shit seemed like their bread and butter. Dechaa getting some wasn’t beyond the pale and she found herself curious as to what she’d gotten up to…

Loress, who’d summoned the courage to jump after much heckling, was trotting in the shallows; she called out to the girls, “Everypony! Come ashore! We need to get some rest.”

Essenta groaned, “Already?!”

Loress called back; she was a little shaken from the jump, “Suck it, Princess, and get ashore!”

Zyra guffawed at the statement and went ashore with no hesitation; nopony else complained.

Delia, disappointed to leave the water but very glad she wouldn’t be digging any deeper regarding the sex-capades of the company, paddled to shore.

Loress addressed them all, Essenta coming up last, “Unless somepony else wants first watch, I’ll do it.”

Nopony else volunteered and that was fine. They had six hours to rest and only four or five would have to actually wake up. Divvying up the responsibility, Zyra, Ama, and Wilka were to be undisturbed that day; they’d take another day when they all had a short rest.

Taking a little water and not bothering to dry off, they settled into their shelters; the lack of humidity sapped the moisture from their coats and for the first time in days, they’d have a cool sleep.

Loress yawned, electing to sit up in a tree that gave her a view; she looked forward to her own nap in about an hour.

The sun was already setting by the time the girls began preparing to get back to walking. Delia, having last watch, had spent time preparing their dinner. With the oasis came plenty of dried wood so she elected to make a meal cooked over a fire for the first time in nearly a week.

The smell of spicy cress soup was most welcome upon waking; they fell upon it, with loaves of crusty bread on the side. Delia enjoyed a little heat and savory quality to her dishes, so the abundance of water—doing little to soothe their tingly lips, tongues, and throats—pacified the saltiness. Still, after playing half the day they needed a little salt.

“Oh, I’m gonna miss this place…” Dechaa magicked an orb of water from the lake, dousing the fire. “I haven’t had that much fun since Renata…”

The girls that had been in Renata concurred; Delia had to take their word on the matter.

And it had been fun, but it was time to go. They hastily packed the wagon and stocked up on water.

Zyra giggled, asking the assemblage, “If we don’t die, can we visit on the way back?”

A few laughed but not many; they still had a lot of desert to cover. They eyed each other nervously.

Ama bonked the mage on the head, “Do not jest on such matters. We will be fine, I hope. Though I would not be against coming back.”

Delia recognized Zyra’s front but didn’t call her out, “Okay, enough silliness, Zyra. We did good last night and made the 50 miles. The terrain’s the same but the wind’s died, so we don’t have to worry much one way or the other. Considering we’re 40 miles to halfway across I don’t think it’s happening tonight; we all had a little too much fun today, so we may just have to settle on 30.”

Nopony argued; other than Loress and Wilka, with their notable—in Wilka’s case, magical—resilience, their limbs felt a little heavy from all the swimming they’d done.

Essenta was wobblier than she liked, “Okay. Let’s go.”

With clean clothes, clean bodies, and a hot meal resting in their stomachs Essenta’s little company, feeling refreshed and happy, if a little tired from their day of fun, left the oasis behind them.

Author's Note

Check out the Appendix for Princess Essenta, updated as the story moves along. It shows the story's timeline and character designs. Contains spoilers.

The little company has just about made it halfway across the Great Southern Desert. Beyond the sands lie the jungle and their goal, Salvatrix.

This was meant to be a fun chapter with a few informative story-building and world-building aspects. Not meant to be a filler-chapter; try not to be put off by the lukewarm atmosphere and conclusion. The desert has plenty in store for them, past the halfway mark. And I promise you it won't take as long story-wise to cross the desert as it took the girls to get away from "Last Chance" City.

If you enjoy Princess Essenta, please take a look at Larkspur Blossom. A story of a colt finding his worth and making a better life for himself.

Also look for The Virgin Company. A tale of a military pony and his platoon in a war centuries ago.

Like, follow, or leave a comment if you please. It's been fun writing and I'm glad some enjoy it.

Thanks for reading, and take care.

Chapter 39: A Different Sort of Plague

Desolate Places Arc

Essenta’s little company was traveling in the moonlight. Six days and about 300 miles separated them from the super-fun oasis in which they’d had all that fun; a couple weeks and 620 miles had gone by. They’d slowed down a bit, the last couple nights being very cold; a north wind had been harassing them, dropping the temperature to freezing.

Essenta was relating a joke she’d heard at some point in the journey; she hoped to keep their minds off the cold, “There’s this old stallion lying drunk in the street in some town. He’s old as all Hell and nopony pays much attention to him.

He tells everypony that comes near, ‘My dick died.’

Everypony hears the same thing, him whining about his dick dying.

The constable approaches him, just to make sure he isn’t causing any trouble, ‘You okay, old-timer?’

The ancient stallion replies, ‘My dick died.’

Figuring the old one was just off his rocker the constable left him alone.

But the next day the old son-of-a-bitch is lying in the same place and he’s got his tunic open; his dick’s hanging out, all flopped across the ground.

The constable heard screaming from some little fillies and went to see. Sure enough, he finds a bunch of ponies running from the old stallion’s ‘hangout’ spot.

Upon seeing the geriatric fool displaying his dick, the constable asks him, ‘What do you think you’re doing?!’

The old stallion can barely lift his head, ‘I told you and everypony else yesterday my dick died…’

The constable was flummoxed, ‘So why’s your tunic open?!’

‘Today’s the viewing.’”

The girls cracked up, but the chill took a lot of joy out of things.

Ama shivered, remembering her time in the north, “Oh, I would have been content to never feel this again.”

Delia’s teeth chattered; she was more accustomed to the cold, but it had been quite a shift, “Yeah… This is unusual. But a north wind’s a north wind.”

They trudged along, extra clothes wrapped around their ears, in hopes they wouldn’t chip off. The cold the last few nights had been so bad they’d even considered traveling more in the daytime, but it was still hot as the hinges of Hell in daylight, so they just stayed the course.

Zyra was third in line; she called up to Delia, taking point as usual, “Hey, floor-scrubber! This still beat hosing out shithouses?!”

Delia turned and reflected Zyra’s feral smile, “No, but it beats scrubbing up bloodstains…”

Loress shuddered, “Oh, please, no more of that… If I have to think about that monster Melchior scrubbing up his fucking bloodstains anymore, I may vomit…”

Zyra giggled, referencing something said by Loress just days earlier, “Well, then we’d at least have a hot meal.”

The girls groaned as one and Loress came close to gagging. It was funny as shit but the Terran now regretted telling that filthy joke about the starving stallions in the desert; it was now slightly less amusing, considering they were in the desert themselves, freezing their tails off.

Once the laughter had subsided, Delia apologized; it was a line she’d better try to observe, “Sorry… not thinking everything through in this weather. It was a bad attempt at a joke.”

“You have plenty of those,” Ama quipped.

The girls chuckled, and Delia allowed it; it was all in good fun, “Yeah, I tell you though… if I didn’t manage a little humor in my life, there’s no telling where I’d be.”

Ama answered, “Clovis said the very same thing of Salvo; his good humor saved Clovis and their friends many a time.”

Delia smiled warmly, “I guess I never told any of you, but I dated Salvo for a time.”

This was a stunner; Ama gasped, “Really, you did?”

Delia nodded, “When we were about 16, we got to be pretty good friends. I was on decent terms with all of Clovis’s friends but Salvo especially. We got a little more involved than was strictly healthy. Melchior didn’t care if his employees… and slaves mingled but we couldn’t marry or anything.”

“What happened?” Dechaa, of all ponies (not all that surprising, though), was really curious.

Delia said, “Nothing much… We were just a couple kids… fooling around some.”

Ama just had to say something; she had no ulterior motives, “I am sure that caused some trouble with Clovis.”

The former maid didn’t want to talk about it but knew Ama meant no harm; she allowed herself a smile that resembled a grimace, “Of course it caused trouble with Clovis. His two best friends, screwing around… it’d tick most ponies off.”

The girls could believe that.

“But that wasn’t it… at all,” Delia continued. “And it wasn’t that he didn’t carry a torch for me, because he did.”

This, not all of them understood; Essenta perked up, “Then… what?”

Wilka spoke; they hadn’t heard a peep out of her in hours, “A freepony and a slave… can’t marry… They’d probably only find sadness.”

It may have surprised a few of them to hear that from Wilka, but not Delia, and a couple others.

Delia nodded slowly, “That’s the nail on the head… Clovis didn’t mean to hurt me or Salvo but he knew it would only be trouble. Salvo and I realized this, and we broke it off.”

Realizing the note of sadness in Delia’s voice, the others were unsure what to say.

The messy-maned mare grinned larger than they’d seen that night; she wasn’t sure if she wanted to say it, but she decided to, “But slaves can marry. Clovis was always my friend and he gave up his freedom for me; if that’s not a friend I don’t know what is. It got me thinking… When I was still looking at another 13 or 14 years and Clovis was looking at more than 20… I once asked him if he’d ever want to marry a filly like me, when we were 17.”

The others didn’t know what to make of this; they were caught in between squee and bleh.

Orni was probably more invested than the rest, “And…?”

“We laughed about it,” Delia giggled. “We were friends… good friends. But… I think I could see that. We never said ‘no way’.”

Ama mused, eying the stars, “What a lovely thought…”

Again, doubting Ama’s taste in stallions the girls hoped for a new topic; things were getting creepy, with all the thinking of Clovis.

Loress suggested, “Anypony want to sing a song, or something?”

The Terran had made herself the sacrificial virgin; somepony had to change the topic and she of all of them had to be the one to seem embarrassed and childish regarding talking about stallions though they all wanted a new direction.

Ama snickered; they had plenty of recent dirt on Loress, “What bothers you, Loress? Does this have you thinking of that Jaska fellow?”

The others giggled, not unkindly.

Even in the cold and moonlight Loress’s blush was evident, “Oh, leave me alone about that!”

She didn’t mean to push Ama so hard but wound up sending her more than a few yards with what was meant to be a friendly shove.

Ama yelped, spiraling into the next dune over.

The girls stood aghast, Loress covering her mouth with a shocked hoof.

But Ama sat up, laughing hard in her “crater”, “I am fine, girls!”

Not sure whether to be amused at her not being hurt or horrified at Loress’s power the girls decided not to mess with the Terran anymore.

“I think a song’s a lovely idea,” Delia offered. “Anypony know ‘Barnacle Bill the Sailor’?”

Delia knew “Barnacle Bill the Sailor”; and she knew about 200 verses of it, it seemed. It was after dawn and they were still singing it.

“Next call is ‘What if you should go to jail, etc.?’, okay?” Delia had been coaching them along.

The other seven replied with:

“What if you should go to jail? What if you should go to jail? What if you should go to jail?” cried the fair young maiden.

Delia leered and drawled in a deep voice:

“Well… With a whip of my cock I’ll break the lock!” said Barnacle Bill the Sailor.

“With a swing of my balls I’ll knock down the walls!” said Barnacle Bill the Sailor.

“I’ll fight ‘n fuck ‘n kill ‘n then I’ll drink me 16 quarts of gin! Old Bill he lives a life of sin!” said Barnacle Bill the Sailor.

They laughed, sure, but it was starting to wear thin.

“Cripes!” Essenta complained. “How long does this go on?!”

There were similar rumblings from the others.

“Yeah!” Orni made herself heard. “And Barnacle Bill already used his cock to pick another lock, didn’t he?”

Dechaa frowned, “Yeah… when he broke in through the front door she’d locked on him. That was lovely.”

Most of the verses were rather racy in nature, some worse than others.

Delia said right back, “You’re the ones that wanted to keep going! Things get redundant after a while…”

Sensing a fight, Ama decided to make the peace, “Girls, ‘Barnacle Bill’ was fun but let us just move onto something else.”

The Mazan was right; this was nothing to argue about. Nopony meant to be nasty; they’d just been stuck in the desert for more than a week, is all…

Delia sighed, “Sorry, girls…”

Essenta shook her head, “I’m sorry… I was the one that egged you on, earlier.”

Dechaa huffed, “How about everypony shuts up for a few minutes? This is the only time of the day the weather’s actually nice.”

It seemed a rude thing for Dechaa to say but she was right. The cold was burning off, quite literally, and the warm sunshine was very pleasant… for about 30 minutes.

So, they kept quiet for a bit, enjoying the rapid warm-up; within a few hours they’d be diving for shelter from the heat.

Listening to their stomachs, it was clearly breakfast time. While they could wait until they hunkered down for the day it had been found a little food really helped them in the late-morning schlep.

With the most comfortable part of the day and their fresh fruit starting to run low, they would travel a couple more hours, at least not hungry. They’d planned on and expected running out of fresh fruit. They were in the friggin’ desert, after all, and had enough dried fruit to feed them a while.

With satisfied bellies and a reasonably happy spirit, the company paddled across the sandy expanse and eventually found themselves singing again. They greatly enjoyed the different songs their friends all brought to the table.

You get a line and I’ll get a pole
Honey, honey
You get a line and I’ll get a pole
Baby, baby
You get a line and I’ll get a pole
We’ll go down to the fishin’ hole

Honey, oh baby, be mine

I had a colt who lived on a creek
Honey, honey
I had a colt who lived on a creek
Baby, baby
I had a colt who lived on a creek
He was cute, and he was sweet

Honey, oh baby, be mine

Whatcha gonna do if the lake runs dry?
Honey, honey?
Whatcha gonna do if the lake runs dry?
Baby, baby?
Whatcha gonna do if the lake runs dry?
We’ll fight and screw 'til the morning-time!

Honey, oh baby, be mine

They barely made it through the last, brief refrain; all of them broke up and guffawed. Zyra had hijacked the last line of the third verse. It was supposed to be slightly more wholesome, but they had a cheap laugh. The line was meant to be “we’ll sit on the shore and watch the fishes die” (not much nicer, really).

Their sides hurting from laughing most of the morning, they climbed yet another dune. At the top they halted; there was something odd ahead. For the first time since the oasis they saw another living creature, or in this case, many.

Crossing the peak of a dune they saw that a flock of vultures was circling about a point around one-hundred yards ahead.

They didn’t even have to say anything; their eyes met, and they took off running towards the scene. There was something up ahead.

Dechaa and Zyra weren’t the first to reach the spot the birds gravitated towards, but they were the first to shoo them away.

“Git!” cried Zyra, giving the vultures a small jolt.

Dechaa joined her, zapping a few of the birds.

The vultures were deterred but being the vermin that they were didn’t abandon the area; they circled nearby or kept a short distance from the company, eyeing the situation.

“Oh, geez…” Loress breathed.

It was a sorry sight: a Pegasus stallion of indeterminable age lay before them. He looked beyond pathetic, his eyes glazed over, his ribs visible. Hell, he looked dead.

“Oh, man… How long you think he’s been here?” Zyra didn’t want to get any closer and neither did the rest.

Dechaa went up, though, and looked at him, “I don’t know, maybe since last night—”

“Water…” croaked the stallion.

Dechaa squealed and jumped, nearly soiling her tunic, “Yipe!”

They all leapt back. They had figured him dead.

“Water…” the stallion repeated.

Dechaa was freaked out but acted fast, “Ama! Loress! Grab a couple tarps! Wilka! Fly up real quick and look for shelter! Somepony get me a canteen and a rag!”

The mares did what they were bade, Orni retrieving water.

Resting the stallion’s head in Zyra’s lap, Dechaa wet his brow and eyes. The stallion blinked at the water; he was at least responsive. His eyes moistened and they began to flutter. She dribbled a little water between his chapped lips.

Dechaa gave him a moment. Upon responding positively, she gave him a little more water. He was swallowing on his own, whether aware or not of doing so. She sat him up a little higher in Zyra’s lap, the others looking on.

Dechaa tried talking, “Sir… can you hear me?”

His eyes drooped open, having been closed a moment. Eyeing the canteen, his hooves shot towards it. Dechaa managed to keep hold of it and only allowed him a few swallows. But he choked and began coughing.

Seeing he was more alert Dechaa gave him a little more. He realized he couldn’t chug it, so he sipped of his own free-will, apparently.

“Good…. Good…” Dechaa crooned. “That’s the way.”

His eyes swiveled her way; he attempted to speak, “…”

He didn’t seem able to say anything, but his breathing began to steady out and deepen.

She could see he was aware to some degree, but he was still semi-conscious. His eyes closed again, but his breathing kept up.

Dechaa looked up to the girls, “A little later in the day and there’s no way he’d have been alive. I think we saved him.”

It was a relief and they didn’t even know the fellow.

“Hey!” Wilka called from above. “There’s a rock formation a few dunes ahead! It has a little cave!”

Dechaa nodded to her, “Lead the way!”

Motioning to the others, Dechaa levitated him as they got the tarp laid out on the wagon. With their lucky find secure, Dechaa sat with him while they double-timed the wagon over the dunes in the direction of their promised shelter.

The girls took turns watching over the stallion, sleeping as they were able. But his plight kept many of them from sound sleep.

Too weak to do much more than sip water, watching over him was easy enough. A Pegasus, they didn’t have to worry about him having a seizure or freaking out and his magic blowing up; he might have a fit, but it wouldn’t put them at risk.

They didn’t want to, but the company had settled on remaining there for a day, resting in the cave. They had plenty of water and enough food to see them a few extra days.

Not having had anything hot to eat since the oasis Loress had Zyra supply a little heat; they made a thin soup to go with everything, in hopes of giving their guest a little nourishment. After easing the stallion through the day, they were glad to see him gaining fluid. They didn’t give him too much water but were relieved to see him urinate after dinner; his body was at least working.

The temperature outside dropped like a rock off a cliff once the sun dipped below the horizon. Holing up the entire day, the princess wanted to stretch her legs. But first she had to talk to Dechaa.

“He say anything about who he was?” Essenta asked.

Dechaa shook her head, “No… The others say the same. About all he’s done is ask for water. I’m just glad we got the soup down his throat. The salt might perk him up enough that he can do more than just lie there. He might even be able to have fruit in the morning; giving him juice might help, too.”

Essenta nodded, “Okay. I’m going out for a little walk.”

“Don’t go too far. I can’t imagine there’s anything out there but watch out.”

“Of course,” Essenta replied, ducking out.

It felt good to stretch. She’d go back inside soon enough; it would be down to freezing before she knew it.

“Princess,” Loress said.

Essenta turned and saw Loress with Delia in tow… just the mares she wanted to talk to. Essenta wouldn’t say it out loud, but with Delia’s background, knowledge, and maturity compared to some of the other mares, she’d in her mind put her at “third-in-command”.

“Girls,” Essenta answered.

They sat on a nearby boulder, still warm from the sun… much warmer than the air around them.

Delia considered, “This guy came from the jungle, I’m sure.”

Loress nodded, “Once he can tell us himself, he may defy our logic, but… yeah… I don’t see much other possibility.”

Essenta twiddled her hooves, “Delia… you and Dechaa looked at him. No sign of plague?”

Delia nodded, “If we thought he had the plague he wouldn’t be in there with us. He’s… ‘fine’, if you want to call it that; he was just dehydrated. It wouldn’t surprise me if he was actually fine yesterday… a few hours out here in the day with no water can do that to you, what we saw.”

“I wonder what happened to him…” Loress played with her hooves.

It seemed a dumb thing to even say, but it was a shared thought.

“No way to know until he tells us something…” Essenta leaned back on the boulder, enjoying the heat. “Oh, what I wouldn’t give for a fire tonight…”

The stallion must’ve been feeling “better” because he woke with a start, jabbering and screaming.

Wilka, keeping watch that hour, almost fell on her back scrambling away from him, “Whoa!”

The others woke up too, and briefly saw his wild eyes rolling in their sockets; he didn’t seem all there.

Dechaa had anticipated this happening and had a plan: Zyra magicked a blanket around him while the healer herself went in close and gave him a dose of “calm”. She’d used it more than she cared to, weeks back, when Zyra was having her trouble after the raid.

He calmed down and fell back to sleep, almost instantly. The others were relieved; it had given them a fright.

Dechaa sat back and sighed, “I think he was just having a nightmare…”

Zyra had noticed too, his mind, “Yeah… you dope him up a little?”

“Yeah…” Dechaa looked to the stallion. “He should sleep soundly until morning…”

The stallion slept a while; all the girls slept a while too. During the dawn watch, Zyra’s, they caught him trying to run away.

Ama grabbed him as he stumbled across her; he’d certainly startled her, waking her up, “Ho! Wake up, girls!”

The others woke rather quickly, surrounding the scene.

Ama simpered, “Our guest is alive, it seems.”

Essenta barked at Zyra, “How’d you let this happen?!”

Zyra scowled, but it had been her watch.

Dechaa defended the mage, “Calm down everypony. Sen, none of us is used to this; about now we’d be on the move. She just fell asleep.”

The stallion, not all there, yelled in a panic. Ama held him easily; he wasn’t trying to hurt anypony, but merely struggling.

Essenta leered at him, “Are you mad?! We just saved you and now you’re trying to run off into the daytime?!”

“Sen, shut up!” Dechaa’s voice came sharp, getting the princess to flinch. “He’s not in his right mind! Yelling won’t help.”

The girls watched as Dechaa knelt down. Her horn lit up and she touched his shoulder. After a moment, he calmed, but not to the degree he was knocked out.

“Ama, help him sit,” Dechaa ordered.

The Mazan did so, cradling his head so it wouldn’t flop.

Dechaa gave him a trickle of water, which he responded positively to, “There… Yeah, just a little…”

His eyes, fuzzy with exhaustion and panic, cleared after a moment. He blinked and seeing the canteen, pulled it in and started sucking it down.

“Not so much, you’ll just get sick,” Dechaa advised, pulling the canteen away.

The stallion didn’t quite get sick but sputtered and coughed. Dechaa gave him a moment, letting him have it out. His hacking subsided after a bit and he relaxed his head.

For the umpteenth time, Dechaa tried to get something out of him, “Sir… can you hear me?”

Leaning on Ama, breathing heavily, his eyes sagged open, “Where am I…?”

Dechaa and the others gave a sigh of relief; he seemed fine-ish.

The healer came up close, “You’re among friends. I’m Dechaa.”

His continence registered blearily, “Dechaa… are you an angel?”

Dechaa snorked, “Oh, no… I’m just Dechaa.”

“What’s going on…?” he was fuzzy.

She didn’t want to tell him too much, setting him off, “You’re safe. What’s your name, sir?”

“…Hagano…”

“Hagano?”

“Yeah…” it was almost as if he were dreaming. “Just Hagano… No family name or anything…”

Dechaa flipped a little water into his face, hoping to perk him up, “Well, Hagano, you’re safe. You’re in a grotto with my friends and me. We found you yesterday morning in the desert. You were pretty dehydrated.”

It took a few seconds, but his eyes showed a clarity, “So… I’m not dreaming?”

Dechaa marshalled a smile, “No, Hagano. You’re awake and recovering nicely.”

His eyes cleared further; with little warning he freaked out, “Aaaaaaagh!”

Ama had let her guard down; Hagano, wailing on Ama with his wings as he scrambled, managed to get loose and just about to the cave’s entrance.

Zyra stopped him easily enough in a magic bubble, “Oh, no you don’t.”

The girls looked on in significant discomfort; Hagano was going bonkers, “They’re coming! Lemme go! Nopony came back! Lemme GOOOOOO!!”

“Shee-yit!” Zyra voiced. “What the fuck’s his problem?!”

Dechaa managed to keep a cool head, “He’s just panicky, girls.”

Again, Dechaa gave him a little “calm”.

Watching Hagano drop off like syphilis, Essenta grimaced, “Maybe he’s just nuts to begin with.”

The healer was unamused, “Don’t say such things, Sen. Let’s see what happens to any of us after what he’s been through. I wouldn’t be surprised if he was lying there since yesterday afternoon. I’m astonished he didn’t freeze to death last night…”

Ama got Hagano resituated on the heap of blankets they’d laid out, “Poor fellow.”

Delia nodded, “Yes…”

In silence, they regarded the poor fellow; they wished there was something to do for him… other than wait and see.

As if channeling their thoughts, Loress put up a hoof, “Uh, I don’t know what you all think, but we can’t stay here another day or two. We didn’t plan for it. I know we have this stallion to watch over and we can’t just leave him… but he came from the jungle, we figure. We need answers. And since he doesn’t seem to be calming down…”

Dechaa pondered, “Can Zyra and I lull a little out of him while I have him sedated?”

Loress hadn’t been the most eloquent but that was what they all wanted, “Yes. We have a lot to ask him.”

Essenta eyed Loress, “Ask him if we should even go any further?”

Everypony tensed up; the princess didn’t sound pleased.

Loress stammered, “Well, I, uh…”

“It’s fine, Loress,” Essenta sighed.

She looked over the assemblage. They’d decided to go through with their quest, but faced with this? It would be stupid to not make that final decision while they still had time; with their food and water they could still make it back to the oasis.

“Yes…” Essenta looked at Hagano. “We need to hear what he has to say.”

Dechaa sat next to Hagano, “Well, that’s easy. Zyra, come help me.”

Ama wondered, “You are not attempting to enter his mind, are you?”

It never even crossed their minds; Zyra smiled, “Not today. We’re just going to open him up to suggestion; we can ask him anything we want and not worry about him freaking out again.”

The girls gathered around.

Dechaa cast an aura over the stallion, “Zyra, help me maintain; you’re better at consistency than me.”

“Got it,” Zyra lit up her horn, grinning. “You know… this guy’s not too bad looking, now that we’ve gotten his water back up; maybe we should ask if he’s got himself a filly.”

While six of the girls got the joke and shook their heads at Zyra’s lame poke, one was reliably oblivious.

Ama was aghast, “That would be most incorrect to do, Zyra! Taking advantage of somepony that way, asking him such a thing!”

Loress tried to ease Ama’s worries, “Zyra’s joking, Ama; it was a bad joke.”

Ama relaxed, “Oh… very well, then.”

Delia spoke up, “I’m afraid though, we will have to take advantage of him.”

Orni was confused, ‘Wait, what?”

The rest didn’t fully understand either.

All the girls led very different lives. Delia lived more than half of her life in the service of a criminal; theirs was a dubious business at best. Hell, Delia had been trained in espionage to a degree. She knew the value of healthy skepticism.

With no malice in her voice, the former maid spoke her piece, “We don’t know a thing about this guy. We know his name—if that is his name—and that he was almost dead; that’s it. He could be a thief or murderer as easily as a tinsmith. We were careless this morning… If he was a bad sort and if he’d better had his wits about him, he could’ve stolen half our supplies… or cut our throats.”

This crude, but meaningful statement had the girls clutching their throats. It was extreme, sure, but not in the realm of impossibility.

Essenta nodded, gulping, “I see…”

“Would you like me to question him?” Delia asked.

“We’ll take turns,” Loress said. “Anypony has something they want to know, speak up.”

They murmured assent. It wasn’t a matter of having made up their minds about Hagano… they just knew jack-shit about him.

Zyra had taken over Dechaa’s initial spell, “He’s ready.”

Hagano looked asleep, but Zyra’s word meant more than his appearance.

Delia asked, “Will he be able to lie to us?”

It seemed a legitimate concern, but was very unlikely, given he'd be under suggestion.

But Zyra answered as best she could, “Unless he’s been brainwashed to a certain ‘depth’ or was trained or if he’s more magical than me… I wouldn’t worry.”

This was good enough for them.

Dechaa advised, “You’ll need to be very specific; it works best that way.”

Delia began; she leaned in close, “Tell us… what’s your name?”

In a few seconds, Hagano answered, “My name’s Hagano.”

“Any family name?” Delia persisted.

“No… just Hagano.”

“How long have you been in the desert?”

“Four days.”

“Does that include today?”

“Today?”

Delia explained; his thinking may have been disjointed, “We found you yesterday morning; you were unconscious, and we suspect you’d been there overnight.”

“I was?”

“We suspect… So, have you been in the desert four days?”

“I remember walking; it was very hot. That was four days.”

Delia nodded, “So almost a week…”

Hagano didn’t answer; Delia hadn’t given him enough “input”.

Delia looked to Essenta, “You or anypony else want to take over?”

“Keep going,” the princess encouraged.

Delia nodded, turning back to their guest, and went on, “Hagano… did you come from the jungle?”

“Yes.”

“Why are you alone?”

“I don’t think I’m alone.”

“When you were in the desert… why were you alone?”

“My crew didn’t make it.”

Delia cringed, “Did they die in the desert?”

“No.”

Delia took a few seconds before speaking again, “Did they die in the jungle?”

“I don’t know.”

What? Essenta and the girls exchanged glances.

Delia kept at it, “You don’t know if your friends died?”

“I don’t have any friends.”

Delia clarified; maybe he didn’t have friends, “You don’t know if your crew died in the jungle?”

“I don’t.”

Delia thought a moment; she turned to the rest, “Somepony else try.”

Loress moved in, “I’ll try.”

Delia got out of the way.

Loress came close to Hagano; she thought she’d try to be friendly. There wasn’t much point, considering they didn’t have to weasel anything out of him.

“Hagano… when did your crew cross the desert from ‘Last Chance’ City?” she assumed, given logic, they'd set out from there.

“We left before Spring.”

This may have meant they’d not known about the plague at first; Loress decided to wait with that, “How many of you were there?”

“There were 34 of us.”

That number shocked the girls. 34 crossed the desert to the jungle seven or eight months earlier and one came back…?

Loress leaned in again, “Why did you go to the jungle?”

“We had 25 fillies to sell to the Surf Guild.”

The girls did a take; Delia took on a most sour expression.

Loress was a little shocked; perhaps she’d heard wrong, “Uh… what? Why did you go to the jungle?”

“We had 25 fillies to sell to the Surf Guild.”

Loress stumbled away from him, “I… I can’t believe this…”

Delia looked ready to pounce on Hagano. The rest weren’t sure how to feel.

The former maid looked to her friends, “Well… we have us a slaver.”

Guided by the others, Delia had retaken to questioning; they realized quite a sordid tale.

Hagano was the first mate of a small pirate crew that had taken to land a while back. At the end of winter, they’d purchased 25 fillies from Melchior, from all over the continent, to be sex slaves—among other things—to the Surf Guild.

Delia had explained the Surf Guild was a notorious band of explorers bent on finding the ancient treasures of the jungle natives. They didn’t believe in a golden city or anything but there were plenty of precious items to be found in their old settlements. The guild had a well-known taste for fillies between the ages of 10 and 14. Sordid, indeed.

The pirate crew, nine strong, saw three of the fillies die in the desert; they left them to the buzzards. They also sampled a few of the more ‘developed’ ones that managed the trip.

Hagano’s crew made the sale and with nothing much else to do elsewhere, elected to join in the guild’s activities. They’d spent the spring and the summer finding some very interesting things and having some high times. They had good food, good booze, raucous company, and a lot of fillies to enjoy. They’d planned to head back to the big city before winter.

Several of the girls had to restrain themselves from killing him in his “sleep” or had otherwise excused themselves; Wilka ran outside, crying, and Orni went to comfort her. After a time, only Essenta and Delia remained, besides Zyra. Even Dechaa had left, literally sick to her stomach, leaving the capable Zyra to keep the spell up.

Upon hearing Hagano describe the “going away party” the Surf Guild threw for the nine pirates, Essenta left, furious tears streaming down her face.

Delia got up, sighing; they still had a lot of things to ask Hagano but it did little good with the first and second-in-command going soft. But the maid checked herself… this wasn’t about the girls going soft. They’d found a fucked up stallion; whether he’d have done anything to them, they were glad he’d been too weak to harm them earlier.

Delia turned to Zyra, “I think that’s all for now. See he stays asleep a while.”

Zyra nodded, looking rather ill. She’d sat there, having a more intimate connection than the rest with Hagano. Rather than hear his tale, she could see it to a degree.

Essenta had stormed outside, past the weeping Wilka and concerned Orni. The other girls that had “excused themselves” watched her trod away. It was only mid-morning and the temperature was at its ideal point.

Delia trotted after Essenta, “Hey!”

Essenta staggered a few more feet and sat atop a dune in a huff.

Delia stopped short. She knew how the princess felt, to a degree; for most of the girls, what they’d heard was the stuff of nightmares… for Delia, it was another day in “Last Chance” City.

“Essenta…” Delia voiced. “Are you alright?”

Essenta wiped a hoof across her face, wiping tears and snot away; she was crying, sure, but she was angry… too angry to speak.

Delia closed her eyes, “I don’t know what to tell you, Essenta… Life’s pretty fucked up in this part of the world.”

Essenta kept her gaze forward and spoke abruptly, “What the fuck are we doing, Delia…?”

Delia wasn’t the sort to take Essenta’s words, in this case, at face-value. She knew the princess was upset… out of her element; she was inexperienced with the darker side of the world, and they’d even seen some of the nastier parts of it, long before ever crossing the mountains in the south.

Still, Delia spoke her mind, “We’re trying to figure out what we should do next, Essenta. Don’t get rattled now.”

Essenta turned, her face slick with its orifical productions, “‘Rattled’, Delia…? You heard that… You lived that…”

Delia shuddered, “Yes… but I was one of the fortunate ones, if the word fits. Melchior kept me; it was easier to keep a leash on my dad if I was around… and by the time Dad died, I was too useful to sell for a fuck-doll.”

Essenta cringed at the last of Delia’s sentence, “Oh, why did I take you all out here?”

Still, Delia remained patient and amenable; perhaps she was the only one able to, just then, “We’re trying to figure out what we should do next, Essenta. Stand up.”

The princess needed a hoof with that and Delia gave her one. Leading the princess, Delia sat her down just outside the cave.

Delia motioned the others to them; she called, “Dechaa… go make sure Zyra’s put Hagano to bed for a good while; we need to talk… all of us.”

There were a few questions to which they needed to find some answers. Delia didn’t want to take charge, but it appeared she’d have to; the others were rattled.

“Okay…” Delia breathed. “We have to figure a few things out. First and foremost… do we keep going?”

The words struck them. Abandon the quest? So suddenly? After all they’d been through?

Delia swallowed, “I know I just joined you last week… You’ve come a long way. But we need to think about this.”

There was plenty to think about. Good or evil, they’d seen what the desert could do to a pony, in Hagano. They knew some horrible sickness waited for them a little further south. They knew the world was full of darkness. And the world was not an easy thing to change, even if one turned it upside down. They knew in their hearts nothing good waited ahead.

Was going forward worth it?

“It’s not my place to choose,” Delia looked to Essenta. “You’re our leader. These girls trust you and so do I. We chose to follow you. It's 100 miles to the jungle, but we'd hit savanna in about 90; the change is quite abrupt, I'm told. We have enough food and water to take us to the jungle with plenty to spare. We’d be able to find enough and more to sustain us. We have just enough supplies to get us back to the oasis, maybe by half of a day. We could find food there; it wouldn’t be exciting, but we wouldn’t starve, and we know where to find water on the way back. This doesn’t include what the stallion might yet eat, but that’s another matter.”

Essenta looked down at her hooves; she wasn’t sure what to say.

Delia patted her hoof, “If you need to think, do so.”

“Everypony,” Essenta sat bolt upright.

Everypony looked up; they were ready to hear what the princess had to say.

“Everypony…” Essenta gathered her courage. “Let’s go back.”

The words hit them like a sack of wet shit, but they took the blow.

It was over. After 3,000 miles it was over. Salvatrix was a bust... and they'd never reach the old temple. No Dragon Lance.

For a moment, the only noise to hear was the increasing wind whipping around the rock formation.

Essenta groaned, a sad smirk on her face, “I know I talked big… that I sounded so sure of things… and that I felt I knew what I was doing… but it’s all shit, girls. I’m in over my head and I dragged you along for it. I’m just some dumb princess that hates her father and… wishes she was born somepony else. I’m sorry…”

Another moment of silence ensued; it was broken by Ama.

The Mazan put a hoof on Essenta’s shoulder, “And we believe in you nonetheless. Where you go… I will gladly follow, Princess.”

The significance of Ama’s chosen moniker for Essenta was lost on nopony.

Essenta’s eyes swam and she choked up; clutching Ama’s hoof, she rested her cheek upon it.

Ama smiled warmly, “Yes, Essenta… a good leader leads. We know your decision comes from a good and just place.”

“And I’ll follow you too,” Delia put a hoof on Essenta’s other shoulder.

“And I will, always,” Dechaa, shedding a few tears of her own, put a hoof on her oldest and best friend’s back.

“So will I, Cap,” Zyra joined.

Loress sniffled, “I guess we’ll have to find some other trophy to bring your father… But I’m sure we’ll manage to find something; we need to go back there for your sister, after all.”

This was very true. Essenta had come up with that goal recently: they’d save Calleha from the life of a royal pawn. Hopefully the little princess was okay with it, but they’d deal with it when the time came.

Wilka and Orni came in as well. All eight of the girls embraced. None needed to say it but the time they spent together meant more than finding some artifact residing in a deathtrap.

Delia let the moment run out; once they’d stopped the “company hug-pile”, she addressed their other concerns, “That leaves us with two other questions: I still think we need to know just what’s been going on down in the jungle, so we need to ask Hagano; then… after we know what we need to… we need to decide what to do with him.”

Quiet again reigned for a time; the wind had definitely gone out of their “comradery sails”.

Delia knew the answer but said it anyway, “I don’t want to kill him… and I don’t think anypony else does, either, am I right?”

The girls all nodded somberly. A few of them knew the great weight of life… and taking it. They’d all seen enough blood and misery over the last few months, anyway.

Delia felt relieved nonetheless, “Good. We can decide what to do with him later; for now, we ask him what’s been going on down there.”

Sure, there were a lot of assholes in the city from which they’d come, but the whole continent would benefit from knowing what was going on down south.

“Okay,” Delia stood up. “Let’s try to get some sense from the stallion.”

They had to talk to Hagano but it could wait a few hours. After lunch they decided to wake him up.

Zyra didn’t really mean to zap him as she did, but they weren’t wasting water to wake him and she was unhappy about having to sit through his despicable account earlier in the day.

Zap!

Hagano jolted, just about flipping over; his wings’ feathers stuck out in all directions, “F-u-u-u-u-u-u-u-u-uck!”

Zyra let up, watching him squirm.

“Where am I?!” Hagano cried.

Delia joked, “Shoulda zapped him before, I guess.”

The stallion tried to bolt but the fact he was weak and that Ama stopped him rendered his efforts fruitless. Ama roughly pressed him against a wall while Zyra restrained him with her magic.

“Hey, what’s all this?!” Hagano asked blearily.

Essenta decided to deal with him; she was leader and she felt better, at least about being leader, “Settle down, Hagano; you’re safe. We were traveling in the desert yesterday and came across you.”

“You did?” it seemed strange to him he was even alive.

“You’re fortunate we did; another couple hours out there and you’d have died.”

“Well, glad I’m not dead…” Hagano leaned back as much as he was able. “So… who are you fillies?”

Dechaa felt his eyes scanning the lot of them; it pissed her off something fierce, “Don’t worry about who we are, slaver… Worry about yourself.”

He eyed Zyra and noticed Dechaa’s horn, “Ah… you’re no seer or anything but you must’ve squeezed a few tidbits out of me.”

His smile disgusted them; what was worse was his apparent lack of fear and shame.

Dechaa felt him out a little more… and found his manner was genuine. He wasn’t afraid and looked at them as if they were just pieces of meat.

He grinned at Dechaa; then he referred to Loress and Delia, “Gal, I tell you… you’re not quite up there with those two but I’m a sucker for a pretty unicorn! How about a lie-down with me?”

The girls were in disbelief at Hagano’s manners.

Dechaa could again tell he wasn’t joking around; he wanted to stick it up her guts, “No, you waste of life, I’m not interested in fucking you.”

He didn’t seem turned off by her remarkably high loathing.

“I could really do with a good fuck before you fillies kill me,” he beamed; any of them would be fine, really.

Essenta tired of his assholery, “Nopony’s killing you, Hagano… but keep this up and we may beat you so badly you never walk or fly again. We just have some questions.”

“You didn’t get enough the first time?” he inquired. “If you know what I was up to down there, I must’ve told you plenty.”

“Wanna knock him out first? It’d be easier…” Loress eyed Hagano as if he was a hemorrhoid.

Zyra looked to Dechaa, her eyes giving her friend the choice; she couldn’t activate the spell anyway, only maintain it. The healer shook her head.

“Let him be; I’ll be able to tell if he’s lying to us,” Dechaa looked cold.

Hagano chuckled, “That’ll be just fine, then…”

Essenta knelt as close as she dared, “I don’t want to hear anything else about your party with the Surf Guild—”

“Boy, you chicks really did get a lot out of me! Why, I—”

Essenta roughly hoofed his face, pressing his cheek and forcing his head into an awkward position, “Enough! You’re gonna answer my questions.”

“Fine, fine, fine…” he yawned as Essenta backed off. “Shoot.”

“What happened to your crew?”

“Dunno, really. We got separated. Can’t be good though.”

Essenta recalled the morning, “Earlier, when you weren’t fully conscious, you were yelling about somepony chasing you… that somepony never came back.”

“Yeah, when we got separated… I’m not one to panic, but I sure did panic a little… Things were pretty out of hoof…”

“But you’re fine, now…” Essenta observed.

“Sure, I was going nuts earlier, running out of there, but after the fact… I’m all there, girls.”

Loress wanted clarification on an earlier topic, “Earlier, you said you and your crew made it to the jungle by spring… How is it—?"

Hagano seemed easily distracted; he chuckled nastily, eying Loress, “Wow, you got a pretty mane! You’re as beautiful as a summer day back home! If I had anything other than lint in my pocket, I’d give it all for a taste of your nectar!”

This was repellent! It was hard to know if he was playing a game... or was just stupid. Dechaa had trouble knowing.

In the dimness, something overshadowed Hagano; Ama loomed over him, looking less than pleased.

Hagano did a take; he’d never seen a mare so large, “Damn, you’re a big one! How about you show me your—?"

Pop!

The girls grimaced; Ama had given him a measured slug to the mouth. He spat out a couple teeth, looking dazed.

“You will keep a civil tongue in your head,” she stated. “You will answer our questions… If you choose not to do so, I can keep you awake a long time whilst I lay into you.”

Spitting out a thin stream of blood, he looked from Ama to Loress; he decided to keep the rest of his teeth, “Okay… Ask away!”

Loress sighed, “This spring, the whole continent was shocked to hear the plague sprang up in Salvatrix, worse than usual… It was bad enough to wipe out the capitol and pretty much everything else. You’ve been down there half the year. You’re not sick and you said the plague didn’t kill anypony in your crew. How is it you avoided the plague?”

Hagano blinked, looking flummoxed, “Plague?”

Dechaa chimed in, “Yes, the plague… You know—”

“I know cocksure what the plague is, babe… But if the plague jumped up all of a sudden it’s news to me!”

This gave them all halt. He wasn’t lying. But for him to be down there and not know of the plague was difficult to buy.

Delia asked him, “How is it you never came across it? Did you stay in the jungle the whole time?”

“Oh, no…” Hagano replied. “We went through Old Salvatrix and New Salvatrix… did a little trading in some of the villages… even saw a couple of the jungle folk, the qilin, you know… None too friendly, the qilin…”

Delia blinked; she was having trouble processing this, “We haven’t heard a thing from the south since spring… and you’re telling me there’s no sickness among the ponies?!”

“Nothing as far as actual disease goes, no…” he was calm as can be.

The girls were stunned; what did this mean?

Delia didn’t let up, “What do you mean ‘actual disease’?”

He was moving his tongue around his cut-up mouth, probing a loose tooth, “Well, nopony’s puking out their intestines or anything, but there’s plenty wrong down there. It’s like they’re sick…”

Essenta moved up next to Delia, “Sick with what, Hagano?”

He managed to ease the tooth he’d been poking at from its foundation; he spat and grinned as it ricocheted off the far wall. The mares were disgusted, and it showed. He smiled at them, showing his now-gappy grin.

“Fear…” he offered.

Author's Note

Check out the Appendix for Princess Essenta, updated as the story moves along. It shows the story's timeline and character designs. Contains spoilers.

With the saddening decision to call off the quest behind them, they try to make sense of what their contemptible ward is relating to them.

What does he mean by "fear"?

And remember... they called off the quest but it doesn't mean their adventure is over.

If you enjoy Princess Essenta, please take a look at Larkspur Blossom. A story of a colt finding his worth and making a better life for himself.

Also look for The Virgin Company. A tale of a military pony and his platoon in a war centuries ago.

Like, follow, or leave a comment if you please. It's been fun writing and I'm glad some enjoy it.

Thanks for reading, and take care.

Chapter 40: The Worst Kind of Pony

Desolate Places Arc

“‘Fear’?” Essenta cocked her head.

The other girls looked to one another; it was a strange statement.

Hagano licked at his split lip, “Yeah… Every village we stopped through… was strange. Like they wanted to have nothing to do with us.”

“You’re a pirate, Hagano… What’s strange about them treating you like shit?”

Hagano laughed at the princess, “Money’s money and treasure’s treasure, kid. I’m sure you’ve traded with ponies you’d never like to deal with… But it was different than that. They were scared of something, the lot of them—Hell they were terrified—and it was never clear what about.”

Delia stepped in, “Scared how? How did they behave?”

Hagano had noticed in drooling passing how attractive Delia was but he took a few seconds to get a good look at her; he didn’t smile when he spoke, “You seem to know something, girl.”

“You could say that,” Delia said coolly. “Were these villagers acting like somepony was watching them?”

“Yeah…” Hagano replied. “Show me the underside of your left hoof.”

Show him what? The other mares didn’t understand.

Delia showed little emotion, “Fine.”

She held up her front left hoof. Sitting around, the girls realized Delia had a brand on the bottom; a small, embellished “M” was visible.

Hagano’s eyes widened; he looked at Delia differently, “So… you’re one of Melchior’s… It’s no wonder you seem to know something.”

Delia dropped her hoof, “That’s right.”

He smiled nastily, “You escape? Or did that asshole actually free you? I’m surprised; judging by your special brand, he must’ve enjoyed you. I’ve seen that more than once in the fillies we moved—the really beautiful ones. Were you in his special harem, or did he just let his stallions fuck—?”

Whoomph!

Spittle flew from Hagano’s mouth; Delia had slugged him in the gut with a lot less restraint than Ama had used to bust up his jaw some. The mares had already gathered Delia was nopony to toy with in such a way.

She eyed him, her eyes stony, “You make another crack like that—about me or any of the others here—I’ll break your wings, tie them around your neck, and watch you choke…”

They couldn’t say Hagano was afraid yet—there wasn’t enough “humanity” in him, probably—but he didn’t appear to want to invoke any more wrath.

Hagano coughed, “Fine… Yes, that’s exactly how all the ponies we met acted.”

“After you and your crew had your fun… what ended it?” Delia sat back down.

“It was weird. It happened about a week ago—maybe a few days more; it’s hard to remember,” Hagano’s breathing from being winded had evened out some. “We were gathering supplies to head back up to ‘Last Chance’. After half the year we had plenty to sell up north, so we wanted to go back.

“The village gave us a warmer reception than most of the others. It was strange, mind you, the way most of the villages treated us; it was nothing we’d never seen before, though. We stayed a while and when we told them we were leaving they insisted we stay for the party.”

“A party?” Delia cocked her head, scowling.

Hagano looked annoyed, “Yeah, a party… with good food and rum. They’d just harvested the last of their sugarcane; they said they celebrated it every year.”

A town celebrating a harvest didn’t seem at all strange. But the girls saw this leading somewhere.

“But you thought something was up, didn’t you?” Delia’s expression was hard to read.

“Yeah…” Hagano shifted, hoping to find comfort in Zyra’s magical restraint. “Something seemed fucked up, so while all my crew—the captain, especially—got totally shitfaced, I only pretended to get that way. Something was wrong…”

“Then what happened?” Delia pressed.

For the first time since he’d had his faculties about him, Hagano looked genuinely ill at ease, “The captain disappeared first. We’d come to know the townsponies pretty well, staying there for a couple of weeks, so it didn’t seem strange they were asking us to come to their homes. They said they had homebrewed booze and old family recipes they wanted to share with us.

“I wasn’t alarmed at first… I was just keeping light on the booze; I was drunk, sure, but I had my wits about me. When they asked if I wanted to try some homemade ale, I said I was fine. They kept asking and I kept refusing. I was only scared when I was the only one left. Our cook had disappeared…”

The girls saw the discomfort in Hagano rise. He was a scumbag, sure, but the terror they saw in him when he was half-awake was real enough; even ponies like him weren’t immune to raw fear.

Delia insisted he continue, despite his apparent distress, “Go on.”

“They finally pulled me along; as to not rouse suspicion, I went along. It wasn’t until I saw… the chains that I was really afraid.”

Delia felt her heart constrict, “Chains?”

“They thought I was really drunk… and they tried to chain me up,” Hagano forced out, finally looking shaken.

It was impossible for Delia to not feel the smallest bit of sympathy for Hagano; she’d remember the day those chains were fixed to her 8-year-old legs until the day she died.

Still, sympathy or not, it didn’t stop her from digging into him, “So… the slaver almost became the enslaved…”

The company easily noted the contempt Delia was showing.

Hagano, whether he registered this or not, went on, “When I realized what was going on, I ran. I fought and ran—as hard as I could. I hid in the woods; they couldn’t track worth a fuck, so hiding wasn’t hard. I had to wait until daylight to even tell what direction I was going.”

Delia was again impassive, “And then you escaped to the desert?”

“First I circled back… stole a few canteens of water and a bag of food from the town. I… didn’t see any of my crew. Once I had that, I figured I could make it through the desert; I knew about halfway through there’s this oasis.”

Delia certainly remembered the oasis; it had her thinking about all those fillies, chained up, sitting around the water while the nine stallions probably had a Hell-of-a-time.

Hagano wasn’t aware of the former maid’s mulling, “I was scared… I wasn’t thinking clearly. The humidity got to me, sapping me. By the time I was in the savanna I was weak; I tried flying… and didn’t make it far. I used up the food… the water… and I walked. Next thing I remember… your little mage zapped me!”

Delia had everything she wanted, “Shut up… You’re alive, aren’t you? That’s more than we can say for your crew… and those poor fillies, most likely.”

Delia turned, “I’m done with him…”

Hagano looked around, “How about something to eat? I’m hungry.”

“You’ll get fed,” Essenta moved back in. “But first—”

Loress produced a chain of their own from one of their bags. Ama hoofed her a steel bar.

Hagano didn’t know what scared him more. Not only did the girls chain him to the wall by his neck, but Loress bent the steel bar around his neck as if it were a branch from a willow, creating a collar.

Loress gave him a nasty expression, “You give us enough trouble, we won’t need to chain you up. Understood?”

Hagano—eyes full of genuine dread—nodded.

“Good,” the Terran mare paddled away. “Just wait… You’ll get something to eat.”

With Hagano fed and watered the girls had gathered outside. They discussed just what to do with Hagano. Considering their food supply, they’d only be able to rest another day before they had to head back to the oasis 300 miles away. And they had to feed and water Hagano.

It was a given they didn’t want him traveling with them—how to keep him away was a matter for another time—and they’d have to give him enough food and water to make the oasis. He could fly, after all; if he was in good shape and managed his water, he could reach the oasis in just a couple of days, traveling at night.

They’d give him a head-start and begin their own schlep back soon after, they concluded. They’d also decline to tell him anything about what had transpired in the big city; they had no problem with him going into town ignorant and they weren’t interested in him figuring out who they were, either.

It was after dark and Essenta was sitting with Loress and Delia on the toasty rock they’d come to enjoy; the princess wasn’t pleased with things, “Oh, I wish we’d just been able to move tonight.”

Loress wasn’t happy about things either, “We need to give Hagano more time; he isn’t showing it but he’s still pretty weak. And I don’t want him riding on the wagon until he’s ready to fly.”

Delia hoofed a pebble, “And unless one of us is willing to deal more harshly with him, we need to tolerate him a little longer.”

Essenta was unmoved by Delia’s unpleasant statement but Loress wasn’t; she frowned at the former maid, “That isn’t funny, Delia…”

Delia looked back, “Oh, believe me, I’m very serious. We need to watch him carefully; I don’t trust him, even chained up. You might’ve scared him earlier, Loress, but he’s just gonna go back to his act since he realizes we’re not gonna kill him.”

Loress grimaced, huddling into her blanket she’d wrapped herself in; the rock was warm, but the air was already frigid.

Essenta sighed, “We give him until tomorrow night. We give him a start after dinner and set out a few hours later. Agreeable?”

The other two nodded; they really were Essenta’s righthoof and lefthoof mares.

The girls were thankful Hagano slept through the night. Essenta had told him what they were planning for him. He was still a little rattled from Loress showing him a taste of Terran strength and took their advice to keep quiet and sleep as much as possible. They’d feed him, water him, leave him to his devices, and cut him loose after giving him dinner.

Hagano behaved himself until morning. It could be said Wilka was very uncomfortable around Hagano. Delia chose to stay with her during her watch over him; they always kept eyes on him.

With Essenta and Ama sleeping near the entrance to the cave and Orni—now sleeping, having kept the watchmares company—further in, Dechaa, Zyra, and Loress sat around outside, nattering in the cold.

The girls didn’t really talk about each other behind each other’s backs but… ah, Hell, sure they did.

Up for discussion that dawn—among other sordid topics—was Dechaa’s encounter with the prince of Dagda, the year before, in one of the castle’s powder rooms back in Greendale. Zyra knew a little about it but Loress was hoping to learn more.

Loress shifted in her makeshift seat in the sand, wrapped up in a couple blankets, “I gotta ask, Dechaa… When you gave that prince the hoofjob, did you… use your front hooves or your back hooves?”

Dechaa’s complexion reddened a few dozen shades, despite the chill, “Oh, that… He… didn’t want me using my front hooves; he wanted me to use the back ones…”

"Yeah? Loress giggled.

Dechaa fidgeted, "Before that though... he... had me lie down and he... well, he licked and sucked on my back hooves... a lot."

Zyra was eating this up, fit to bust.

Loress cringed, her face showing horrified amusement, “For real?! And then you jerked him off with your back hooves? That's so weird...!”

Dechaa nodded, looking ill, “Yeah… it was hard.”

“That’s what she said!” Zyra spurted.

Dechaa slugged Zyra’s shoulder, “Eat me, Zyra… and that joke doesn’t work that way, anyway.”

“But it works anywhere!” Zyra protested, rubbing at her shoulder. “That’s what your brother said!”

Dechaa’s face screwed up, somewhere in between amusement and anger; unsure of what to do, she just went after her friend, “That’s it! I’m finally whipping your ass!”

Loress laughed louder than she meant to, watching Dechaa dive at Zyra; the two mares giggled and grappled, rolling around in the sand.

Their merriment was cut short by some very nasty yelling; something was going on deep in the cave.

Dechaa and Zyra halted their mischief; the three mares looked at one another and sprang up, galloping into the cave. Passing by the half-asleep Essenta and Ama, they came to find an ugly sight.

First and foremost, Orni had hold of Delia. It was clear that while Orni was strong, she was at least rivaled in that area by Delia; Essenta may have spent some time laboring in the Dale as little more than a diversion but labor had been Delia’s life. The former maid easily dragged Orni as she tried to reach Hagano.

Hagano’s face was bloody; his nose might’ve been broken. And he looked frightened.

Lastly, Wilka was curled up in a corner, sobbing; looking closely, they saw she’d wet herself.

Delia was bellowing, “You’re dead! Lemme go! I’m tearing this fucker’s lungs out!”

Zyra reacted first. Encapsulating Delia in a bubble, she lifted the mare from Orni’s hold and pressed her into the wall.

Loress was aghast, “What are you doing?!”

Dechaa wasn’t sure what to do, eyes darting from Hagano to Delia to Wilka.

Essenta scrambled into the cavern, looking panicked; Ama was close behind.

“What’s going on?!” the princess cried.

Nopony answered at once but the situation wasn’t hard to ascertain.

Essenta, glaring around, barked out orders, “Dechaa, help Hagano! Ama, Loress, stay here and help Wilka; keep an eye on Hagano, too! Zyra, get Delia outside! Orni… with me! Now!”

Even without her princessness Essenta could definitely command attention; they obeyed without hesitation.

Essenta led Orni out to the dawning desert, Zyra close behind, levitating Delia.

The princess turned, “Orni, guard the entrance to the cave! Zyra… let Delia down…”

The two mares commanded did as obeyed; they dreaded the next, seeing something coming.

Delia was still struggling, cussing and spitting, but immediately came out of it when Zyra dropped her a couple feet to the sand. As if coming out of a daze, she looked around… and saw the princess glowering.

It seemed a sure thing Essenta was going to lay into Delia and try to kick her little horsey ass up and down the dunes. Orni knew Essenta could fight, personally.

But the princess kept her cool, even if her voice dripped venom, “Would you mind telling me, Delia, just what that was?”

Delia just glared.

Orni put in; she seemed very agitated, “Hagano… he… was pushing Wilka. He… was pushing her buttons.”

Essenta cocked her eyes towards Orni, “‘Buttons’?”

Delia looked disgusted, but not up for a scrap, “That’s all you’re going to say about that?!”

“About what?” Essenta looked to Delia.

Delia was pretty wound up, “About—”

“NO!” Orni cried loudly, stunning them both; she shook and inhaled, giving a ragged sigh. “No, Delia…”

Essenta was now very confused… and worried; just what was going on?!

Delia glared at Orni, “This isn’t right, Orni…”

But Orni insisted, “Hagano got into Wilka’s head, Essenta… That’s… that’s what happened.”

“What do you mean?” Essenta’s powerful gaze fell on the little Knollwing.

Orni looked very young and very upset, “I… I can’t tell you.”

“What did he do to Wilka, Delia?” Essenta felt frantic, looking to the other Earth pony.

Delia’s eyes were so angry they were watering, “‘Did’? Nothing… It’s what he said.”

Essenta’s eyes narrowed, “And you’re not gonna tell me?”

Delia looked as if she wanted to, very much, but was defiant, “I won’t.”

“What the fuck’s going on, Orni?” Essenta jumped ship fast, glowering at the little mare.

Orni, shaking, broke out in a sob, “I can’t say…”

The tears caught Essenta off-guard, invoking compassion; realizing she’d been screaming at her friend, she relented, “Okay… stop crying…”

Delia sat in the sand, very unhappy with things, watching Essenta hug Orni, soothing the little mare, who reciprocated the embrace.

The former maid said to nopony in particular, “This is a big, fucking mistake…”

“No, Delia,” Essenta asserted. “I don’t want you near him again.”

“Let me see him, Essenta,” Delia’s gaze was lowered in a dangerous way.

The other mares looked to one another nervously. It was mid-morning and Wilka was asleep, having been given a “calming” session by Dechaa, who was staying by her side.

“No, Delia!” Essenta repeated.

Delia came in close, whispering, “You don’t understand… You don’t understand what’s going on… If you did… you’d probably kill him now…”

The words rattled Essenta, “What…?!”

Delia was adamant, “Let me talk to him; I won’t lay a hoof on him. I promise you that.”

Glancing back to the others, Essenta knew they hadn’t heard; she turned to Delia, “Don’t betray my trust, Delia.”

The mare had no intention, “I won’t.”

Delia moved past Essenta and the rest. They followed her into the cave. Passing by Wilka, with Dechaa fretting over her, Delia felt her heart seize up again. It only served to harden her resolve.

Entering the cavern in which they kept Hagano, Delia barked, “Hagano!”

He looked up; his face was still a mess but Dechaa had repaired his nose. All of his coolness and guile was gone from his manner… He was afraid, alright.

Delia came up close enough she could smell his sweat; his nervousness smelled like weak pickle juice, “Hagano… the only reason you’re alive right now is my friend over there got hold of me before I crushed your windpipe. What you said to my other friend… it’s unforgivable…”

Essenta and those out of the loop again wondered just what had occurred, but they were content to listen to Delia set things straight.

Delia’s voice showed no irresolution, “You’re going to sit here, quietly until we cut you loose tonight. If you so much as look at the little pink Pegasus… there’s nothing on Earth that’ll stop me from tearing your heart out…”

The air Delia gave off was beyond unsettling.

Delia had a little more to say, “That’s what’s going to happen, Hagano. And I’d die to see it through. Remember that.”

With that, Delia left the cavern.

Essenta looked to the girls… and to Hagano, who’d soiled himself.

She sighed, “Zyra… please clean Hagano up… I don’t want him stinking up the cave. Ama… I want you to watch him first. Loress, if you could get lunch started, that’d be great. Everypony else… get some rest.”

Essenta left the girls to do whatever they’d do and went after Delia. She found her sitting on the rock they’d so come to enjoy.

The princess wasn’t sure what to do. There were still a lot of things she didn’t know about Delia

But she knew one thing: Delia was different.

She could tell.

Zyra had tortured a stallion to death… Ama and Loress had killed ponies too… The rest had certainly fought through their shared troubles. But it wasn’t “for them”, Essenta had realized; it had come close to breaking them, every time they were pushed into such things.

Perhaps Delia wasn’t a killer—Essenta didn’t know and didn’t want to ask—but she was different.

“Essenta…” Delia’s voice jostled the princess from her thoughts. “Come sit.”

She did so.

Delia looked to the sun, already baking the landscape; it was hot.

“Gonna be hotter than yesterday, Essenta…” Delia considered. “We’d best stay inside today, more than we might like.”

Essenta let things sit a moment before speaking, “Delia… I know you and Orni know something… but you’re not going to say what. I’m worried about Wilka, though… Please… is there anything you will tell me?”

Delia stewed for a minute, “I noticed it almost right away, regarding Wilka… She’s got wounds, Essenta… deep wounds… What Orni said… was right, so leave it at that; Hagano got into her head. He led her, and I didn’t realize what he was up to at first. If Orni hadn’t woken up and held me back… I would’ve killed him.”

Essenta felt the wind whip around them, giving all the more power to Delia’s statement. She listened.

“Hagano’s just about the worst kind of pony there is, Essenta… and I take back what I said about not wanting to kill him; we’d be doing the world a service…”

The hard words stung; Essenta looked to her hooves.

“But that’s not what we want to do, Essenta. It’s not the way. He’ll keep quiet, I’m sure… He may take a dig at us when we finally let him go, but he’ll go. If we’re fortunate we’ll never see him again… or hear of him… but ponies like him are beyond saving.”

Essenta still looked to her hooves, taking in the monologue.

Delia stood up, dusting off her tunic, “About Wilka… try not to think about it. She has Orni, so leave it at that. I’d discourage the others going on about it too. It’s something beyond their reckoning.”

Essenta looked up, feeling pretty young and foolish, “Okay.”

Delia began to paddle back into the cave, “Take your own advice you gave the others… Rest. I’ll wake you for lunch.

After a few minutes Essenta stood up and made her way back in. She passed Loress and Delia, cooking, and went on. Zyra and Orni were already asleep. She knew Dechaa would watch over Wilka… just as the dependable Ama would keep a lid on Hagano.

Feeling drained from the morning, Essenta lay down next to Zyra, content to sleep a while.

“I’ve given you a magical tracker, Hagano…” Zyra stared him down. “It’ll never wear off; remember that. If you come close, I’ll know it. If we ever see you again… we’ll just start blasting and consider it self-defense, you hear?”

He heard alright and he nodded.

It was soon after dinner. The mares had brought out their gear and were packing the wagon… and cutting Hagano loose. They were glad to be seeing the last of him.

Dechaa magicked a stone to him, “I enchanted this rock, Hagano. It’ll lead you to the oasis and then to ‘Last Chance’ City.”

“And here’s what we’re giving you,” Zyra pointed to a sack not unlike the others, among their other gear, with a red ribbon tucked in a fold. “You have a blanket, three days of water, and four days of food with a little extra salt in the bag. Our healer insists on giving you an extra canteen with a couple gallons of water, too.”

Dechaa had gotten into an argument with the other girls—in Hagano’s presence—about making sure he wouldn’t run out of water.

Zyra frowned at him, “Don’t dawdle when you get to the oasis; gather food and water and leave once you rest up. Fly at night and it should only take you a couple days to reach the oasis; you’ll be back in ‘Last Chance’ in four-and-a-half or five days with a decent pace.”

With the unicorns’ dire warnings fresh in his mind, Hagano twitched as Loress undid the steel around his neck.

Essenta pointed to the sack with the ribbon, “Take it and go. We never want to see you again, Hagano…”

He glanced across the mares, approaching the sack they were giving him, and smirked.

As Delia had predicted, he couldn’t resist giving them a final dig; he leered, looking about exaggeratedly, “The little pink-and-blonde didn’t want to say good-bye?”

The girls looked to Delia, ready to jump and restrain her, but the messy-maned pony, tensing up, merely hissed, “Fuck off, Hagano.”

Not letting his guard down, he picked up the sack, under the very watchful eyes of the mares, “Well, that’s all fine and good, because I never want to see any of you again, either.”

They watched as he slung it across himself, allowing his wings freedom.

Dechaa approached with one last item, “And take this.”

She slung an extra-large canteen of water over his shoulder.

“Move quickly and stay hydrated,” as loathsome as he was, Dechaa couldn’t help but want to help him.

Taking another look to the girls, Hagano snorted.

“Well, see you never!” he turned to the girls, grinning with his gaps.

“Just get out of here!” Loress scowled.

Shaking his head, simpering, he ran and took off flying, a little unsteady.

Having watched him go, Essenta turned to the rest, “Okay… let’s get packed. Orni… please check on Wilka.”

So, the girls packed the wagon and contented themselves to relax for a time. They had a lot of ground to cover that night.

The moon was already high in the sky when the mares were setting off. Almost four hours had passed since Hagano had left them.

Essenta’s breath was visible as she turned to her friends, all bundled up, “Everypony ready?”

They collectively nodded.

Looking to Wilka in particular Essenta gently asked, “Are you alright, Wilka? Would you like to ride in the wagon a while?”

Wilka shook her head, “Thanks, but no… I think I’m fine.”

Essenta was glad Wilka seemed better, “Very well.”

“Princess…” Loress spoke up. “I wouldn’t mind a snack as we start. When I was packing the bag for Hagano, I noticed the last bag of pears had gone soft. By tomorrow they’ll be mush, with the cold.”

Essenta could do with a pear; there were enough each of them could have one, she remembered, “That sounds nice.”

Ama harnessed up, “I’ll pull tonight.”

“Sure,” Essenta moved to the food-bag near the front of the wagon. “Zyra, could you lend me your horn?”

Smiling, Zyra walked up, lighting up her horn, “Sure thing, Cap.”

While the rest stood by, Essenta opened the food-bag; she hadn’t realized she was just a little bit hungry.

Looking inside, Essenta’s jaw dropped; she sputtered a few seconds, “What the fuck?!”

Zyra jumped back, startled, “What is it?”

Essenta pulled off the bag and upended it. To the horror of the girls, a single blanket, a three-gallon jug of water, and a meager amount of food fell out onto the sand.

Hagano had taken their food-bag.

Essenta was stunned to stuttering, “W-w-w-w-what happened?!”

She shook the bag, as if it still had something in it; of course, it didn’t.

Zyra stared at the empty bag, “He switched the bags!”

The girls felt an unpleasant jolt up their spines; this was… nightmarish.

“How?” cried Loress. “How’d he do it?”

“Did he move the ribbon to the food-bag?” Essenta demanded.

“No!” Ama shook her head. “We saw him take the bag with the ribbon; there was no moving the ribbon!”

“Did anypony move the ribbon?!” Essenta almost shouted.

They shook their heads; none of them would do such a thing.

Loress’s face dawned horrified realization, “He moved the ribbon after I assembled his bag…”

“What?” Essenta turned.

Loress’s eyes were welling up, “We packed his bag right in front of him, Essenta! He knew which one was which!”

“HE WAS CHAINED TO THE WALL, LORESS!” Essenta shrieked. “How would he do such a thing?!”

Loress choked up, “His wings… he could’ve pulled it out and tucked it away on the other bag… He’d have been able to reach it when we weren’t looking.”

Essenta’s eyes reflected the same dread as Loress’s, “And with the jug of water in his bag… there wasn’t much difference in weight from the food-bag.”

The princess meandered a very short distance before falling to her rump.

She turned to the girls, eyes streaming, “And he already knew he’d be getting a couple extra gallons of water with the other canteen…”

The night wind howled, and the little company felt the full effect of its chill.

Hagano had condemned them to the desert.

Author's Note

Check out the Appendix for Princess Essenta, updated as the story moves along. It shows the story's timeline and character designs. Contains spoilers.

With their food supply gone, what will become of the girls?

If you enjoy Princess Essenta, please take a look at Larkspur Blossom. A story of a colt finding his worth and making a better life for himself.

Also look for The Virgin Company. A tale of a military pony and his platoon in a war centuries ago.

Like, follow, or leave a comment if you please. It's been fun writing and I'm glad some enjoy it.

Thanks for reading, and take care.

Chapter 41: The Southern Wilderness

Desolate Places Arc

The shocked mares looked off to the northwest where Hagano the pirate had flown away four hours earlier with five days’ worth of food… for all of them. He’d stolen their food-bag.

“Is there any way to catch him?!” Dechaa’s voice was ragged.

Zyra was sure this was impossible, “He could’ve gone 60 miles by now, even if he was feeling tired!”

“Does the tracker work?! Can you find him…? Stop him…?” Orni fretted.

Zyra stamped about angrily, “It doesn’t work that way! He’s too far to track; I set that up in case he came near us again. And what, did you think I could light up my horn and blow him up?! I could kill him—turn him to fuckin’ ash—in an instant, sure, but it’s kind of hard when he’s four hours away. And flying no less!”

“And there’s no way even Wilka could catch up to him in a day. Even if she could… send her after him?! Alone?!” Loress didn’t want to give in to panic, but she was close.

Zyra paced about, possibly the angriest of them all, “He fucked us, girls… He fucked us all and whose fault is it?!”

Loress shrank at that; she had been the one to prepare his food… and leave it close enough he could reach their supplies with a wing.

Ama put up with none of it, “Zyra, it is nopony’s fault but his! He tricked us, and he did so well… We have not dealt with his sort…”

The mares began to chatter, their panic rising.

All the mares were feeling pretty defeated… other than Essenta and Delia. They were fuming mad, sure, and wishing they’d blown Hagano’s brains against the wall to which they’d tied him, but they were thinking.

Essenta murmured to Delia, “Could you please get them to shut up? I’m thinking here…”

Delia stood, facing the group, and barked, “Everypony… shut the fuck up!”

They shut the fuck up, alright, faces masks of tragedy. For a brief moment, they stood mute, noticing Essenta’s demeanor.

The princess stood up; she turned to her friends, “Everypony… calm down… Ama’s right: this is nopony’s fault but Hagano’s. I don’t think there’s anything else we could’ve done…”

The group hung their heads. They’d already batted around the idea—very briefly—that if they’d been kinder to him he may never have done what he did, but it didn’t hold water. They all knew it; Hagano was simply an evil fellow and he’d screwed them royally—possibly in the frame of a few seconds—when they had their backs turned.

Essenta breathed deeply and exhaled, “We can’t catch him; it’s impossible. By morning light, he’ll be halfway to the oasis.”

Things were lousy, definitely, but the mares felt a modicum of comfort with Essenta keeping a cool head.

“Loress… how much food do we have left? How much water?” Essenta sat down.

The Terran knew the answer; she’d been bewailing their loss for some time, “We have what we meant to give Hagano for food. He was meant to take four days of food for one pony. He only took three gallons of water instead of six… and that leaves us with just over 50 gallons; water isn’t our issue. Food’s the issue… 16 meals’ worth, give or take, is what we have… It’s all we have.”

The numbers had the mares’ stomachs clenching, in addition to their hearts and throats. They were 300 miles from the oasis and 100 miles from the jungle.

The mares didn’t have to hear it; they had little choice—other than starve in the desert—but to continue south to find food.

The things they’d heard from Hagano were frightening. There was no plague at a “dangerous” level, but something was very, very wrong in the land of Salvatrix. They’d managed to sluff away their concerns, regarding these things, when they knew they were heading back towards “Last Chance”.

That relief died, then and there, in the middle of the night in the autumn in the Great Southern Desert.

Essenta looked to the wagon, “Girls… check our supplies. Make sure we’re not leaving anything behind.”

Those closest did so.

Essenta turned her gaze south, “Delia… take point. We’re going south.”

The girls felt a great, sick feeling rise up in their throats; they managed to swallow it back down. Their journey would continue for another reason: just staying alive a little longer.

So, not knowing what would happen or where they’d wind up, they headed south.

It was a great relief to reach the savanna. Their food had just about run out, other than a few biscuits and some dried mango. Falling upon the first patch of decent grass they’d seen since the oasis, they ate all they could find.

A day-and-a-half of hard journeying had taken them the roughly 90 miles they’d known had separated them from certain death and bleak hope. There’d been no merriment, no songs or jokes, and barely any talking.

But there wasn’t much to eat in the savanna, other than grass, and it was sparse. They needed to reach the jungle and find fruit.

A couple miles of walking on the grassland was strange; they’d been used to a couple weeks of shifting sand, so solid ground was unfamiliar.

“My joints hurt…” was a complaint each of them uttered.

Dechaa knew medicine but Delia probably understood the body better; the former maid encouraged them on, “Everypony just watch your step. We had a lot more cushion on the sand but a lot less support; we’re all stretched out so it’s funny walking on something less yielding. It’d be easy to turn a knee, or something so be very careful.”

It was a mere 10 miles from the desert to the edge of the rainforest, rising abruptly from the savanna, so it wasn’t terrible.

The girls reached the jungle’s border mid-afternoon.

Most of the girls had never seen monkeys before and none of them saw any but they surely heard them chattering. The jungle was teaming with life and the brash birdsong alone was murder on the ears.

The noise from higher lifeforms they could tolerate but one noise was quite intolerable.

Bzzzzzzzz…

Bzzzzzzzzzzzz…

Bzzzzzzzbzzzzzzz…

“Oh, these fuckin’ mosquitoes!” Essenta griped, swatting at a bunch with her tail.

The rest were having similar difficulties; the air on the border between the savanna and the rainforest was rife with biting insects. In the forest itself… it was certainly worse.

Dechaa called to Delia, “A moment, Delia?”

Delia saw Dechaa was eyeing the forest; she broke out in a grin, “Oh, yeah…”

Wondering why their two “medical experts” weren’t so down, the girls saw them poking around the forest’s floor, just a couple dozen yards away.

The two came back quickly; Dechaa dumped a load of grass while Delia pulled a tiny cauldron from Dechaa’s bag.

Essenta was annoyed, “It ain’t dinnertime, yet…”

They ignored her, continuing their work.

“Girls,” Dechaa said proudly. “This will answer at least one of our problems down here.”

Delia looked around their gear, “Somepony find me a long rag we won’t miss…”

They dug and Orni produced a long, cut-up piece of blanket; they’d had a couple makeshift bandages lying around.

“Gather round, girls,” Delia held up a load of the grass. “This is citronella grass.”

“The stuff they use to make those nice-smelling candles?” Loress asked.

“The same,” Dechaa magicked the cauldron to the ground. “But it has other uses.”

Before the assembly, Dechaa magically macerated the grass mid-air; it soon liquified.

“Separate the ‘wheat’ from the ‘chaff’ and… there,” Dechaa directed the grass sap into the cauldron.

Delia began to swish her tail over the cauldron, “Give it a moment… Okay. What do you girls notice… other than the lovely smell?”

Notice? Notice nothing; they’d been enthralled by the show… so enthralled that—

“Hey…” Wilka looked around. “No mosquitoes.”

The rest noticed too; they fell about the place in relief.

“Yes, girls,” Dechaa began to soak the rag—now cut into eight pieces—in the cauldron. “Citronella can deter mosquitoes as is… but the extract will keep them well off us.”

The mares each received a new accessory for the neck.

Delia put in casually, “And it keeps away other insects too… like fleas.”

A couple of them didn’t understand.

Orni cocked her head, “Fleas?”

Loress smiled, not teasing Orni for her ignorance on the matter, “Fleas carry the plague, Orni.”

Orni’s face lit up, “Oh… that will be helpful.”

“Indeed,” Dechaa cleaned her cauldron. “The grass is everywhere, so we can make as much as is needed.”

Zyra wondered, “With a miracle like this, how is it the plague’s such a problem?”

Delia answered for Dechaa, “Well, most aren’t as skilled as Dechaa… and it can spring up so quickly. Even if a couple ponies have the plague if a bunch of hungry fleas find their way into a village one night… Whammo! Half the town has the plague by morning.”

Dechaa finished with her “chemistry set”, as Essenta liked to call it, “Some ponies are more proactive and use such repellents; it’s how there’s never been a catastrophic outbreak in the last 100 years.”

“Plus, all we heard about the plague was… well, calling them ‘lies’ is yet to be known as accurate, but we didn’t know the truth. The plague’s likely at a low strength now, if there are indeed a bunch of ponies around, scared of who-knows-what…”

Essenta tied her rag strip in a loose knot around her throat, “Enough talk! Everypony get a good drink of water. We need to forage. We can decide later if we want to venture in and do some trading (probably a stupid idea) but for now we find dinner.

“Dechaa, Delia, each of you will lead a foraging group; you know best what’s safe and what’s not. We don’t want to get the trots, or worse. I’ll go with Dechaa and bring Wilka. Delia, you take Loress and Zyra. Each group needs a unicorn, after all. Ama, Orni, you stay out here and guard the supplies.”

Everypony nodded.

Essenta looked to the foragers, “Be mindful. There are some animals here we’ve never seen, and Heaven knows what else; they can’t be any worse than those stupid wolves made of wood, but there are snakes and tigers and shit. If you happen to find a farm… stay away; note its location and we can talk later. Everypony grab an empty sack and stay close with your groups.”

And it was so.

In their little makeshift campsite, a good stretch from the forest’s edge, the girls went through the fruits of their labor. Delia, their de facto botanist, was checking everything for safety; there were many poisonous plants in the jungle.

“Okay…” Delia upended one of the bag’s Dechaa’s group had gathered. “Bananas… soursop… ooh, sugarcane… and persimmons. Good!”

Dechaa showed the other two bags, “Just more of the same… I have no idea what half the plants down here are. But I know these are safe and Wilka was good to have.”

Delia smiled, “Wings or a horn, I’d settle for either. Loress, Zyra, let’s go.”

Out of the bags came a much larger assortment of edibles; Delia grinned, “I think we’ll be alright girls. Does anypony know what this is?”

The former maid held up some tuberous root; Dechaa’s eyes widened, “A yam?!”

Delia chuckled, “Oh, yes… There are quite a few of them out there; I’ll show you how to identify them later. Other than eating them fresh, you know what else we can do?”

Nopony knew, other than the two that had gone with Delia; the little half-assed botanist patted the pile of yams happily, “We can dry these out when we cut them up… and if we grind them up we can make flour.”

Loress was happy as can be, “Yes, actual flour! Delia says it doesn’t work quite as well but we can make enough flatbreads and biscuits to get us back north. We’ll need to dig up a lot and do a lot of baking, but we have the ability to make breads.”

The girls were about as glad as they could be, considering they’d been damned to die in the southern continent by some stallion who was at best amoral and at worst pure evil.

“Not only yams, we have these around,” Delia hoofed around more of the foodstuffs. “Cassava… and taro can both be made into flour as well. We found a creek a couple hundred yards in. We’ll want to boil and otherwise sterilize the water, but we have a water source too; there’s stuff living in the water around here would give you nightmares.”

Loress presented another specimen, “I spotted these.”

Orni’s eyes lit up, “Cashews?! You found cashews?! Those are mine and Wilka’s favorite!”

There was much ascent; cashews kicked ass, according to the general consensus.

Zyra was tickled pink, almost forgetting how angry she was about their situation, “Yes, cashews… We’ll be eating like kings tonight.”

Essenta smiled to her girls, “Okay. Let’s gather some wood for a fire. I know lighting a fire isn’t ideal, not knowing what’s out there, but we keep it low or nonexistent at night.”

They’d discussed the matter, knowing a lot of things were better cooked or processed; they’d need fire to cook. Some stuff could be eaten raw—mainly fruit—but they’d get the trots from too much fruit.

“Loress, Delia… I think a proper feast is in order,” Essenta beamed.

Nopony argued the thought and they set out for wood.

“Just a nip, girls…” Delia advised. “You haven’t had alcohol in a while and we don’t need any of you getting drunk or sick.”

Essenta—with a little envy and from a distance—watched the others sample the whiskey they’d managed to not touch the whole while they’d been in the desert; Pallo had been good enough to send a few bottles of some very decent stuff along.

“Don’t fret, Essenta,” Delia sat next to Essenta, munching on a baked yam. “They need to enjoy themselves a little.”

Essenta had liked her dinner very much. She’d sampled and enjoyed all the fruit they’d found, had a few baked yams, and they’d made a porridge of cassava with cashews. They’d begun to dry out the starchy foods to make flour and all was looking good enough.

She just missed having whiskey.

Delia had to ask, “How long have you been off the bottle, Essenta?”

Essenta hated admitting she had a problem, but booze was a problem for her; she hated the thought of having any dependency on it. Delia’s choice of words—not inaccurate at all—stung.

“I haven’t had a drink since… I met a knight…” Essenta shook her head, “Wow, that’s just about seven weeks…”

“A knight?” Delia asked.

“Yes, a knight…” Essenta said. “I’m afraid I… don’t remember it.”

“You don’t remember meeting a knight?” Delia smirked.

“I was drunk, Delia,” Essenta admitted. “I was really drunk. Dechaa and I had a fight and… we said some things… True things, both of us, but it hurt. He found me in some pub and watched out for me; once I’d passed out, he brought me back to the girls, safe and sound.”

“Wow…” Delia was impressed with such chivalry.

“Yeah… and he was from Albin of all places!” Essenta turned to Delia, looking incredulous. “A decade ago he’d have probably held me for ransom!”

The former maid giggled at the thought and Essenta joined her. But Delia had more to ask.

“You and Dechaa… what were you two fighting about?” Delia figured she shouldn’t ask but couldn’t resist.

“Something I’d done the night before,” the princess watched the girls pass around the bottle. “I’d been clean a whole month, after falling apart for a week—ask me another time about that—and I started a fight in some ass-fuck, nowhere town-pub. We had to run… 50 miles that night.”

Delia cringed, “Sounds like you had it coming.”

Essenta snorked, “Yeah, a little… With the running… that was the worst hangover I’ve ever had, though not the longest. You’ve heard about Prince Fulco from the girls? That one lasted a couple days, after the night we had.”

“He does sound like a sweetheart, Essenta,” Delia chuckled.

“Sometimes I wish I’d just behaved myself, Delia…” Essenta looked sad. “It’s not often somepony like him comes in, and his parents and your parents want you both to make little colts and fillies.”

“You behave yourself?” Delia joked. “He must’ve been special.”

“Oh, don’t you start,” Essenta buffeted Delia’s shoulder.

Delia switched gears, “So what do you think?”

“About what?” Essenta munched on a peeled soursop, spitting out its toxic seeds.

“Getting back.”

“Oh, that,” Essenta looked up to the dimming sky; night was coming. “I think we’ll be fine, Delia. I mean, we have to hoof it 700 miles going back the same fucking way we came, some pirate stole our food, and I chickened out… but we’ll be able to make it once we bake enough bread and dry enough fruit.”

“You didn’t chicken out, Essenta…” Delia reassured her. “It was a suicide mission to begin with, plague or no. And smart mares don’t get themselves killed for no good reason.”

“Going to the Dale and giving my asshole father a reason not to kill all of you and lock me up seems like a pretty good reason to me,” Essenta joked bitterly.

Delia simpered, “From what I hear, he’d best be the one to worry about getting killed. You’ve managed to pick up quite a crew of your own.”

Essenta spat a seed as far as she could, watching it bounce off a rock, “Don’t use the word ‘crew’… Just hearing the word has me wishing we’d fed that motherfucker to the buzzards…”

Delia laughed, “That kind of thinking isn’t overly healthy, but… yeah… If I ever see him again I’m making a rug out of his hide.”

Essenta shuddered. Making a rug out of the skin of your enemy? Well, she’d heard of ponies drinking wine out of the skulls of their enemies.

Delia’s laugh turned into a yawn, “I tell you, I’m exhausted; I’m turning in.”

“Sure, Delia,” Essenta watched her stand. “You’re on fifth watch tonight… dawn patrol…”

“And I’ll make sure you all have a nice breakfast when you wake up.”

Essenta watched Delia paddle to the wagon; she’d set up a nest underneath.

She turned back towards the fire where her little company was reveling; she giggled. It was hard to believe just two nights before they’d nearly fallen to despair.

Perhaps she’d doze a while; she’d drawn first watch. Listening to the happy chatter of her friends she did just that.

A few days near the edge of the jungle had the company’s supplies swelling. They’d made enough flour to start baking hard biscuits and their fruit was drying nicely. As humid as it was, shockingly different than it was only 10 or 15 miles away, they’d surely been drinking a lot of water; water was a lesser worry, with the nearby creek. Staying awake next to the jungle took more water and energy than traveling at night in the desert.

Things were looking up and once they’d made enough food to last them three weeks—for safe measure—they’d make the journey back to “Last Chance” City. They’d sure have a tale to tell Clovis and Pallo.

What they did after making it back to the city was up in the air. At the current time it wasn’t even on most of their minds; they just wanted to get back to the relative safety of the big city. Melchior was dead, nopony that knew who they were or wished them harm was there (hopefully), and they had quite a bit of money.

Hell, they might even stay there a while and enjoy not trekking through the desert or desperately trying to find the food they needed just to make the journey.

Their spirits were so good, in fact, they chose to do something they hadn’t in several weeks.

“Okay, girls,” Ama was giddy. “Let us all draw lots to determine who faces whom!”

While their lunch cooked over the fire, they did so. The results were as follows:

Ama vs. Orni

Loress vs. Zyra

Wilka vs. Dechaa

Essenta vs. Delia

“We are having a spar, girls!” Ama was close to squealing; she’d found Orni was her favorite mare to spar with, ever since their enjoyable first fight in Renata, “Yes! I have another chance!”

Orni was a better fighter and everypony knew it but even she was afraid of Ama’s gung-ho manner; the Mazan could really brawl, “Great…”

Delia grinned, “A Mazan vs. a Knollwing; this should be fun!”

Ama jostled the little Knollwing, “Oh, my! You would love to have borne witness to her defeating me! I relish the memory.”

Orni was squished by Ama’s rough embrace, “Please let go…”

Loress and Zyra rarely sparred, Loress being a juggernaut and Zyra being a fire-mage, but they’d take a whack at it; the two giggled nervously, not entirely pleased about having to clash. They had yet to decide if magic was allowed.

Dechaa was unexpectedly excited to have another try at Wilka. She was no more agile or skilled with the twin swords, but her teleportation had improved greatly, to where she could move to any location she could physically see. Even if magic wasn’t allowed, they could still have a good scrap.

Delia had been curious about the crazy princess six other mares had seen fit to call their leader and Essenta was just as curious about some former maid that had moonlighted as a spy.

The two faced one another; Essenta was smirking, “I’ve wanted to do this ever since Clovis ‘convinced’ you to help us with that foolish mission.”

Delia felt similarly, “I hear you fought Wilka and Orni to a draw, even with their skills; can’t say I haven’t been looking forward to this, myself.”

Essenta beamed, “If you’re interested, I have something special we could try. We—”

Dechaa bonked her best friend’s head, “No cesti, Sen. If you two want to beat the fuck out of each other, wait for a more civilized setting; we can’t afford getting hurt down here.”

Essenta laughed, “What do you think sparring is?!”

Dechaa wasn’t amused, “You know what I mean.”

Ama didn’t like when sparring got bogged down, “Come now, let us begin!”

“Alright, girls,” Zyra would be presiding over the first fight. “You’ve agreed on a single staff. No tricks, Ama!”

Ama opened her tunic; the girls recalled her hiding a rope and using it as she would a ball-and-chain, “Only the single staff, yes.”

Delia wasn’t sure what this meant; she asked Essenta, “‘Tricks’?”

Essenta said back, “You see the ball-and-chain in Ama’s trunk?"

"No... I've seen that slab of steel of hers, though... I bet that could've killed Loress's dragon..."

Essenta went on, "Right... Well, she fastens the ball-and-chain to her back leg; she’s quite accurate with it. When we first fought Orni, Ama concealed a heavy rope and used it as such. It was incredible.”

“Oh, that…” Delia’s eyes showed clarity. “One of you mentioned it.”

Essenta couldn’t help but smile at Ama’s happiness, “Ama lost to Wilka and then Orni a week later but I don’t think she could be less satisfied with either of those matches. Ama really loves to spar.”

“I can tell,” Delia didn’t envy Orni having to fight the powerful mare. “Have you fought Ama?”

Essenta shuffled, “Not seriously, no…”

Delia was interested, “Think you’d match her?”

Essenta stood a moment; she shrugged, “I don’t know.”

Delia took the answer. She knew Essenta had fought both Wilka and Orni to draws, but the girls had each time wanted the fight to go on as long as either could stand; that’s surely what it sounded like. Something told the messy-maned mare Ama wasn’t the type of girl for that kind of play; Delia was sure Ama wouldn’t hold back, win or lose.

Delia almost missed the beginning of the fight, wound up in her own thoughts.

“Fight!” Zyra cried, safely off to the side… a good place for anypony to be.

Delia knew Orni was fast; it was still difficult to believe. And Ama was fast, remarkably so given her size and appearance, but took longer to get there.

Delia saw it… studied it… the two clashes it turned out to be. Ama had barely managed to counter the first blow when Orni turned around and sunk the butt of the staff into Ama’s gut.

“Whooof!” Ama cried, shuddering, almost concealing the tiny Orni with her bulk.

Orni jumped back, the staff in the crook of her front leg.

Delia winced; Ama wasn’t looking too good.

But Ama grinned a little grin, which looked painful, beaming at Orni, “You got my wind, Orni…”

The Mazan passed out, falling over backwards.

Orni looked a little sad, as if she was reluctant to take part in such things; Ama’s speed and skill with the staff were no match for Orni’s.

Delia gathered, by the girls’ mixture of cheering and amusement/horror at Ama’s defeat, that this was normal enough. The little company could be a real rough-and-tumble bunch.

Loress motioned Essenta over and they helped the Mazan to her hooves.

Immediately Ama began to cough, regaining consciousness; she smiled at the mortified Orni, “Well, friend, that brings us to seven matches—all in your favor—and the third time you got my wind. Well done!”

Orni weakly nodded, never understanding Ama’s love of being clobbered.

Ama sat down, still coughing back her wind, “That was splendid! I will be fine for lunch at least! I wish to preside over the next!”

Wilka hoofed Ama’s shoulder, “You up for it?”

Ama put on a child-like smile, “For my strongest rival and our formidable mage? It is a pleasure to preside.”

The mage and the Terran had agreed on no weapons or magic; they’d wrestle. With grappling, Zyra’s chance without magic went from that of a snowball in Hell to a snowball in the desert.

Delia already knew how it would end but was most absorbed.

Ama called out, “Begin!”

Delia had heard Zyra, about as physically strong as Dechaa and Wilka, had managed to defeat the skillful Wilka by forcing her into a hold. She’d tried and failed doing the same against Orni.

And she failed again, trying it on Loress.

“Yield! Yield! Yield!” Zyra howled, tapping Loress’s back.

Loress let her up at once and the two shook hooves, Zyra a little sore.

“Well done, Zyra!” Ama winked. “You almost had her.”

Zyra guffawed, kneading her best friend’s shoulder, “Sure I did…”

Delia had been watching, of course. Zyra was good at grappling but when faced with an opponent, whether twice or twenty times her strength, her competence meant less than it might. She looked forward to the next.

Dechaa and Wilka had agreed to not use magic but were to choose any weapon they liked. Dechaa took a wooden dirk (one of Wilka’s trainers), clamped between her teeth, while Wilka took a staff.

Unlike the rest of the girls, Delia had seen neither of them fight but had certainly heard about what they could do when they went in full-strength. Dechaa had beaten Loress, using her own immovability and “inferior” magic (compared to a unicorn’s ability to better manipulate) against her. Wilka could heal herself. She couldn’t do everything but could help herself and others if she fully understood the condition.

And, something else struck Delia about Dechaa. Dechaa, to Delia, seemed a fretful mare. She was nervous, didn’t like danger much, and hated the tropical wilderness with its hazards and insects and what-have-you. But she took a blow to the head—apparently not even thinking about the fact it might’ve killed her—from Orni in the town of Renata, allowing her to break Orni’s ribs and force a tie.

Dechaa was truly unpredictable. Without the use of her magic, Delia was just as doubtful as she was positive that Dechaa would do something most ponies would classify as insane.

This one would be good, too. Dechaa had already begun to pace around; she didn’t stand still as the others had. Wilka looked… less than enthusiastic.

Loress presided over this one, “Okay, girls, let’s have a good, clean fight. Dechaa… don’t do anything desperate this time; take your own advice and let’s try not to kill each other.”

Loress said this with a reluctant smile but Delia saw the worry. And she saw the worry in the others, including Wilka. Dechaa’s “inconsistency of character” when it came to danger was nothing to sneeze at.

It was as if she teetered on the edge between being a lover and a fighter… Delia couldn’t come up with anything nicer than that. She didn’t want to refer to Dechaa as being “caught in the middle of being a basket case and having a most ferocious nature”, which was still what she really thought.

Dechaa had grown up in the shadow of her best friend, the princess, and had been expected to behave as a refined daughter of the Dale’s leadership her whole life. Regardless, the former maid knew the healer to be unstable; she could see it.

There had to be a breaking point somewhere.

Delia could feel a tension in the air.

“Uh, girls…?” Dechaa dropped the dirk from between her teeth. “I’m… sorry.”

Loress blinked, “Sorry for what?”

Dechaa's eyes were rather bleak, “I don’t want to fight today.”

Delia noted the air, still tense, relax a modicum.

“Are you okay?” Wilka looked to her friend, concerned.

Dechaa muttered, “Uh…. Yeah! Yeah, I think so…”

The healer turned and paddled to sit on the side, leaving the dirk behind. Everypony looked worried, but were still more relaxed than they had been, seeing Dechaa stalk about.

Wilka picked up the dirk, “Well… okay, then.”

The air had calmed but something else had gone out of it too.

Essenta hoofed her neck, “Uh, Delia?”

“Yes, Essenta?”

“I… don’t wanna fight,” the princess looked embarrassed.

The strange thing is, Delia didn’t want to either, “I understand… It’s fine.”

Delia had half expected Dechaa to say “don’t quit on my account” but she didn’t. Dechaa lounged against one of the wagon’s wheels, staring at nothing.

Oh, boy… Delia worried.

The others seemed put off by the last match being called off, but something just didn’t seem right.

Lunch was a quiet affair. Loress and Delia had put together a stew of mixed roots and tubers; it was rather bland—their spices were dwindling—but tasty enough alongside the makeshift biscuits they’d baked. A bit of fresh fruit and they had a fine meal.

But the joy was gone.

After lunch, Essenta sort of wandered off into the savanna; the girls had agreed to stay in pairs, at the very least, even during the day. Delia, seeing the others had noticed, motioned she’d follow.

It seemed predictable they were going to talk about Dechaa, but with Dechaa and her 1,000-yard-stare by the wagon they weren’t worried Dechaa would care.

Delia waited a moment and about 200 yards before calling out, “Essenta!”

Essenta slowed down, her back to Delia.

Delia, knowing Essenta was upset, tested the waters, “I can’t just let you go off on your own, you know. Come back to camp.”

At that, Essenta collapsed and began to sob.

Delia, not entirely shocked, bolted up, “Essenta!”

The princess, sniffling, looked up into Delia’s eyes; she looked weak, “Delia… I don’t know what’s wrong…”

“‘Wrong’?” Delia wished she’d had something better to say.

“All of it,” Essenta gasped. “Dechaa… and everypony else... something’s wrong!”

The former maid couldn’t argue that everypony was a little funny but Essenta was likely overthinking matters.

Delia didn’t want to describe the princess as hysterical but tried to find something better; she sat next to and put a hoof over the princess’s shoulders, “Essenta… stop this. Everypony’s feeling a little off. I mean, we’re stuck on the edge of a rainforest because we got fucked in the ass by some pirate. Relax… Relax and try to worry less. We haven't had any trouble down here and hopefully it stays that way. In a few days we’ll have enough supplies built up we can cross the desert again. And don’t worry about what we do after that; focus on us getting back across.”

Sometimes Essenta just needed to hear somepony with a clearer head than hers; encouraged by Delia, she stood, “I’m sorry, Delia…”

Delia sighed, “It’s fine, Essenta. Don’t keep this stuff in; your friends love you and they’ll listen.”

Essenta wiped at her nose, a sad smile showing, “You say that like you’re not one of my friends.”

Delia was unfazed, “Rest assured, I am your friend, as you are mine. You know what I mean.”

Essenta relaxed as Delia put a hoof over her shoulder and pulled her in for a brief hug, “Okay… let’s go back.

“Okay, girls,” Delia addressed the small assembly of mares. “We’ve been at this for more than a week and our supplies are looking a lot stouter. It won’t be long until we have enough flour to bake enough to make the trip, but we want some actual flour for when we reach the oasis. We have wood, water, and shelter there, so we can definitely bake.”

“If that cocksucker Hagano didn’t poison the water hole on us,” Zyra grumbled.

Delia knew this was a half-joke, as did the rest; it was nasty, but not entirely serious, “He’d have to shit an awful lot to contaminate the water, Zyra; don’t worry.”

The girls, all feeling better than they had the day they’d sparred, cracked up. They’d searched Hagano, and knew he had nothing on him that could harm their water source halfway to the city. And there was certainly nothing in the food bag with which he could poison much of anything.

It still pissed them off, though, thinking of him pigging out on enough rations to see the whole party an entire five days.

Delia joined in the laughter, but soon got back to the matter at hoof, “You’ve all gotten pretty good at identifying some of the plants around here, especially the yams and cassava. But we’re finding less in our normal foraging grounds; it’s gotten scarce, all of us picking it. We need more flour—and fruit—and we need to spread out more.”

This was met with some nervousness; the jungle was scary enough within sight of the savanna. Wilka had seen a tiger a couple days before, certainly aware some four-legged meals were hanging out in its hunting grounds.

“I know it isn’t ideal, girls, but we don’t have enough material. We could spend another four or five days scraping around where we’ve been or spread out further and have what we need in an afternoon or two.”

Delia’s words were true enough.

Essenta stood up, “Alright, then. Orni, you and I will stay with the camp. Delia, take Zyra and Wilka. Dechaa, take Ama and Loress. I don’t want you going out more than 100 yards farther without communicating.”

Dechaa put up a hoof, “Sen! I tried again and got it to work.”

Essenta and the others beamed.

For the last couple days, Dechaa had been trying to enchant a few rocks to use in communication. She’d managed with orbs before but not rocks with no inherent magical conductivity.

“I got them to work this morning,” Dechaa presented Essenta and Delia with one and kept one for herself.

Dechaa teleported to about 100 paces away and waved to the others; they saw her levitate the rock close.

“Can you girls hear me?” her voice sounded from each of the stones.

The girls whooped and hollered in celebration.

Essenta smiled, always impressed with her best friend, “We hear you, Dechaa. Good work.”

Dechaa teleported back and received many a buffet from her friends.

“Dechaa,” Delia could hardly believe it. “You could make a fortune off this! Do you know how expensive those little crystal balls are?!”

Essenta broke up the merriment, “Okay, girls… The goal is finding good material for flour and some fruit we could easily dry. Let’s communicate every 15 minutes or so and try to come back in an hour. Everypony’s citronella rag doing alright?”

The girls murmured ascent; they’d just freshened them up that morning.

“Great,” Essenta answered. “Orni and I will get started on preparing lunch. Be careful out there.”

The girls were treated to more of the landscape they were familiar with, but Delia’s group had found a new water source.

Zyra eyed it dubiously, “I don’t think we want to even bother with this, Delia…”

Wilka couldn’t tell what was wrong but Delia sniffed the water.

The former maid wrinkled her nose, “Yuck… It’s tainted. Could just be bacterial but don’t be surprised if you find a dead carcass nearby… its fluids might’ve seeped into the water.”

The girls didn’t find any dead carcass but found a lot of nice yams and some kind of melon. They’d seen monkeys eating the melon, so they figured it was safe. They’d never trust what only birds ate but would take a chance on something other mammals ate.

Not dissatisfied with their findings, they ventured into the jungle a little further.

“Whoa!” Zyra jumped backwards.

Delia startled, “What is it?”

Zyra looked confused, “I’m… not sure.”

The mage paced forward again and met the same sensation; she backed up, uncomfortable.

Delia approached; nervously she put out a hoof… and felt nothing.

“There’s nothing, Zyra… Are you okay?” Wilka had poked around herself.

Zyra shook her head, “No… there’s something… I can feel it.”

Delia stared into the jungle, “I don’t see anything.”

Zyra appeared to get an idea, “Stand back.”

Wilka and Delia backed away, seeing Zyra light up her horn.

Zyra let out a bolt—nothing big—and Wilka and Delia were shocked to see it ricochet off what appeared to be thin air.

The mage looked all sorts of worried and confused, “Well, it’s no wonder you can’t feel it…”

Delia’s eyes were glued to the point at which the bolt had been deflected, “Well… what’s going on?”

Zyra was unused to hearing distress in Delia’s voice; she turned to Wilka and Delia, her nervousness reflecting theirs, “It’s a magical barrier, girls…”

Author's Note

Check out the Appendix for Princess Essenta, updated as the story moves along. It shows the story's timeline and character designs. Contains spoilers.

Not feeling their very best, the little company continues to gather supplies in hopes of making it back to "The City of Last Chances".

And what strange development has Wilka uncovered?

If you enjoy Princess Essenta, please take a look at Larkspur Blossom. A story of a colt finding his worth and making a better life for himself.

Also look for The Virgin Company. A tale of a military pony and his platoon in a war centuries ago.

Like, follow, or leave a comment if you please. It's been fun writing and I'm glad some enjoy it.

Thanks for reading, and take care.

Chapter 42: Cry in the Wilderness

Desolate Places Arc

“I’ve never seen anything like this…” Dechaa let a wisp of magic from her horn, watching it lazily bounce off the surface of what Zyra had found.

Zyra had called over Dechaa and her group, “Yeah…”

Ama tentatively put a hoof through what Zyra had described to be a “magical barrier”, “That is most strange… I cannot feel anything.”

Loress took a walk through the barrier; she felt her fur stand on end and a most unpleasant sensation shoot through her body, “That’s no detriment to your being, Ama… as a Mazan you wouldn’t likely be able to perceive it, even with your Terran blood. For me it… sends a chill down my spine… and not much more.”

“That sounds about right,” Zyra said absent-mindedly as she probed the barrier. “Dechaa… stay here.”

Zyra, to the mild shock of the rest, trotted through the barrier; she cringed, but it caused no real harm.

“What are you doing?” Wilka cocked her head.

“Testing things out,” Zyra replied.

They watched the mage send a few trickles of magic at the barrier and saw them glance off, staying inside.

The mage looked puzzled, “Uh… Delia… toss me your stone.”

Delia hoofed the item and lobbed it to Zyra.

Zyra held up Delia’s communicating stone—one of the three Dechaa had enchanted—and said, “I know you can hear me, but can you hear me through the stone?”

Dechaa held up her own, “Try it.”

Zyra turned her back as to bend her voice in a different direction, speaking into the stone, “Is it working?”

The girls heard nothing from the stone; this was alarming.

Zyra waved to Dechaa, “Dechaa, come inside. It tickles some, but it won’t hurt.”

Dechaa crossed through with the willingness of a three-legged giraffe being forced onto a tightrope; she felt an unpleasant jolt from her nose all the way to her lady-parts, “Neeeeigh…”

The girls almost laughed at that; Zyra cringed, “Sucks, don’t it?”

“You said it wasn’t that bad,” Dechaa whined.

“C’mon, it’s just like tickling your ‘giney,” Zyra grinned nastily.

The girls did laugh at that.

“You’re a real cunt sometimes…” Dechaa glowered.

Zyra laughed, “Relax, buddy… I didn’t pull you over here to give your shame-cave attention.”

Ama snorked.

“Stand about 10 paces away from me, Dechaa,” Zyra motioned.

Dechaa did so, “Now what?”

“Do the stones work over on this side?” Zyra held up hers.

“Oh…” Dechaa did the same and spoke into her own. “Anything?”

Zyra did hear Dechaa; she nodded, “Oh, yeah…”

The mage crossed the barrier again, as did the healer; they felt the sensation again.

Zyra began speaking, relating her thoughts, “It’s quite a barrier… Magic can’t come in… or go out, it seems. I could try to really give it a blast, but I don’t want to risk it; I don’t know what might happen. The stones can’t communicate across it, but magic seems totally unaffected inside. It’s just a barrier; it doesn’t appear to neutralize.”

Wilka looked up, unable to perceive the barrier at all; she was a normal Pegasus, barring her regeneration magic, “So is it, like, a wall?”

Zyra knew Wilka wouldn’t be able to test what she was hypothesizing, “Doubtful… I don’t know what the range of the stones is but if there was an interruption in the barrier we’d likely be able to commune. Let’s see.”

The girls knew Zyra could levitate; her magic was rather powerful. Zyra took off and several feet off the ground, passed through the barrier; she cringed but had no trouble doing so.

“It interrupts magic but doesn’t break up the aura as long as you maintain it throughout your body,” Dechaa opined.

Zyra looked down, “Seems so. I’m going further up.”

“Don’t…!” Dechaa worried.

“Don’t sweat it,” Zyra advised. “We have cover.”

One must be reminded they were in a rainforest; they had cover, alright—sometimes it was 100 yards high. It wasn’t so thick that close to the savanna but it was still impressive.

Zyra followed the barrier; it went straight up for a time and she bounded through the high branches. Up and up it went… until it finally began to bend further into the sky; it was just noticeable, but it was there.

The barrier appeared to be convex.

Not eager to see how high it went, she made her way back down.

But eager faces greeted her; Dechaa gulped, “So…?

Zyra didn’t like this one bit, “It’s enormous… like a giant bubble; it might go up for a mile or so… Doesn’t keep out air… sunshine… or rain, probably… just magic.”

The mares exchanged glances; this was some scary shit…

Zyra decided, “We travel east a little… Let’s see how far it goes.”

“You found what?!” Essenta’s jaw dropped.

The girls were discussing what Zyra had discovered, eating lunch.

“We found a magical barrier deeper in,” Zyra stated simply, poking at her porridge; she’d had more time to process the idea.

“A magical barrier?” Essenta had a problem wrapping her mind around the concept.

“That’s what I said, Cap,” Zyra wasn’t frustrated with Essenta’s disbelief; the little mage had never seen anything like it. “And it’s huge…

Even the impenetrable barrier Aodh Radulf had constructed around her hometown wasn’t the size of an entire country…

Dread overtook the girls a moment; they’d done and seen some crazy things, but this beggared the imagination.

Loress spoke; she couldn’t keep the wavering from her voice, addressing their splendid leader, “So… Princess? What’s this mean?”

Essenta’s voice came a little hollow, “We process the starchy foods we have… We do one more forage in the woods and we split.”

The mares had already begun to envision what horrors lay beyond the barrier. Hagano had been the only pony—as far as they knew—to make it out of the jungle. Something was wrong as Hell down south and they eagerly pounced on Essenta’s idea.

Delia nodded, “We go in together… in a group of five. Three of us stay with the wagon… I’m… concerned now.”

So were the rest; not a one of them disagreed.

Essenta, a little shaky now, turned to the group, “Ama and Orni… I want you to stay with me and the wagon…”

The princess hated not leaving a unicorn in camp, given the situation, but felt even more afraid not having both out there; they were going past the barrier, after all.

Dechaa voiced the concern, “Wouldn’t leaving Zyra here and taking you make more sense?”

“I don’t like it either way…” Essenta shook her head. “But I want the both of you out there. And me? I’m not all that useful… much less skilled than Ama or Orni.”

They nodded; the princess had spoken.

Essenta moved towards the wagon, “Everypony with Delia, grab a sack and water; let’s make this quick. Ama, Orni, and me… will try to process some flour while you’re gone.”

Delia noted Essenta’s grave manner, “You aren’t thinking of leaving tonight, are you?”

Essenta shook her head, “No… I think we’ll try for tomorrow night. That gives us a day to rest up… and prepare more fixings for flour and bake more. We’re going back into the desert after all; we can dry starch on the wagon…”

Delia took the lead in the jungle; Loress was in the middle with Dechaa in front of her while Zyra and Wilka held up the rear. Delia and Zyra both held a “talk-rock”, while Essenta had the third back in camp.

“It’s coming up right here,” Dechaa regarded the point at which she knew the barrier began.

Delia saw Dechaa shudder, “Is it that bad?”

Dechaa turned, her eyes unhappy, “I really don’t like it.”

Zyra chuckled as she passed through, with a lascivious look about her, “I dunno; I kinda like it.”

Wilka and Loress giggled; Dechaa glowered.

Delia was amused by Zyra but not their situation, “Well, we’re in. Let’s find a few bags’ worth of yams or cassava… maybe some fresh fruit that would keep for a while.”

They’d dried enough fruit to travel a thousand miles and then some; fresh would be welcome.

They stuck close, carefully paddling along. They found plenty of yams, some cassava, and even a little taro.

Wilka was browsing and found a clearing, “Hey, girls! Save some room! Look what I found.”

Delia arrived and was pleased to see the now-familiar melons littering the ground; she picked one, “And just the perfect ripeness.”

The girls eagerly picked the fruits; with their heavy rinds, they’d do better in the desert than many of the exotic fruits they’d found.

A little further along, Wilka found another welcome sight, “Oh, no way!”

They all beamed. Oranges. And late in the autumn was a damn good time to find a nice orange.

Laden with goodies, the girls made their way back to camp in good spirits; they'd almost forgotten about whatever the fuck might be going on behind the barrier.

Considering their luck, they chose to set off again immediately to bag a few more yams; there were plenty where they’d been.

By this time, it was the middle of the afternoon… and they were a lot less enthusiastic to be out there than they had been a mere hour earlier.

It was hot but a very different kind of hot; dry heat seemed a blessing compared to this humidity shit…

Delia grumbled, her sweaty tunic soaked through, “Everypony take another drink of water, even if you don’t think you need it. By the time you feel thirsty… you’re already dehydrated.”

The mares did as was recommended; Delia had said the same thing to them multiple times a day, but they had more than enough water and it saved them a lot of sickness and headaches.

Zyra grinned, panting a little, “Well, the jungle’s been interesting, but I’ll be really glad to see the desolation of the desert again.”

Loress tottered along, “Never again… I’m never going into another… jungle as long as I live… once we leave…”

It was odd to hear Loress winded; Delia asked, “You feel okay, Loress?”

Loress sighed, “Yeah… It’s just we Terrans weren’t built for this kind of crap…”

This wasn’t untrue. While Loress didn’t look all that bulky, her body was dense with muscle, giving her excellent insulation. It made paddling through the desert at night more tolerable than it might and paddling through the jungle a real suck-fest.

But they moved on, approaching the spot so abundant in its yam-ness.

Dechaa felt an entirely new sensation rush through her body; she cried out, her legs buckling.

“Dechaa!” Delia cried out. “What’s going on?”

To the dismay of the girls, Dechaa tucked up her back legs and began to sob; it wasn’t “normal” sobbing either… She was broken, shaking.

“Dechaa!” Delia tried to get a look at her face. “Let me see!”

Zyra put a hoof to Delia’s, “No…”

Delia was shocked by Zyra’s complexion; the mage looked like death.

“Zyra…” Delia stammered. “What’s wrong?!”

The mage didn’t answer; she began to slowly back up, her breathing quickening as she glanced around.

Delia, eyes darting about, shuffled nearby; she bumped into Loress.

The Terran stood transfixed; she didn’t look sick but very disturbed, “Something's… very wrong. Somepony’s… hurting… a lot…”

Delia had never seen Loress look this frightened—she’d not been around for the dragon-punch, but Loress’s manner wasn’t far off from that.

Delia looked around; she felt nothing—saw nothing.

Wilka’s eyes were terrified; she whimpered, her voice frantic, “What’s wrong with them?!”

Delia had already connected the dots: she and Wilka were “normal” ponies but the other three had—at the very, very least—extra-sensory perception.

“It’s a filly…” Dechaa’s choked voice caused Delia to jump out of her skin.

“What…?” Delia hadn’t quite registered; she looked to Zyra, now in tears, leaning against a tree. “What’s happening?!”

Loress’s eyes cleared, “It’s a unicorn filly…”

Wilka backed up towards Loress; next to the Terran was probably still the safest place to be, “How can you tell…?”

Loress shook her head slowly; her complexion lost the very small amount of color it had, “I just… can…”

Delia was now reasonably scared; their unicorns and the strongest mare among them had turned to jelly on her, “Girls… try to calm down… We can’t fall apart now…”

The former maid could hear the alarm in her own voice; she couldn’t help it, though. Wilka was about to panic, she could tell.

Not sure what else to do, Delia pulled out her communication stone.

“This would be so much easier with magic…” Essenta complained as she pounded a small rock against a bigger rock; in between the rocks were the tuberous roots of the cassava plant.

Ama chuckled, having more luck with a large mortar and pestle, “Do not complain. I would rather be here, doing this, than in the forest. Even my own country does not see this level of temperature…”

Orni was further breaking up some dried yam; it took some doing to reduce it to a powder, “This isn’t so bad… At least we won’t be hungry on the way back to the big city.”

Ama smiled, “The first thing I will do—other than have a nice bath—is visit that little pub. I look forward to seeing Rokka and Beli again.”

“Who?” Essenta wondered.

Orni giggled, “The brothers that run the pub, Essenta… You should remember; Ama only mentions them every other day.”

Essenta guessed she might’ve heard… When Ama started monologuing her love of tasty, tasty booze, Essenta had turned her mind off.

“I miss ale…” the princess lamented.

Ama knew of the princess’s struggles and didn’t wish to rub it in but she had a lamentation of her own, “Besides our food, that pirate took a bottle of apple pie… They had put it into our food bag as a gift…”

The girls had been delighted to see the couple extra bottles of liquor the brothers had been kind enough to contribute to their journey. It was a small blessing they had stowed the whiskey in a different place.

Their milling was interrupted by Essenta’s communication stone; Essenta hoofed it out, “You girls already heading back?”

“Essenta!” Wilka cried. “Something’s wrong!”

Essenta hadn’t expected to hear the little Pegasus on the other end; she wasn’t nervous yet, “What is it?”

“Something’s wrong with Dechaa… really wrong… and Zyra and Loress aren’t much better!”

Essenta sat bolt-upright, “What’s happening…? Where are you?”

By now Ama and Orni had gathered around.

Wilka sounded close to tears, “I’m just outside the barrier, up a tree; Delia sent me to contact you. I guess… the unicorns felt somepony in distress in the jungle; Loress noticed it too! They’re freaking out!”

Essenta exchanged alarmed glances with the other two; she said to Wilka, “Do you think you and Delia can get them back?”

“…We can try,” Wilka sounded. “Delia figures she can clock out Dechaa and Zyra if she has to… Loress is upset but she’s not losing it or anything. Delia says to stay out there. We can’t afford anypony alone…”

Essenta knew this to be true; she wasn’t about to leave a mare alone with the wagon or send one into the forest alone… and they wouldn’t leave the wagon unguarded.

Reluctantly, Essenta said, “Tell Delia to do what she sees fit; she and Loress can easily carry them back if it comes to it… Get out of the jungle…”

Wilka was ready to agree, “Okay.”

The connection was broken; Essenta fell to her rump, holding her head between her legs, “Oh… What’s going on out there…?”

Orni was terribly worried but Ama put a reassuring hoof to Essenta’s shoulder, “Delia and Wilka will be fine, Essenta. They are both clever. Do not fret and let us get back to work.”

Essenta hated it, but there wasn’t a thing she could do, “You’re right, Ama… We still have a lot to do.”

Wilka was greatly relieved to see the unicorns had calmed down by the time she got back. Loress had relaxed too.

Delia asked, “You get ahold of them?”

“Yeah…” Wilka lowered her voice. “What’s going on?”

Delia whispered back, though Loress came to them as well, “Whatever caused them to lose it stopped. Dechaa’s barely responding and I think Zyra’s sick…”

Wilka pulled the other two in, “Delia… Do you know the ‘magic suppressor’?”

Delia blinked, “The pressure point? Yes.”

“It'd be the best way to knock them out for a little while… just to be safe... if it comes to that. We get them across the barrier and whatever this is, it won’t bother them again.”

Delia wasn’t sure; clocking out the two unicorns would definitely get them to calm down… for a while. They’d be useless the whole way back to camp… but that sounded preferable to one of them having a fit.

Delia sighed, “Okay… We get them to drink a little water and we start to lead them back. If they freak out again… I’ll put them down and we’ll have to carry them back. Are you okay, Loress?”

Loress nodded tiredly, “I’ll be fine. I felt it, sure, but not like they did. You can count on me.”

With a little encouragement they got the unicorns to drink a little water and managed to get them standing. They’d not gathered a thing in the woods that trip but getting out was priority. If they couldn’t go back into the woods… they still had enough supplies to make it past the oasis, if not the whole desert.

Things were alright until they came near the barrier.

Loress—not the first to feel it—was the first to acknowledge it to the two “less in touch”, “Oh, no…”

Dechaa, just about catatonic to that point, fell over and began sobbing anew; she writhed and kicked.

Seeing this, Wilka finally lost her composure; she scampered away and hid behind a tree.

Zyra better had her wits about her this time, though she kept a hoof to her temple, “It’s happening again…”

While Zyra managed to sit down, Dechaa got worse; the healer began sparking from the horn. Matters grew graver when she started teleporting a few feet at a time.

Delia dove for Dechaa, reaching out her hoof, “No!”

Dechaa vanished, only to appear about three yards away.

Loress and Zyra both cried, “Stop her!”

Delia dove, making contact with Dechaa; before she could pinch the proper nerve, both she and Dechaa went poof.

Dechaa had teleported the both of them to another place.

Author's Note

Check out the Appendix for Princess Essenta, updated as the story moves along. It shows the story's timeline and character designs. Contains spoilers.

An afternoon of foraging has turned into a nightmare.

The unwell Dechaa has vanished, taking along with her the company's newest companion. With the group fractured, great danger lies ahead.

"Wicked World" Arc is next

If you enjoy Princess Essenta, please take a look at Larkspur Blossom. A story of a colt finding his worth and making a better life for himself.

Also look for The Virgin Company. A tale of a military pony and his platoon in a war centuries ago.

Like, follow, or leave a comment if you please. It's been fun writing and I'm glad some enjoy it.

Thanks for reading, and take care.

Chapter 43: Separation

Wicked World Arc

Loress stood for more than a few seconds, gawking at the little patch of ground from which Dechaa and Delia had gone poof; it still smoldered, tiny tendrils of smoke curling about.

“…Delia…?” the Terran heard the shock in her own voice and was more afraid.

The pretty mare felt a chill down her spine as she tottered backwards, “Wilka…?”

All she heard were the jungle creatures going about their non-sentient business.

A murmur had Loress jumping as if goosed; Zyra was rocking about on her haunches, looking very ill.

Loress ran to her, “Zyra!”

The mage’s eyes were filmed over, in a stupor, and she fell towards Loress; the mare just managed to catch her friend.

“Zyra!”

The mage, eyes somewhere far away, muttered something.

“Zyra, are you okay?! What’s happening?!”

The little unicorn heard that; her face swiveled to Loress’s, “Gone… Dechaa went there… called there… Somepony’s suffering…!”

Zyra crumpled against Loress, sobbing and limp; Loress was positive the mage wasn’t aware of anything, appearing as if in a trance.

Loress, having embraced her friend, looked fearfully into their surroundings; feeling alone, she closed her eyes and held Zyra close.

“…Loress…?”

Loress’s eyes shot to her left; Wilka was creeping out of her hidey-hole in the dense landscape.

Wilka froze; her eyes widened as she looked around in terror, “Where are Dechaa and Delia?”

Loress did a take; Wilka hadn’t seen?

The words came from the Terran's mouth, as if she was acknowledging the weather was nice, “They teleported away.”

Loress’s own words sounded hollow.

Wilka halted, “They’re… gone?”

Loress’s mind began to work… Yes… She recalled seeing Wilka dive into the forest not a moment earlier. Eyeing the tiny Pegasus, dread apparent in her eyes, Loress felt a brief contempt.

Her mind was working but not all that well; she felt contempt for Wilka because she ran off, even for a moment. It didn’t make a lot of sense to her and she tried to clear her thoughts, but the thought was there.

“Yes… they’re gone…” Loress answered harshly.

If Loress felt afraid at being “alone”, the little Pegasus fell apart. Seeing this, Loress looked to Zyra, now appearing asleep. Loress’s own senses were ragged but whatever was “screaming” somewhere out in the jungle had stopped; it gave her slight relief and a little clarity.

Loress laid Zyra down on her side, praying she wouldn’t throw up; she sat on her haunches and was able to think things out, “Sit down, Wilka… try to calm down.”

Wilka backed up, bumping into a tree, “We’re alone… Without Delia… we don’t know what we’re doing…”

Loress may have found something on which to latch her sanity, but her head hurt, and her coolness was fragile; the little Pegasus was infuriating…

“Cut it out, Wilka,” the rising panic in Wilka’s voice was having her feel more rattled.

Wilka wasn’t listening, “Where are we…? We’re gonna… Are we gonna die?”

Loress’s ears twitched; her flimsy tranquility was about to take a dirt-nap, “Shut up…”

The little Pegasus, easily able to fly and view their surroundings, and the Terran, likely the strongest sentient creature—other than a dragon—in the south, were good and scared; fear is fear, and both were feeling it.

Loress was still thinking, “Okay… we need to contact—”

She remembered something. Yes!

Rifling around Zyra’s “person”, she quickly located the “talk-rock”.

Holding the rock close, she cried into it, “Delia! Dechaa?! Can you hear me.”

Silence was the reply.

“Delia?! Dechaa? Can anypony hear me?!”

Loress wasn’t paying attention but Wilka had taken a bad turn; her sorry state only worsened with each non-existent response.

Loress tucked up, “Can anypony hear me…? Anypony…?”

Wilka abruptly began to sob.

Loress, her head between her legs, felt her relative outward calmness fall off a cliff, its neck tied to a big, old rock, “Stop…”

Falling to her side, Wilka curled up and began to shake; seeing this was the straw that broke the camel’s back for the Terran.

Loress jumped up with a shout and stopped herself; she’d been about to strike Wilka… her little friend… It… horrified her.

Applying the brakes—hating herself for what she’d been close to doing—she knelt next to Wilka; she tried to keep her voice calm, but it wavered, “Wilka… listen… You need to take the stone to the barrier… …need to contact Essenta.”

Even Loress herself knew if she was calling the princess by name she wasn’t at her best; it took all she had to not cry.

Wilka retreated further into herself, a little ball of pink and blonde; she murmured descent at such an idea.

“Wilka… please, you need to go,” Loress quavered, hoofing Wilka’s shoulder.

“…No…” came the muffled reply.

“Wilka… you’re the only one that can get there quickly… Zyra can’t move… and I’m too slow on the ground.”

“…No…”

Loress felt her temper twitch again; the calm she’d managed again was fleeting, “Wilka… stand up.”

“Leave me alone…” whimpered Wilka.

Loress felt her blood rise; she pressed her hoof deeper into the Pegasus’s shoulder, “Wilka… stand up…”

Wilka yielded to the pressure, as much as it hurt, “Go away…”

Loress blew her stack; roughly hauling Wilka to her hooves, she roared, “Snap out of it, you little fool! Dechaa and Delia are gone! Zyra’s out cold! You need to take this stone and contact Essenta!”

Wilka just hung limply in Loress’s grip, eyes leaking like sieves, looking miserable; quivering, she simply avoided eye-contact with the angry Terran, “I can’t…”

Loress shook her, perhaps harder than was safe for the little one’s neck, “Get your hooves under you and do as I say!”

Wilka only hung more limply, weeping anew; it was if Loress wasn’t even there.

After several attempts at actually cooling her manner, Loress realized what she was doing: she was scared; she was terrified and taking it out on Wilka.

Something she often forgot, in their months together, was that all of them were little more than children. Hell, half of them were just kids, even the one they followed.

Wilka was young… scared… had a lot of hurts Loress hadn’t thought to try to understand. Her reaction to Hagano’s “game”, already more than a week prior, revealed to those out of the know something dark in the little Pegasus… or pertaining to her.

Loress teared up, recognizing what she’d been doing; she sat down and embraced Wilka, weeping, “Oh, Wilka… I’m sorry… I’m so sorry… I’m so sorry…”

Wilka didn’t return the embrace but squeaked out, “I’m scared…”

She’d been afraid enough when it was still five of them.

Loress appreciated this a few seconds, “I know… I’m scared too…”

“What are we gonna do?”

The answer was the same; giving a few seconds to ensure Wilka was receptive, Loress spoke, “I need you to fly to the barrier; contact Essenta, Ama, and Orni. They need to know what happened.”

Wilka nuzzled in close, “I don’t want to go…”

Loress patted her back, “You need to go. I’m too slow and… Well, look at Zyra; she needs help.”

Wilka came to what Loress had suspected as much of the motivation for the show of dread, “What if you and Zyra disappear…?”

Firmly, yet gently hugging her friend, Loress said into her ear, “We won’t; I promise you.”

“What about the filly, or whatever’s making all that disturbance?”

Loress was relieved she was able to tell the truth, “Whatever it is, it’s stopped for now, but I don’t know when it might start up again, if it does. You can make it to the barrier in a couple minutes. I have to stay with Zyra; if she acts up again, I know the pressure-point as well as anypony.”

“But… I’m afraid.”

Loress was very glad to not have to lie to her, “You’re strong, Wilka… have faith. I know it’s hard but have faith. I’ll be here, watching over Zyra. Remember… I’m tougher than those lions and tigers and bears…”

Wilka giggled, in spite of herself, “I thought I was gonna crap myself when I saw that tiger the other day…”

Loress chuckled in turn; she’d not been scared for herself but her friends, “Yeah… you weren’t the only one; that’s not something we saw on the other side of the desert… Just stick to the canopies and keep an eye out; you’ll be fine.”

Wilka hadn’t quite agreed to go, but asked, “What do you want me to say to them?”

Somehow, Delia managed to keep her grip around Dechaa’s trunk. Her only company—other than the spazzing unicorn— were flashes of bright light, rushes of air and flowing water, and her own screams. And she did plenty of screaming.

The former floor-scrubber found herself falling through the canopy of some titanic tree and in a shock of blinding brightness the healer was plunging them into a lake.

Dechaa had taken her on quite a ride, ferrying her to many places. Underwater—literally rolling in mud at the bottom of some river, glancing off the apparent magic barrier some miles above the Earth—complete with terrifying freefalls, and spaces of vast emptiness… and spaces full of roaring fire.

Still, she held on, through the void and wherever else they wound up. The two of them were in no one place more than five or six seconds and it likely saved them from going splat against the ground somewhere when Delia found them up in the air.

Rather than a splat it was more like…

Whumph!

Delia landed flat on her back, Dechaa on top of her; the force of the impact and the knock to her noggin finally got her to release her death-grip.

Her wind knocked, she gasped loudly, eyes wide-open to the blue sky.

It took a second, but she soon realized she was without something… something to which she’d held on for dear life.

Lazily turning her glance to one side, her body had begun to relax but her eyes beheld Dechaa, who'd rolled away. The healer was foaming at the mouth, jittering, and appearing to shift before Delia’s eyes; she was “micro-teleporting” across the ground.

With a groan, Delia gathered her strength and willed herself to move. Her hooves found Dechaa and she began to feel the now-familiar “pull” that had sent the two on their high-flying terror-trip; she managed to pinch the sought-after nerve near the neck, halting Dechaa’s activity.

The former maid fell to her face with a muzzle-crushing plurp. She smelled something… earthy. It wasn’t the smell that got her attention but what was felt.

Her eyes shooting wide, she soon realized she was on a lush, yet manicured bed of grass.

Rolling to one side, her head spinning, she found herself… in an alleyway?

Scrambling her back hooves, propelling herself to a wall, she looked around. What greeted her was a familiar sight; it was much like any alleyway in “Last Chance”, though with grass instead of gravel or mud… and less garbage and horseshit. Noting she wasn’t in sight of any of the windows, of which there were only a couple, she felt secure enough to let down her guard a little.

Rubbing at her sore muzzle she further realized it was still hot… humid… but her back was to a brick wall.

Bricks?! She looked at them.

As sure as night’s dark and day’s light they weren’t in the jungle anymore.

Things started making sense, as if waking from a fitful sleep. She viscerally remembered bouncing off the sky; they were in Salvatrix. The darkness and fire nonsense she couldn’t justify but they’d not escaped the physical realm of the barrier.

Like many, even those that should’ve known better, Delia envisioned Salvatrix as a place where ponies—barring the movers and shakers of the world—lived in huts of mud and grass, foraging off the merciless jungle like rats. But it had been a hundred years since New Salvatrix was founded. They had roads, plenty of wood, quarries, and had plowed up untold acres of farmland in the rainforest.

Shit, they grew enough sugarcane to supply the southern continent with crystal sweetness.

Dechaa had brought them to a town, if not a proper city.

Speaking of Dechaa, Delia heard the unicorn stir. Crawling to her, she quickly realized her friend had had a fit. She hadn’t been foaming at the mouth and jittering simply for the Hell of it. Blood trickled from Dechaa’s lip, having apparently been bitten in the throes of seizure. Her body twitched but Delia knew it was just the unicorn’s muscles finally relaxing.

Brrrrpt…

Dechaa certainly knew that ponies often voided themselves after throwing a fit—or dying—but she never quite got used to it. Near her friend’s posterior, Delia got a full snootful of fetid horse-pie.

Already nauseous from the wild ride and hitting her head, Delia crumpled towards the nearest wall and vomited next to an empty crate. Spitting and hacking, she lackadaisically recognized the cashew sweet-bread they’d succeeded in making, not hours earlier; it had been quite good, considering the lack of yeast really stunted their baking repertoire.

Back to the moment, though, the Devil’s mixture of heat, humidity, puke, and Dechaa’s pigments fashioned a ripe perfume that had Delia gagging all over again. Rolling away from her fresh pile of sick, Delia got another look of the sky, in between the buildings.

She recalled hazily the wet-season was beginning in the tropics; the girls had only seen a few rain showers but soon the land would see them daily. At the moment the sky was clear as a bell.

Coughing, the foul acid taste overpowering in her mouth, Delia spotted a rain barrel. Crawling towards it she prayed it to be full. Her pleas to Heaven were rewarded; the last shower, channeled by a pipe from the roof, had filled the barrel with clean rainwater. Delia dunked her head, not only clearing her mouth but her senses.

Feeling like a new mare she slumped against the barrel, finally taking a good look at herself… and Dechaa; they’d been on quite a journey, covered in fresh bruises and scratches, their now-filthy tunics bearing witness to all they’d done and seen in the last 10 minutes.

Glancing up again, she espied somepony’s clean laundry hanging on a line.

She was out of it but the little filly—whose earliest concrete memories entailed scamming and scheming with her father—was still alive and well in Delia’s mind.

Without even being fully-conscious of it, her first priority was to blend in; gagging once again, she used some unfortunate pony’s clean linens and water from the rain barrel to clean up her friend and herself. She even found a coarse wad of laundry-soap with a scrub-brush in an adjacent bucket, allowing for a proper cleaning.

Once the worst of it was off, it was bath-time for the two of them; the barrel was big enough. Sad to say, if somepony had been relying on that water for any purpose outside of tricking some neighbor they hated into taking a drink, they were shit-out-of-luck.

Down the alleyway, Delia saw a plethora of simple dresses, like in their manner and color, hanging on another line.

Smiling a little to herself, she knew she’d be fine. She shook herself like a dog and paddled to the next batch of laundry.

“What did you say, Wilka?!” Essenta was shocked to hear the things that had transpired in the jungle.

Wilka repeated herself reluctantly, “Whatever’s going on out there started up again… Zyra keeled over and we think Dechaa had a seizure. When Dechaa started to teleport, Delia tried to stop her and… they vanished.”

Ama and Orni looked over Essenta’s shoulders in positive alarm; this was bad.

Dechaa. Gone. Gone. Delia. Dechaa. Gone… Gone… Gone… Essenta’s head swam.

Essenta tried to keep from yelling; it wasn’t really working and all that came out was, “Is Loress okay?!”

The reply wasn’t hysterical, but close, “She’s back with Zyra. She’s not doing great, but she’s not as affected. Just a couple minutes ago she said it had stopped again, but it was worse than last time… I don’t know if it’s gonna start again…! We tried reaching them on one of the ‘talk-rocks’ but there was no answer. I think Delia still has the other but we’re not sure; it’s gone, regardless.”

Essenta wracked her brains, “…”

The princess looked to Orni; the little Knollwing was done, looking as young and inexperienced as she actually was. The two reflected the same fear as the other.

Ama didn’t hesitate; she trotted to the wagon, “I am going in.”

Essenta had been at a loss for a few seconds but quickly recovered, “What?! You can’t go in there!”

Ama already had her ball and chain, reaching for a short sword, “Our friends need us. They need me out there and you and Orni here.”

“You’re not going out there, especially not alone!” Essenta yelled.

Ama appeared tepid but her voice sounded feeble as she shouldered a water jug, “Essenta… you cannot navigate the forest… Orni is close to panic; look at her! I was born in the jungle; I can find my way, especially if Wilka helps.”

Essenta tried to justify things in her head, “If you’re going in, Orni and me are too!”

Ama rounded on the princess; Essenta had never seen such a look on Ama’s face, “No, Essenta… You and Orni must remain. You must protect our supplies; you must pack the wagon and be ready.”

Essenta’s stomach dropped out; seeing the dead seriousness in Ama, “Ready for what?”

Ama pulled the words out; it looked painful, “We must be ready to run.”

The six words didn’t quite register with Essenta, “What…?”

Ama was rapidly aware Essenta didn’t understand; it hurt her to say it, so she danced around it, “Yes, Essenta… We must be ready to run if needed.”

Essenta’s voice sounded foreign to her own ears, “What do you mean…?”

At this, Ama’s composure dropped, “Essenta! Gather your senses and think! We have no idea what is going on out there! We are hundreds of miles away from even relative safety, if such a thing even exists for us! Something most wicked festers in the southern wilderness and it is certainly a thing for which we are no match! You and Orni must make ready!”

Essenta saw a glimmer of harsh truth in the forefront of her mind; her words came out slowly and with great hesitance, “When you say ‘run’, you mean…”

Ama’s eyes, already having welled up, began to leak; she knew Essenta had begun to understand, “Yes, Essenta… and I do mean immediately.”

The awareness of the situation further dawned to the princess; she cried, “Leave Dechaa and Delia…?! We can’t—”

Strangling out a sob, Ama roughly hoofed Essenta; the thought of doing such a thing tore her apart, “YES, WE CAN, IF WE MUST! And we will! Essenta! We cannot lose six for the sake of two!”

“But Ama!” Essenta bawled.

Ama shook her, “Princess! You are our leader! We chose to follow you here of our own freewill, but you are our leader! We chose to trust you and we are facing something the likes of which we cannot fathom; I can feel it in my heart! There may be no fighting this!”

The fact Ama called Essenta by her title had the princess more than rattled, “I…”

Ama almost screamed, hoisting Essenta up, “You must lead us! Being a leader is hard… But if you fail us as such, I will never forgive you, Princess Essenta Dale! Even if they hate you for the rest of their lives—even if you hate yourself and choose to die by your own hoof when all is said and done and we are scattered across the world—you have a responsibility to them!”

Essenta shied away from Ama’s onslaught; she heard alright but could do little more than cry in a limp mess.

But Ama knew the princess had finally—at long, fucking last—come to appreciate the gravity of the power she’d so casually taken upon herself.

Ama set Essenta down and exhaled, “Now… recognize the situation and lead us, Princess. If you do so to the best of your ability, I will not be loath to follow you and will gladly do so to the ends of the Earth… So, stand up straight!”

Essenta perked up; she quivered, and her eyes leaked, but she was standing up like a proper princess.

Ama waited.

Essenta hoofed the stone; she fleetingly looked for Orni and found the little mare cowering against a tree, “Wilka… can you hear me?”

One may forget the little Pegasus was privy to all this; she gasped, fumbling on the other end, “Yes, Essenta?”

“Is there anything you need in the jungle? Ama has a water jug, a sword, and her ball-and-chain. Is there anything you need?”

Wilka replied, rattling off what Loress had requested, “We need extra water, a day's worth of food, something to perk up Zyra and Loress—maybe something for fever or delirium… Bring a few short swords, too; I don’t know what’s happening next.”

Essenta looked to Ama, already gathering these things, hauling over the medicine-bag.

Steeling herself, the princess waited until Ama was back next to her, “Wilka… I need you to listen and listen carefully. Once you and Ama rejoin the others, Ama’s in charge, you hear?”

Essenta fleetingly noted Ama’s eyes dart her way.

Wilka stammered; it was a well-accepted fact Loress was the de facto second-in-command, “What about Loress?”

Essenta restated, “Ama’s in charge; you’re to do what she says without hesitation.”

She turned to Ama, “Can you accept this?”

Ama was just as jarred as Essenta but nodded, “I accept.”

Essenta called to Wilka, “Wilka… I trust you with this. I don’t know what’s gonna happen but… trust Ama, please…”

The answer came shaky; Wilka had heard everything Ama had said, “I understand…”

Ama had located the things she’s sought after, had a few short swords, a bag of food, and ten gallons of water; none of this even felt heavy to her, “I am ready.”

“Do you want to take the third stone with you?” Essenta asked.

It was a hard choice for the princess, but it may have better served in Ama’s hooves at the time.

Ama shook her head; it was a difficult call for her, too, “No… it must remain here. It is only of use once we leave the barrier, but seconds and minutes of notice may be our salvation.”

Essenta nodded and spoke into the rock again, “Wilka… keep an eye out for Ama; she’ll be there soon. And guard the stone with your life. Keep trying to reach Delia and Dechaa.”

Wilka understood the last stone would remain outside the barrier, “Okay…”

Ama began to gallop; she called to the princess, “Rouse Orni and prepare the wagon, Essenta! I do not know what awaits but I will hold out for hope as long as I see it!”

Essenta watched Ama disappear into the jungle.

As long as she sees it… Essenta knew Ama to be the closest to the embodiment of faith that likely existed… If she chose to hold out for hope it would take the sky crashing down on her to convince her otherwise. But when other ponies were at stake as well…?

Swallowing hard, she tried to put her worries and concerns—which were numerous—aside. As was recommended, she went to rouse Orni; they had work to do.

Having left their soiled tunics and the shit/puke/blood-stained linens that somepony would never be able to use again in the erstwhile empty crate beside which she’d yakked, Delia shouldered their water jugs and looked around a corner.

The coast was clear.

Having propped up the delirious Dechaa against a wall, she sat a moment and thought.

She hadn’t at all forgotten about Essenta and the others; her first thoughts had simply been to protect herself and Dechaa and get situated. Both were presently clad in the apparent fashions of the town/city: a simple, light woolen dress; it was quite comfortable and wicked sweat as well as anything.

Other than the fact she had a feverish unicorn along with her, she’d not be out of place. But this depended on the size of the city; in a place like “Last Chance” a criminal could hide for a lifetime… in some little village there were no secrets. It was unclear to her what sort of place this was or how big it was; she’d only seen a few alleyways as she plotted her movements.

What she had let slip from her mind was her means of communication; she and Dechaa were in the confines of the jungle… and the others were as well. They hadn’t left the physical realm of the barrier.

Cursing her cognizance, Delia realized a good 20 minutes had passed since she’d found herself face-up in some alleyway.

She’d even handled the stone; she’d sewn it into the collar of the dress she’d swiped. Had it been alerting her? She'd barely paid it mind, caught up in her own game.

Bracing Dechaa—who’d begun to slump over—Delia cocked her head towards her shoulder, “Uh… Can anypony hear me?”

“Uh… Can anypony hear me?”

Wilka, bounding around the understory of the forest, yipped, nearly dropping the “talk-rock” she held between her teeth.

Ama—who’d met up with Wilka not minutes before—halted her run on the forest floor, “What is it, Wilka?!”

Landing next to Ama Wilka dropped the stone to her upturned hoof; she cried, “Delia?!”

Ama couldn’t believe it either, “Delia?!”

Delia’s voice came through, sounding much calmer than the other two felt, “Ama? Where’d you come from?”

Ama spoke into the stone, “I have come into the forest to aid Zyra and Loress… and you.”

The two mares in the forest were treated to a bit of nervous humor, “Well, that’s dandy, because shit’s weird on my side of the rock… How’s Zyra doing?”

Ama sighed, “I am unsure; she is back with Loress. Wilka came to the barrier’s border to contact the three of us on the jungle’s border. Essenta and Orni are back at camp.”

Wilka spouted, “Is Dechaa okay?!”

Delia wanted to say she was, “She’s alive… doesn’t seem hurt; she had a seizure, though, with whatever it is that’s bugging the unicorns. I clocked her out… she wouldn’t quit teleporting; she pulled me on one motherfucking Hell-of-a ride, though. I was sure I'd died and gone to Heaven... or maybe Hell... I think she took us through Limbo…!”

Limbo? Ama mouthed to Wilka.

Wilka stated a-matter-of-factly, “It’s said to be a place between life and death… or Heaven and Hell; it depends on who you ask…”

Ama let it pass, “Where are you?”

Delia’s voice came unsure, “I… dunno, really… but we’re still inside the barrier… and dig this: we’re in a city.”

Both Ama and Wilka were stunned; Ama asked, “A city?!”

“Well, looking around the little bit I have, it may be better called a town,” Delia observed. “Stone… bricks… wood… Yeah… a proper town. It’s not like Salvatrix is made of mud and straw.”

Ama was thinking; a town… “Have you seen any other ponies?”

“Uh… nope,” Delia quipped. “And I’m trying not to… until I figure things out. I’m looking for a safe place to stow Dechaa…”

Ama considered, “If you are alright then I am less worried; you know what you are doing, after all.”

“Yeah,” Delia said in a half-giggle. “I know my way around a city…”

“Be cautious,” Ama advised. “It may be best for you to maintain silence until you have situated yourself… and Dechaa.”

“Don’t I know it…” Delia replied. “You far from Zyra and Loress?”

Wilka spoke, “No… just a short distance up; we’re well within the barrier.”

“Send me a ‘silent’ message once the four of you have met up,” Delia directed. “Tap on the stone four times to the rhythm of ‘never say die’—just like that; I’ll know the four of you are together. I’ll reply with the same.”

“Why ‘never say die’?” Wilka wondered.

“Just do it.”

Ama was much more confident than she had been while ‘schooling’ Essenta; she said, “We understand. Stay safe. We will aid Zyra and Loress if need be. We will try to maintain silence on our end; it would be inopportune if your pocket ‘spoke’. If we need to contact you, we will tap repeatedly. Otherwise, contact us when you see fit.”

“Will do… Out.” Delia cut off.

Wilka felt some relief, “So, we’ll be okay?”

Ama was cautiously optimistic but she realized she’d never made any promises… to Delia, about finding them or anything else; she was unable to bring herself to do so, “I do hope so… Let us go.”

Wilka nodded.

The two mares ran further into the jungle; it wasn’t far to their friends.

Author's Note

Check out the Appendix for Princess Essenta, updated as the story moves along. It shows the story's timeline and character designs. Contains spoilers.

So begins the "Wicked World" Arc.

I had some "technical difficulties" with this chapter, in that I totally erased it by accident, having written it some time ago and just finished editing a few days ago. It was frustrating but I had to re-write from memory. I think my frustration is more apparent in the new version than I like, but whatever. Some parts are better served than they were with the first version.

With Delia and Dechaa kind of safe, Ama has been given authority to do and command as she sees fit, with Loress at less than 100%.

Somewhere, in the country of Salvatrix, Delia is hauling around a temporarily-useless Dechaa, trying to figure out what the fuck she's to do about it. And in a stolen dress, no less!

And what of the "cry" those with magical perception have noticed more than just a little?

Things will see some clarity next time.

If you enjoy Princess Essenta, please take a look at Larkspur Blossom. A story of a colt finding his worth and making a better life for himself.

Also look for The Virgin Company. A tale of a military pony and his platoon in a war centuries ago.

Like, follow, or leave a comment if you please. It's been fun writing and I'm glad some enjoy it.

Thanks for reading, and take care.

Chapter 44: Nuinhof

Wicked World Arc

“Here you go, dear,” a Pegasus waitress donning an outfit not at all unfamiliar to Delia was putting on a rather cheesy smile, setting her order on the table.

The former maid looked up from her mulling, “Thanks…”

The Pegasus was already on her way again.

Delia, having picked a couple pockets, sat in the town square pretending to enjoy—but not needing to pretend—a slice of wildberry pie she’d ordered from the bakery she’d found. It was the first decent baked treat she’d had in a few weeks… She was hungry, sure, but saw no reason not to get something nice.

In the four hours since landing there, she’d learned a few things about the city to which Dechaa had suffered—chauffeured—them. Nuinhof was its name and its population sat at about 3,000 ponies. Most residents were Earth ponies, but she saw some unicorns and even fewer Pegasi.

Chewing on the crusty goodness she peered around; she wasn’t overly worried about blending in—not in a city of 3,000—and indeed looked the part of some normal Nuinhof mare, in her stolen dress. And she was confident using the term “city” as opposed to “town”; if a place is large enough that not everypony knows each other, that’s “city” enough.

Though the girls hadn’t lost track of time, spending more than three weeks in the southern wilderness, none of them were keeping terribly close accounts. It was Sunday and considering the activity Delia thought herself fortunate she’d been able to lay low—especially in the afternoon—and safely stow Dechaa away.

It was clear the sugarcane harvest had wrapped up and nopony was apparently working so Delia thought little of leaving their nervous healer in a toolshed whilst she scoped things out. Delia knew southern flora and was beginning to regret slipping Dechaa something to help her sleep… or rather, keep her quiet; it was bad enough Dechaa had messed herself after coming down from a seizure but now she might simply void in her sleep and wake up to a soggy dress. It sucked but Delia had to keep Dechaa out of sight and as safe as possible.

The ponies in Nuinhof were guarded, even from their neighbors, it appeared; something was definitely off, and it didn’t take a unicorn or anypony with actual perception to notice.

And speaking of unicorns, those she saw looked miserable. It was strongly suspected this had something to do with the terrible vibes that didn’t currently appear to be whipping around.

Sipping on a tasty milk-tea, the former floor-scrubber envisioned the jungle and New Salvatrix in her mind. She knew the maps in the mayor’s office—damn-near from memory— that had burned along with the mayoral mansion in “Last Chance” the month before; even so, she yet had no idea where they were within the confines of Salvatrix.

Leaning back in her chair, watching ponies in the market purchase goods for their dinner, Delia pondered. She could break into the mayor’s office there—there were almost certainly maps there—or try to eke out the location from somepony.

Yawning, Delia recalled her last contact with the girls. Ama and Wilka had made it back to Zyra and Loress just fine, evident by the signal they’d set up. With that security in mind she was able to look for a “safehouse” for Dechaa. Upon finding a spot for Dechaa she verbally contacted the girls. She was happy to hear whatever was bugging the unicorns hadn’t started up again; she hadn’t expected it, considering they’d set up a separate signal for such trouble.

Regardless, every hour they’d been tapping “never say die” to one another and knew things were about as peachy as could be.

Finishing the pie and downing the last of the tea Delia stood up. The sun, which would begin setting in about an hour was difficult to ignore. However, Nuinhof even had streetlights that ran off gas, so she at least wouldn’t be without light.

The reason night was a concern was Ama had decided to rest for the night in the spot from which Dechaa had pulled Delia away. Zyra was sick—though in better shape than their healer, whom Delia was on the way to retrieve—and Loress was feeling a bit on edge.

Paddling along, Delia knew things were serious if Essenta had tasked Ama with getting the six of them out of the forest… or those she could. She didn’t at all blame Ama and the princess for this setup… and the possibility of leaving her and Dechaa behind; things were crazy. But Delia was glad to say Essenta and Orni knew Dechaa and herself were at least “safe”. Ama, with reluctance, sent Wilka to the barrier a couple times to convey what was going on in the supposed “magic bubble”.

But with dusk approaching the four in the forest would bed down for the night. Essenta and Orni were cut off but the princess had still encouraged Ama to do as she saw fit. And Ama saw fit to seek out their two lost foals in a city yet in a place unknown.

Part of Delia’s task was figuring out where they were, enabling the others to better locate the city. It sounded difficult, but it was easy enough to determine direction; the girls had a compass after all and there were landmarks aplenty in the jungle. Delia had determined she’d “find her way” into the city’s records or one of the offices and find a few good maps.

With just a little more clarity amongst the divided company finding one another again was feasible and they’d try to do so. It pained Delia to know Ama had knocked the harshest kind of sense into Essenta… entailing the six others “abandoning” her and their healer if need be. Again, Delia felt no hard feelings about the possibility; it hurt, certainly, but no blame could be assigned.

She would never expect her new friends to die for her sake—not because they wouldn’t but because she didn’t want them to do so.

By the time she reached the shed in which she’d left Dechaa it was quite dusky. Opening the doors and entering she found Dechaa dozing peacefully; the sleep powder had worked about as well as was possible.

“Oh, good… I got here in time,” Delia sighed to herself.

Dechaa hadn’t gotten sick again or soiled herself so Delia took her outside and encouraged the healer to relieve herself; she felt as if she was enabling some old dog to keep living a little longer… one ready to be put down but nopony having the balls to see the task through. After that, she sat Dechaa down and gave her some water.

Dechaa, kind of asleep but pliable enough, could even walk on her own… to a degree. Delia had money and means but had decided against staying at the inn. With whatever was going on, ponies weren’t traveling much and even with what little she’d learned about the city, those passing through were highly suspect of some vague and terrible thing.

Delia had simply found a better shed in which to house her friend, close to the city’s government buildings. It would be easier to work from there whilst she plotted how to meet up with everypony again.

Leading Dechaa out from the yard, Delia peered around. Ponies were walking quietly and generally trying to avoid one another. Other than families and obvious close friends, ponies seemed positively repelled by others. Cursing her hungry stomach and her careless manner, “blending in” did not include being friendly and ordering pie; nopony else was doing it but she still felt secure enough.

Slinging one of Dechaa’s legs over her shoulder, she began to plod to the next hiding spot. She’d seen more than a couple drunk ponies so appearing to help one along wasn’t out of the question. Other ponies were around, and they minded their business; she elected to do the same.

About halfway to the city’s headquarters Delia heard a chuckle.

“Not from around here, are you, dearie?”

Delia had a cooler head than most, especially when it came to sneaking around; she wasn’t alarmed, though maybe she’d blown her cover.

Glancing to the side, she beheld an ancient unicorn mare grinning at her; the mare looked as if she’d been around since Old Salvatrix.

There were a thousand things Delia could’ve said; seeing the unicorn’s incredible smile she settled on being a smartass, “My, my… Are those your real teeth?”

The old mare, sitting against a wall up on the sidewalk, stomped her hooves in a clatter, giggling, “They sure are, young’un… Take care of yourself and they’ll last a lifetime…”

“I’ll remember that…” Delia turned away and plodded… Just some old-timer…

“You need help, don’t you, Miss?” Delia presently heard the old mare paddling up along behind her.

Delia answered coolly, not stopping, “Nah… Just dragging my neighbor home… too much to drink on her day off…”

“Enough games… Show me the underside of your front hoof, why don’t you?” came the other’s voice.

Delia started at that but didn’t jump; glancing back, still walking… she saw the mare with her own hoof raised.

Branded upon the bottom of her hoof was an unmistakable “L”.

Delia almost dropped Dechaa; turning around, she breathed, “Lanzo…?!”

The old mare wasn’t smiling anymore, “Yes…”

Delia raised her own hoof, showing the “M”, “There’s no way I couldn’t recognize it…”

Showing genuine alarm, the elderly one blanched, “Melchior?!”

Delia nodded; something told her to stay quiet about some of the details… for the time, “I was a maid… and I was skilled in areas needing expertise. That and the fact my father was alive saved me from the fate most with the hoof-brand see.”

The old unicorn sighed, “With a stallion such as Melchior you were most fortunate in your lot… avoiding that. You might say I had a more ‘traditional’ life with bearing such a mark… I was 20 when I escaped… It’s been a full 70 years since then… It’s been 59—come spring—that Lanzo and his ilk were run from Penmaenbach. I’d made a life here, though… a better one… so I stayed.”

Delia set down Dechaa and faced the approaching mare, “Penmaenbach… It’s little wonder they call the place “Last Chance” City…”

Returning Delia’s smile, the old one simpered, “It’s had that moniker for as long as I remember.”

“I don’t think half the ponies that make their way through know the real name.”

The old mare began to walk, “We can discuss this further, if you like. I’d fully understand if you chose to not trust me, but if the mark on my hoof is enough… then follow me. You’d be safe with me.”

Delia eyed her; she wondered what gave her away as a slave…

“And if that’s not enough, you and your friends—nearer and farther—would find it in your best interest to leave Salvatrix… tomorrow if possible.”

Delia jolted; the old mare knew something, “How…?”

The old mare’s horn sparked; she smiled, “Please call me Cassia… Delia.”

Delia figured it out.

Another psychic…?! Fuck…

Essenta and Orni observed the coming night. They’d spent some of the day in sight of the wagon, gathering the few foodstuffs still available; there wasn’t much but they’d managed dinner.

To stay off the worry surrounding their current circumstances the two processed the remaining starch they saw come through their stock; they had more than enough flour to see them to “Last Chance” City. Their greater concern—with their food supply—was with the fresh fruit. Much of it wouldn’t be good more than a few days so they reluctantly began to dry out the ripest of the fruit.

Hearing Dechaa and Delia were in communication gave the princess the greatest relief she could recall in recent times. Realizing the depth of her responsibility—after all that playing around—had really been quite devastating. Sure, they seemed to spend about as much time in danger as they did out of it but a lot of it never felt real.

“Essenta,” Orni had packed away what food they could; she offered Essenta some tea.

“Thanks, Orni,” Essenta exhaled; she took a sip.

It was delicious! She took another sip.

Orni giggled at Essenta’s enjoyment, “I put some of that honey we found in the orange tea Delia slapped together.”

Essenta recalled just how pissed off the bees were when Loress accidentally busted open their hive; a “normal” mare might’ve succumbed to the venom, seeing she suffered several hundred stings before escaping.

They’d been able to laugh about that… just as they had all run from it, screaming like little fillies back to the savanna, when Loress led them into their midst. Even after the betrayal in the desert it could be said things were looking up… And then the current day just had to happen…

Orni, noticing Essenta in thought, put a hoof on her shoulder, “I’m… sorry I fell apart on you…”

Essenta patted the offered hoof, “There’s no reason to apologize… This… threw us all for a loop, Orni. Ama… I don’t know what I’d do without her.”

Orni tried to not laugh; she had some ideas, “I try not to think about it much…”

Essenta morosely continued with her tea.

Orni replied to her silence, “I think… it was the right call, giving Ama the reigns out there. Loress… has a lot of knowledge but a stouter heart is needed right now.”

“I know…” Essenta smacked her lips at the sticky sweetness. “I just can’t help but think of how long this might take…”

Orni shuffled her hooves, “Don’t fret over that. We’ll just keep doing what we can. If we have to dry out the rest of the fruit… then so be it.”

Essenta laughed a little at that, recognizing Orni’s latest sentence to be a half-joke, “If fresh fruit was the greatest of our worries… I’d feel blessed.”

Orni kneaded Essenta’s shoulder, “Try not to worry… Delia’s smart. I’d rather that nopony got pulled on Dechaa’s surge—including Dechaa—but the right one went; she’ll figure things out and Ama will be able to find them.”

Essenta hated giving into high optimism but was sure Ama was up to the task, “Yeah… What I don’t get is how Dechaa pulled them that far—I don’t know how far they went—when she’s barely able to teleport as far as the eye can see…”

Orni—seeing Essenta musing more than anything—had more immediate concerns, “I’m glad I slept well last night; it’s gonna be rough, just the two of us.”

Essenta nodded, “And the first night we’ve been without our ‘unicorn security’, too. I’m feeling a little exposed.”

Orni dug around in their generously restocked medicine bag, “Well, we got plenty of this.”

Essenta grimaced at the bag Orni hoofed her, “Oh, that coca leaf gives me such a headache once it wears off.”

“Would you rather chew on the roasted coffee beans… or grind them up and eat them that way?” Orni was referring to the fact they had no fire and thus no means to make fresh coffee, another of the goodies found in the jungle, which they’d been enjoying very much the last week.

Essenta reluctantly took a wad of leaf, gagging at the idea, “No… I’ll get started on this cheekful… I’ll take first watch tonight and I’ll wake you in a few hours.”

Leaving Dechaa safely in Cassia’s home near the edge of the city, Delia and Cassia made a quick run to the market before it closed at sunset. Delia had offered to make dinner for them and wished to get a few supplies to make their journey back across the desert easier; their cooking, while passable, had grown awfully bland in the absence of their once-abundant spices.

Delia quietly recalled there’d be a slight spice shortage—and a sugar shortage, too—in “Last Chance” as they’d seen nothing from the south for more than seven months. The only reason prices hadn’t skyrocketed and there was enough was the supplementary supply from the coasts, though the winter’s arrival would see the supply soon plummet. The entire southern continent, actually, would suffer a lack of sugar and spice very soon.

She was sure the obscene prices of spices and other goods was indicative of whatever the Hell was going on but as with most things related to that she was biding her time in pondering or discussing them.

She knew Cassia could read her mind if she wanted, but she did what she could to feel out the old mare regardless.

Delia had already vetted the old mare in her mind, heart, and guts; the more visceral part of her—the part that had been a slave for a decade—never once doubted Cassia. It was a bond only such ponies could grasp. She knew Cassia meant no harm and was set on helping her. Why, though? Well, that was the “feeling out” part.

Convincing her friends was another matter; she’d been sending “all’s well” through the stone every hour since their last verbal communication. If any one of her friends came up with some old mare and said she was the answer to their prayers, Delia would perhaps be the first to admit she was skeptical.

“What kind of name is Cassia?” Delia cocked her head as they paddled along.

The old unicorn mare chuckled, “Come now… you’ve never heard the name? It may be old-fashioned to a filly like you, but I’ve certainly heard of your name…”

Delia snickered, “I think a fifth of the fillies in my town were named Delia, or some bastardization of it…”

“I had a cousin named Delia…”

Delia wondered, “You knew my name… how is it you didn’t know Melchior was my master?”

Cassia hummed, “For the same reason you think; I wasn’t trying to see it, dear. I realized you’d been a slave, though; it’s often apparent. When I run across a pony that has had such a life… I leave it to them. My gift is a curse more than anything… Though—I beg you forgive me for asking—how did you escape Melchior?”

Delia figured she might as well spill, “I didn’t escape… and Melchior sure as Hell didn’t set me free. His son did; he also set my oldest friend free.”

“Pallo?! I’ve heard he’s quite the brat… So, his father retired early…”

Delia snickered; her new acquaintance wasn’t poking around too much in her mind at all, “You could say that… but he won’t be around to enjoy life all that much.”

“The stallion passed?”

Taking more delight than she may have liked, Delia told her, “He and the mayor got killed last month.”

Cassia looked stunned, “How?”

“…Dragon.”

The old mare may have laughed or been shocked but reacted rather blithely to the news, “Well… that’s not something that happens every day…”

Delia giggled and was soon joined by Cassia. Laughter, though nopony else heard it, was something that had been scarce in Nuinhof.

And not once had they approached the topic of what Delia was doing there or her friends or the nasty magic barrier surrounding the country or the fucked up “cry for help” or whatever it was that had sent the unicorns to seizure-town.

Loress was divvying out food amongst the four in the jungle, “I’m glad you brought plenty of bread, Ama… There’s nothing nearby to eat but these tiny tangerine-looking things.”

Ama patted Loress’s shoulder, “When you said to bring a day’s worth, I thought it better to bring two.”

Wilka was already digging in; it took some energy to fly in the humid heat, “I can’t get enough of the cashew bread…”

Ama chided her, “Well, do not eat all of it; that is to be our breakfast… and I am anticipating at least the length of a day out here…”

Ama may have given Wilka a mild scolding but she was about as happy as the situation allowed. Other than Zyra being out of it, Dechaa and Delia “lost”, and night upon them without magical protection, things were peachy. Wilka, nearly inconsolable a few hours earlier, had calmed down and Loress was feeling closer to normal.

With Zyra out, their only light was a gas lantern Ama had grabbed. They didn’t like possibly alerting anypony or anything else of their being there, but it was dark. They could feel the inky blackness surrounding them.

Regarding the temporary shift in leadership Essenta had requested, Loress never thought all that much about the position she held and was fine with it. She viewed her own skills as such to be inconsistent at the very best and knew Ama to be the rock within their little party. Ama wasn’t as worldly but that’s not what they needed at the time; they needed somepony to lead them out of the jungle.

The Terran took it upon herself to feed Zyra; much like Dechaa’s state she was in a world between asleep and awake, malleable but functional enough, “This is a sadly familiar thing…”

Ama tried to sluff off Loress’s manner; the Terran had been rather dreary the whole afternoon, now well into the night. She knew Loress was referring to the 10 or so days of misery they’d endured after the night raid east of Renata. That night and everything leading up to Zyra coming back to them were best left not forgotten, but less dwelled upon.

What had been 10 days of gloominess and waiting for the rest of them had been the same 10 days and then more than 40 days of sadness mingled with helplessness and terror for Ama… with only moments of solace at the end of it.

And just because Ama chose to not “lord it above” anypony else it very occasionally had her frustrated the others weren’t more sympathetic to what she had been through. She simply wasn’t the kind of mare to hold it against them and would never wish such a thing upon others.

Ama felt tapping on the stone in the collar of her tunic. It gave her a bit of a start; Delia had only checked in a half-hour earlier. Not only that, the message wasn’t “never say die”—meaning “all is well, just checking in with my girls”—but a rapid tap—meaning “we need to talk, now”.

It got the attention of Loress and Wilka too; the two mares huddled up to Ama; Ama cocked her head for her voice to better reach, “Delia?”

“Yes, Ama…” Delia’s voice came calm, unlike the fast tap.

Ama was nonplussed at the casual answer, “…Are you well?”

The mares could almost hear Delia’s developing trepidation; she answered, “I’m fine… and so’s Dechaa.”

Ama was a bit befuddled; something was up.

Loress hoofed Ama’s shoulder; she spoke, “We see… Who’s there with you?”

Ama and Wilka jumped at that, but Loress stood easily.

They heard Delia chuckle humorlessly, “Oh, yes, you are rather sharp, aren’t you?”

Ama and Wilka were confused. What the fuck was going on?

Loress huffed, “I’m in no mood for games, Delia… my head hurts. Now… one more crack and I’m tying you in a knot the next time I see you.”

The mares standing beside her were occasionally cowed by Loress’s clout; Ama thought it most impressive but Wilka was just terrified by it most of the time. Delia had made one small jibe and Loress was ready to pull her ovaries out through her mouth over it.

They could visualize Delia backpedaling, “Okay… Listen, I’m sorry. I’m just contacting you with some good news and I wasn’t going to do anything else than send you the ‘all’s well’ sign until I had something to share.”

“Good news? And what would that be?” Ama wondered.

“Well…” Delia mused. “I think I found the solution to our problems… but you’ll have to hear me out.”

Author's Note

Check out the Appendix for Princess Essenta, updated as the story moves along. It shows the story's timeline and character designs. Contains spoilers.

Hey, dig this: Princess just broke 200,000 words!

With the little company split into three groups, bedding down for the night, Delia will learn about the recent history of the country in which the girls find themselves. Just how did things wind up the way they are?

A portion of the next chapter will be exposition-heavy, but a little exposition saves a lot of dialogue.

If you enjoy Princess Essenta, please take a look at Larkspur Blossom. A story of a colt finding his worth and making a better life for himself.

Also look for The Virgin Company. A tale of a military pony and his platoon in a war centuries ago.

Like, follow, or leave a comment if you please. It's been fun writing and I'm glad some enjoy it.

Thanks for reading, and take care.

Chapter 45: A Plague of Terror

Wicked World Arc

“Well…” Delia mused. “I think I found the solution to our problems… but you’ll have to hear me out.”

The mares in the jungle, their scene lit by a gas lantern, considered the words they perceived from the “talk-rock”. Delia had made an attempt at a joke, but something seemed remarkably wrong; they hadn’t known Delia all that long but something in her voice alarmed them.

Ama looked to Loress and Wilka; she stated, “Very well… Explain yourself.”

One hour earlier…

In a little kitchen lit by candles an 18-year-old beauty had prepared a little something for a mare that was once remarkably beautiful at some point in history.

Delia set a pot of curry on the table for her gracious host, “And… here we go.”

Cassia’s eyes lit up, “Oh, vegetable curry! I haven’t had this in years.”

Delia dished up some fluffy rice, covering it with the spicy goodness, “Oh, yeah… Carrots, onions, potatoes, three kinds of peppers, chickpeas, just a little tomato… in a nice, sweet coconut milk.”

“My son-in-law—of all ponies—made quite a good curry…” Cassia eyed the earthy-colored dish with anticipation.

“You never said you had a daughter, Cassia,” Delia took back the vessel for herself.

“I have three daughters, eight grandchildren, and six great-grandchildren…” the unicorn smiled sadly. “But they’ve moved away over the years, all of them north…”

“Family…” Delia saw the longing and sorrow in the other and she could relate to the feeling; she elected to treat it with love, “Well, I’d be honored to be such for the night.”

The former floor-scrubber hoofed the plate to the beaming Cassia; the old mare was touched, “Oh, thank you, dear…”

“You’re the one putting us up for the night; I should be thanking you,” Delia dished her own plate.

“Oh, it’s quite alright… What about your friend?” Cassia looked to the other unicorn, lolling against the wall, not fully conscious.

Delia figured, “She’ll be alright. I don’t want the medicine I gave her to wear off, so I’ll just lace some into and feed her some porridge later. She doesn’t like curry all that much but like Hell I’d give it to her now… this stuff has me running for the outhouse before long.”

Cassia laughed; it was nice to have a little “girl-talk”, “I suppose you’ve had your hooves full with her.”

Delia dug into the curry; it was the best thing she’d tasted in weeks, “I’ve managed… Are you sure it’s safe for us to stay here? It’s no trouble?”

Spooning her curry with the glow of her horn, Cassia replied, “I may just be some old nag whose magic is rapidly failing her, but I can still put up a barrier around my own home… Certainly not as impressive as the one surrounding the country…”

Delia’s clumsy hoofwork left her spoon falling into her dinner; she halted and looked to the ancient one.

“Yes, Delia…” Cassia returned the look. “I hate to spoil such a lovely meal—I can’t remember anything this good—but we have things to discuss… I think we’ve… ‘felt the other out’ adequately.”

Delia retrieved her spoon but soon gave up on manners; she was an Earth pony and sometimes one just had to eat like a horse.

Taking a messy bite, Delia nodded, “I’d say you’re right.”

“Not that I don’t enjoy having such a lovely filly around… The game just can’t last.”

Delia saw the hurt in Cassia; she had much in mind, though, “You said you have a barrier around your home… Magic?”

Cassia nodded, “Yes, it keeps magic out… but it lets sound in while keeping it in; it also alerts me of certain activities in town.”

“The best of both worlds, eh? There’s a reason you didn’t want me on the streets at night, isn’t there?” Delia managed to still enjoy the curry she’d made.

“Yes… I’d been keeping an eye on you ever since you and your friend fell out of the sky; you’re fortunate her accidental teleportation found you at eye-level. I’m glad to say I was the only one to notice… and that nopony else realized it.”

Delia realized there really was something wrong in Nuinhof—perhaps the whole country—but it could wait, “Well, if you haven’t learned it already, her name’s Dechaa… She’s our group’s physician, I guess. She’s a healer and an apothecary, though more skilled in the ways of the northerners than is fully useful down here.”

Cassia glanced to Dechaa, “She’s also more than adept in the ways of empathy; I’ve never seen a unicorn that wasn’t a full psychic with such perception… even more so than many that are gifted in the magic of manipulating minds, really.”

Delia nodded, “I can see that…”

“Any unicorn can read a mind, Delia; it’s simply a matter of learning how. But for a psychic… it just comes naturally and there’s no substitute for that… and empathy isn’t something one can just culture so easily.”

Delia was mulling, “Would your barrier keep out that horrible whatever-the-Hell-it-is that had Dechaa throwing a fit… and our mage fainting?”

Cassia said, “Yes, it would keep it out. I did it for me…”

Delia continued eating, “I’ll bring her around in a while then; she won’t be happy I kept her in a stupor half the day, but it was better than the misery she pulled me on earlier.”

“I’m sure it was.”

Delia thought; she saw no reason to dick around, “There are eight of us, Cassia. Dechaa and I teleported here from the jungle when she had a seizure; I tried to stop her—knock out her flow of magic—but couldn’t until after she brought us here. Four of our party… including our other unicorn are out where I left them. Our leader… and our youngest—not the weakest but not particularly skilled in the ways of our current needs—are on the bordering savanna, waiting.”

Cassia mixed curry with rice, “I see…”

“You know what they’re saying about Salvatrix, don’t you… up north?” Delia wondered.

“Other than what I’ve gathered from you, no…”

“Plague,” Delia took a drink of water. “The whole world thinks the plague blew up in a way not seen since the fall of Old Salvatrix… And the fact not a single pony has been known to come back north, it’s believable. The explorers… the opportunists… so many… I lived in “Last Chance”, after all; I saw them all go… and none come back.”

“‘None’?” Cassia considered. “Something tells me that’s not exactly accurate.”

“You’d be right, Cassia…” Delia was still angry about it. “It’s almost been a couple weeks… We found a Pegasus stallion named Hagano about 100 miles out of Salvatrix… It turns out he was a pirate turned slaver; he said they had a few fillies with a proper hoof-brand. They sold more than 20 of them to the Surf Guild... those that survived the desert.

“Once they’d made their sale, Hagano’s crew spent just about the entire spring and summer with the guild, enjoying the fillies and the loot they stole from the old kingdom. But once they tried to leave… they had trouble. Hagano said this one village was a little too friendly compared to what they’d seen. They got the nine pirates drunk… and one-by-one they disappeared.

“Hagano, though, kept in touch with his higher functions and when they tried putting him in chains—I suspect to put him to work somewhere—he escaped. He was weak from the humidity and heat, but he made it into the desert. I don’t think the cocksucker knew a thing about surviving and he ran out of food and water after only four days and 100 miles… a Pegasus, even!”

Cassia sipped on wine; it was already known between the two Delia didn’t imbibe, “And that’s where you found him.”

Delia sighed, “Sure enough… We nursed him back to health and what we heard once he was back among the living shook us up—what he’d been up to and what he’d seen—and we had second thoughts about our traveling any further.”

“You and your friends—whom I’ve never met—don’t seem to be treasure-hunters or adventurers,” Cassia was scooping up a second plate. “But I take it you had some reason to be down here.”

“You could ask or read my thoughts, but you might find it hard to fathom, why,” Delia gave a half-smile.

“But I don’t really care,” Cassia waved a hoof. “Go on.”

“Hagano stole our supplies when we cut him loose,” Delia said. “We let him go a few hours before we would head back across the desert and he switched our food-bag with the one we’d made for him. It wouldn’t surprise me if he made the city in four or five days.”

Cassia smirked, “A clever fellow…”

Delia grimaced, “Most clever… But we pulled ourselves together and made it here. All the flora and stuff in the forest made it easy to replenish our supplies—that motherfucker left us with two meals each… 100 miles out! Things were fine enough until we found that barrier in the jungle. It was during our second forage past the barrier that ‘cry in the wilderness’ set off the unicorns.”

Cassia’s withered lips tightened, “Every unicorn’s been suffering that…”

Delia wanted to know, “What is it? That ‘cry’?”

Cassia looked distressed, “There’s a lot to say but I’ll tell you the short of it for the moment: a family was made an example of.”

Delia felt her stomach clench; she had even more questions but stayed on topic, “They were tortured?”

“In ways I hope you cannot imagine, though I’m sure you can… You’re not a bad sort, Delia; I’m sure you’ve not lived a blameless life, but you’ve had one Hell-of-a life. I would hesitate to tell many—such as your friend over there—but you’re rough enough to share this with. On the other hoof, I won’t tell you everything; you cannot help matters and putting words to it is more than I wish to bear.

“I can tell you… but it would be wise to keep a lid on it. I can easily help you and your friends back to the desert—especially with that stone you keep tapping on—but they will not easily take the truth.”

Delia pushed her almost-empty plate away; she was hard-boiled alongside most mares but had lost her appetite, “Other than one of the mares—and that’s just possibly—you’re cocksure right about that. I won’t tell them much, but they know something’s wrong down here… Hagano said there was no plague but Salvatrix was sick with fear…”

The old mare chuckled humorlessly, “A plague of terror is how I view it… What he said was not at all inaccurate.”

“I’ll keep the worst of this place away from the girls but there may be no hiding that family’s suffering… We have a couple girls… who possess different sorts of magic; one’s already perceived it too.”

Cassia shook her head sadly, “They suffer no longer, Delia; they’re gone…”

Delia felt the tiniest bit of relief, though she still managed to push it out of mind, “I see… Well… unless I pull her out now, Dechaa’s gonna be in la-la-land a few more hours, so…”

Cassia had finished her second helping, “Let us clean up quickly… Then I will tell you all I can.”

For 100 years Salvatrix had flourished. Normally when rainforest is converted to farmland it turns to dreck… Salvatrix was different, thanks in no small part to the magic of the Earth ponies.

The colony started small as an endeavor by the wealthy Kastor family in hopes of establishing both production land and a reliable trade route for spices and sugar from the south.

What started small, grew. The Kastors—an old unicorn family—empowered the noble Baishan family and turned over the governing of the expanding colony; the Baishan family named the “renewed” country Salvatrix, as it had been known in the past. An Earth pony family, the Baishans were notable as one of two Earth pony families governing sovereign nations.

A few generations of unicorns marrying into the family quickly—and apparently—did away with Earth pony heredity but the Baishans remained in power. The decades saw expansion into the jungle and the growth in the south caused the checkpoint Penmaenback to flourish, as the last chance of refuge for those heading into the desert and the first taste of relief upon heading out. As such cities often did its underbelly grew as its more legitimate purposes did.

But that’s another gripe for another day.

The current trouble began in 4778. And it wasn’t some foreign invasion or outbreak of disease but the efforts of a small-time noble and the son of a poor farmer; they began something potentially good that others turned to something very, very ugly.

Remi Anthelm was a Pegasus of nobility, though of lower status than many. The youngest son of a long line of military stallions and regal ladies of the court, Anthelm broke tradition, shirking a military career—as his brothers certainly didn’t—and took up interest in soft commodities. His primary interest was sugar, but he took interest in any plant that could produce food and make money.

He was revered among the large sugarcane growers but less liked by the small growers and the ones that actually had to do the farming part. His work in the other food crops gained him popularity with the military. His family, at first disappointed with his choice of career, knew him to be more studious and less adept physically and soon supported his decision. He did more for the military in cheaply and effectively feeding them than he ever might have done as a soldier; his family knew that was nothing to shun.

Everypony had enough upon which to live and that was more than many could claim. And much of the credit was given to Anthelm.

In 4778 a reformer rose up amongst the small farmers and workers. Housa Kallisto was a Pegasus farm laborer with what many saw as near-supernatural charisma. He was also a troublemaker in the eyes of those interested in keeping things running cheaply, demanding better wages for laborers, their families, and an easier time for the small farmers. Those ideas always meant less money elsewhere.

Anthelm himself lived as a pauper. He ate simply, craved no entertainment other than an occasional book or recital, and lived in what the higher nobles scoffed as a shack. He was no laborer but often worked 16 hours a day advancing the military’s interests and funneled what money he didn’t need for his simple living to his family, always proud and strong but never prosperous.

He saw no issue with ponies “living as their stations allowed”. A laborer could scratch out a satisfactory living as he did, living off far more than he did.

This kind of thinking—some years before—cost him his marriage… and his children; his wife remarried one of his cousins and he was to see his colts and fillies only rarely. But many laboring families had families with children—Kallisto had a sickly wife and seven little ones—so the idea of living off so little with so much at stake didn’t hold water quite so well.

Things came to a rather anti-climactic head during a labor discussion in the Salvatrix Royal Forum of 4778. Kallisto had an audience with the king regarding his wishes and ideas. A more controversial area of his beliefs was that of the military scaling down significantly and more resources being poured into good farming practices and the small farmers and laborers themselves.

This didn’t sit well with Anthelm. Not a military stallion himself, and though Salvatrix had no real enemies externally he felt maintaining a powerful military would keep things that way. Salvatrix was isolated and while they had allies, hundreds of miles of desert separated the southern country from any of them.

The Royal Forum went well for Kallisto and his followers. The king listened to them and it was clear he’d taken what they said to heart. No small victory, Kallisto and his followers went to celebrate at a tavern.

The Royal Forum went rather poorly for Anthelm and those depending on him to keep their pockets well-lined and their soldiers happy. No small defeat, they went their separate ways. But while most of them retreated to their money and their comforts Anthelm went for a drink at a tavern, which was rare for him.

One drink turned to 10 and Anthelm was soon in the same territory as the reveling Kallisto. Before long the two realized the other was sitting down the bar from himself, Kallisto’s following having gone elsewhere.

One may think the two hated each other but that was far from true. They were much alike, both hard-working and uncompromising in working towards the best interests of those depending on them.

They also knew failing those depending on them could lead to ruin. Crusading could be a thankless life. But while Anthelm’s failure could lose him everything, Kallisto’s failure would never lose him one certain thing. And the thing Kallisto wouldn’t lose was the love of his family and followers.

Anthelm realized Kallisto was fighting for something worth a lot more than he was—"he” being himself and his cause to boot. Anthelm had fought—he hated to admit—for the approval of those that never really appreciated him for that beyond what he could do for them; it was a selfish and sad thing.

There, in that tavern, the two joined at a table and got so drunk it should’ve killed them both twice over and something nopony predicted would happen happened. Neither would ever compromise… so they swore an oath to cooperate… and do what was best for Salvatrix.

The alliance shocked everypony on both sides of the fence but while those in power shunned Anthelm—including his own family—the small farmers and laborers welcomed him as a friend. And he became their friend.

The 4779 growing season—and other facets of Salvatrix—saw many things come about. Noting the advances in irrigation employed by the growers in “Last Chance” City, Anthelm and Kallisto saw these employed where applicable in the southern country. New tilling practices were implemented in multiple crops. Better management practices took hold all over.

And that year saw the greatest harvest in four decades. Money poured in from their exports and the nobility, at first mocking the idea of the two Pegasi cooperating, were stunned into silence. Anthelm supplied the skull-sweat and Kallisto was the face of it all.

And to top it off it cost virtually no more than any previous season had to employ the new practices. It really was just better management of resources that led to such a thing.

The year had been good for Anthelm. He moved away from the capitol, found something truly worth fighting for, made his first real friend in Kallisto, and even fell in love with the widowed sister of a farmer he’d aided.

The king and some of his court were sold on the alliance of Anthelm and Kallisto… but many of the court weren’t. And the military least of all. They saw what was coming.

4780 was another good year. Anthelm, with a few adopted children and a new filly born of his new wife in the summer, had an absolute ball doing the “dad thing” all over again. He made time for them as he worked and found he’d never been happier in his life. Kallisto saw his sickly wife improve and had a ball seeing his kids get on so well with Anthelm’s kids; they lived in the same town after all.

What the entire country saw coming—and what the military and some of the nobility had been dreading—would soon manifest. While the changes in the country’s farming practices had cost little, the actual reform would cost more. The military would see less favoritism and many pockets would see a lot less lining.

Anthelm believed in his heart—deeply and truly—that both the court and the military would support the things the king himself and many of the ponies of the country would embrace. And this was no folly: Remi Anthelm was a cynical fellow but viewed the changes as the closest thing to an absolute good mortal ponies would ever see. He knew inequality was unavoidable and indeed the natural thing; he also knew a pony didn’t need a lot of money and a big house to be truly prosperous.

But while Anthelm chose to look for the good in those less interested in their endeavors Kallisto saw trouble brewing. He chose to be wary.

The harvest of 4780, with Salvatrix’s farmers improving upon what they’d learned the year previous, saw the second greatest return in the country’s 100 year history.

This further solidified the coming shift of power. But while Anthelm and Kallisto had “power”—the support of the king, half the court, and most of the country’s ponies—the military had actual power in highly-trained and hardened, yet bored and inexperienced soldiers.

And Kallisto still saw trouble brewing; really, it was there. He recommended to the king—under great discretion—to activate emergency power over the military and dismiss or limit power of certain ponies within the military.

The king felt the same way as Anthelm and dismissed such ideas.

Eadwig Anthelm, Remi’s oldest brother, was both a knight of Salvatrix and a colonel in the army with prospects of becoming a general. He was also the biggest opponent of Kallisto once his younger brother had “jumped ship”, Remi having been a fierce yet decent opponent to the then-potential reform and those promoting it.

Sowing seeds of discontent among his faithful—most of the military and half the court—Eadwig Anthelm waited for his time to strike. And the time to strike came at the end of the year.

The annual Salvatrix Royal Ball saw the king announce the reforms planned for 4781: the long and short of it was—though not explicitly stated—the military would scale back and lose a substantial share of governing power. There was only so much money and with things improving for small farmers and laborers—not to mention the creation of a new division of the government to oversee agricultural matters—the military would suffer.

Allowing those opposing the reform to stew for a couple months, Eadwig Anthelm—having been promoted to general just days prior, allowing him to maneuver those under his station into position—overthrew the king one day in the early spring.

During what was meant to be a routine training exercise the army present in the capitol marched on the castle, imprisoned the king and his faithful, and took over.

“Just like that?” Delia had found her appetite again, chewing on a scone she’d bought at another bakery, the curry now gone.

Cassia had a scone of her own, “I gave you a rather simplified version… but that's what happened. Eadwig is as cunning as Remi is hardworking, so he’s very clever. Within an hour of declaring martial law they had the roads out of the country closed and the barrier up.”

“And how did they manage to put up the barrier?” Delia understood “moving pieces into place” could bring about a successful coup but the magic fucking barrier was another matter.

Cassia shook her head, “I wish I knew… Truly, I wish I knew. I have my suspicions… but no more than that.”

Delia wondered what they were and was about to ask but—

“There are magics within this country that are hard to imagine, Delia… Leave it at that.”

Delia would do so.

“Some of the military—those faithful to Eadwig Anthelm—flocked to him… The others… were less organized. Those away from the capitol had no idea what had happened and were far less than prepared. Many that didn’t swear loyalty died.”

“Even with the border closed there had to be some that tried to escape,” Delia said.

“Many tried… Many died… But many stayed; there is little more than desert for hundreds of miles. Where would they go?”

“It just doesn’t make sense how this would stay quiet…” Delia wondered aloud.

“You seem to misunderstand how quickly this came about, Delia. Eadwig had this planned for years… and he spent years enacting it. When the time came the country was changed in a matter of hours. Plus… there are more than closed roads and magical barriers and the army guarding the borders to keep ponies from leaving.”

Delia figured that had something to do with the family that was “made an example of”; she was trying to piece this together, “What about Anthelm and Kallisto?”

“The little farming village of Punt is about as far away from the capitol as you can get, Delia. The whole town are Pegasi, other than a couple of unicorns that were stationed there.”

Delia gulped, “So… they never stood a chance.”

Cassia shook her head, “Oh, no… Remi Anthelm, you may recall, came from a military family; he’s a trained soldier—it was all he knew as a young stallion. And Kallisto… was once a spy for Eadwig Anthelm; he left his service and changed his name when Eadwig called on him for an actual assassination. Remi was never much good at soldiering, but he could hold his own.

“Kallisto saw trouble coming—though he’d never anticipated such trouble—and had a plan of his own. The soldiers stationed in that town were there for one reason: to kill the younger Anthelm and Kallisto once the coup began.”

"Eadwid ordered his brother dead...?" Delia knew it made sense, but...

"After all that had happened there was little love lost, Delia."

Delia was on the edge of her seat, “And they fought the soldiers?”

Cassia almost looked proud, “Those two slaughtered them… Remi Anthelm wasn’t happy when he found out Kallisto had been working behind his back, but he wasn’t exactly ungrateful either. Before the army knew what hit them, the two took their families and townsponies and disappeared into the jungle. I hope their families are at least safe. I'm sure they've not escaped; the world would know the truth if they had.”

“They chose to fight? Just like that?” Delia was bewildered; running seemed the best option in any case.

Cassia shook her head still, “The minds of such stallions baffle me, Delia… but this is their country… They love it more than anypony.”

“What happened to them?”

Cassia shrugged, “Nothing, as far as I know. They’ve been harassing the army for six months… The soldiers that escaped capture or execution sought them out. I wouldn’t call it a civil war you’ve landed yourself in—there aren’t enough fighting in the name of the king to call them more than rebels—but that’s what it is.”

Delia sat in wonderment; this was certainly an unpleasant thing, “So… where do things stand?”

Cassia sighed, “In an effort to keep ponies in line many towns and cities have soldiers stationed… Nuinhoff isn’t all that important in the grand scheme so we don’t have soldiers here… What we have is worse.”

Delia’s stomach, in knots much of the night, clenched again, “And that’s why you pulled me in…”

“Yes, Delia,” Cassia nodded. “Many towns see their own citizens ‘keeping the peace’. We have a hoofful of stallions—who love power and money more than their own city and ponies—that maintain the law around here. The military gives them authority—and backing—and they love it… There are a couple dozen in town and most are unicorns... Occasionally actual soldiers show up to make their presence known.

“And to make matters worse, they have somepony we refer to as—as do the stallions themselves—as ‘the squealer’. Somepony—I don’t know who it is—keeps an eye on things; hidden, he or she manages to catch most everything that goes on. You notice ponies seem to be distrustful of others… ‘the squealer’ is no small part of why; it really could be anypony.”

“And you figured ‘the squealer’ would find me…” Delia pulled up her back legs and hugged them, looking to the fireplace.

“I’m astonished the little fucker didn’t find you. It has to be a unicorn… able to sense bursts of magic beyond what we’d use to levitate a spoon, for example. And the burst Dechaa put out… nearly had me shit my dress!”

“And that’s why you have your own barrier…” Delia looked around unable to see it.

“Indeed… among other things.”

“Well, I’m glad you found me…”

“You should be; being caught outside after curfew would be a possibly fatal thing. Even with your skills—which are formidable, I can tell—they’d have raped you and cut your throat, I imagine,” Cassia said informally.

Delia felt a pain across her neck at the thought; she felt ill, picturing it all, “So things really are bad…”

“Yes… they certainly are. The barrier keeps telepathy, magical signaling, and other magic in… and fear keeps ponies from going for the borders. I’m shocked all of you even made it in without detection.”

“What about all the ponies that disappear when they came down here?” Delia asked.

“Well, you mentioned your pirate friend… The new government conscripts ponies that wander into Salvatrix to work the fields… and just work… It’s slavery, pure and simple. Any citizen that crosses our new stratocracy—the bastards even rewrote our constitution—that they don’t kill suffer the same fate.”

She hated to ask but had to know; Delia summoned the courage, “The family… that was made an example of… What happened?”

At this, Cassia looked the most reluctant Delia had seen of her; she looked at the earnest little Earth pony, though, and groaned, “A few weeks ago… a nearby village saw some thieves come through—they’d been in Old Salvatrix, pilfering—and they were resting up before crossing the desert. Salvatrix is a big place, Delia. There are ponies out in the wilderness that have no idea what’s going on, I imagine… until they find themselves in civilization again.

“You said this Hagano escaped Salvatrix—he must’ve been the one. The village was to lull these stallions in and capture them. They got all but one. When our beloved ruler Eadwig Anthelm—yes, Delia, he’s the one in charge—heard they let a pony get away… he saw the town annihilated.”

Delia’s breath was gone; she choked on the water she’d been trying to sip to calm her nerves, “Gone…?”

Cassia’s eyes leaked, “Yes… gone… And to let ponies know the severity—and the cost—of what happened… Eadwig demanded an example be made in every community.”

Delia’s throat was tight, “So that’s it…”

Cassia breathed, “Yes… but those with hold were left to their devices. Many places—even those not under regular soldiers—saw floggings or food-rationing or seizure of property… but not ours… not ours…”

The former maid wasn’t sure if she wanted to hear more, but found the words coming from her mouth, “So they tortured a family… and killed them… just to make a point…”

“And they were very careful in selecting,” Cassia was crying now. “There was a family… with four foals. The second-youngest was a unicorn filly… with budding psychic powers… strong ones. They killed the rest of the family pretty quickly but took their time with that filly.

“A week… I can barely stand to think about the things they did to her. And then… they left her chained on the edge of town… for another week… no food or water… surrounded by her dead family. And the entire time, we felt her pain, Delia! She cried and screamed for relief… but nopony would give it to her… under the threat of the same…”

Delia was stunned into silence; she was in such disbelief she barely even considered the look she gave Cassia.

Cassia shied away, “Please! Don’t look at me that way, Delia! I’m old… My magic’s just about failed me… But I’m scared, too… Please don’t look at me that way; there’s nothing I could do…!”

Delia, somehow registering this, nodded, breathing quickly; she wasn’t even aware she was hyperventilating.

Cassia went on, “When she couldn’t cry anymore… she just kept on through her power, Delia! It got worse, our feeling it… Even the Earth ponies noticed, she was so powerful… It rained several days ago… a lot. I thought the exposure would’ve finished her, but she lived a few days longer, drinking from a mud puddle… But this afternoon… that was it… and they’ve left them all there to rot…!”

Seeing Cassia about to collapse, Delia bolted to catch her.

Looking into the younger mare’s dark-green eyes, Cassia gasped, “I can’t take it anymore, Delia! Everpony’s so… terrified… Nopony knows how to even act anymore!”

Delia embraced the old mare, feeling tears leak from her own eyes.

“I’ve lived too long…” Cassia croaked. “Damn this world… Everything… Damn it all to Hell…”

Delia wasn’t sure if the unicorn had fainted from exhaustion or just fallen asleep, but she conked out.

Somehow, Delia managed to pull Cassia to her bed; it wasn’t that she was heavy—she was all skin and bones—but Delia barely even felt in her own body.

Sitting back down at the table, Delia’s mind was running a race yet blank as a dead pony’s eyes. She looked to Dechaa; the healer was sleeping soundly and not in a drug-induced stupor anymore.

Fine… Delia would let her sleep; Dechaa was fortunate to not know the things she knew.

Delia wished she didn’t know the things she knew, but there was no forgetting it.

With the unicorns out—likely for the night—Delia looked around the tiny house. She found what she was looking for—maps; it wasn’t all that surprising Cassia would have such things. It wouldn’t take her long to find her bearings, she knew, spreading a few out on the table.

Sneaking to the door and barely pushing through the small barrier she tapped “all’s well” to the girls, though that was far from the truth; she received the same and that probably was true.

All she had to do was meet up with them and leave before anything else happened.

She had to come up with a plan.

Unable to come up with much of anything, she felt compelled to finish her scone, poring over the maps.

The baked treat tasted like ashes to her.

Author's Note

Check out the Appendix for Princess Essenta, updated as the story moves along. It shows the story's timeline and character designs. Contains spoilers.

Delia must now find a way to process all this... and see her new friends can escape the awful place into which they've found themselves.

The way is clear enough but as things often are with the little company things rarely end cleanly.

If you enjoy Princess Essenta, please take a look at Larkspur Blossom. A story of a colt finding his worth and making a better life for himself.

Also look for The Virgin Company. A tale of a military pony and his platoon in a war centuries ago.

Like, follow, or leave a comment if you please. It's been fun writing and I'm glad some enjoy it.

Thanks for reading, and take care.

Chapter 46: Hope of Departure

Wicked World Arc

It had taken some doing but Delia—having taken a leap of faith the others thought to be most reckless—convinced Ama and the rest in the jungle that Cassia would be able to help them. The old mare knew plenty and Delia shared a bond with her most of the mares couldn’t understand.

What had seemed daunting to the lot of them—finding the city—turned out to be little more than a hike through the jungle from the savanna. Nuinhoff was a decent-sized city, covering many acres of land and having no small abundance of farmland; had the girls widened their foraging attempts a couple of miles south they’d have found not only sugarcane fields but citrus orchards—in addition to other crops—not far into the forest.

The whole situation seemed briefly yet positively queer to the lot of them, but they were so elated, knowing only a few miles separated the lot of them, that they barely even thought about it.

Delia had found a mare they could trust—the lot of them concluded—and they’d be able to “rescue” Dechaa and Delia come morning. By afternoon they’d be with Essenta again and not long after that—barring the unicorns still being in sorry shape—they could take the wagon, loaded with fresh supplies, and be gone from the miserable jungle and all it entailed.

The desert would be another couple weeks of misery but less so without the humidity and whatever nightmare had ceased its calling out, creating distress for their magic perceivers, would be a thing of the past. They’d gotten used to the monkeys screaming and the birds chattering but they wouldn’t miss that either.

So, Ama, Loress, and Wilka would sleep well that night, with confidence for the next day; hopefully Zyra would be better in the morning. They had to wait for Delia’s word to move but they would know their way to Nuinhof. They even pondered how they’d celebrate their last night on the border of Salvatrix.

Delia had a lot to think about; she wouldn’t sleep much that night. Beyond determining their location she’d done little; she determined to wait until morning for Cassia’s input before an actual plan was concocted. What occupied her mind the most was keeping the worst of the knowledge she’d just recently acquired away from the senses of her friends.

A civil war… “unspeakable” things happening to some filly… a group of rape-happy stallions—who’d forsaken their neighbors and countryfolk for a life of wickedness —lording over the city…

Yes… Delia figured it best to circumvent all this, run through the jungle, and fuck off back across the desert as soon as possible.

It wasn’t their fight… or their concern, really. Delia had little confidence Hagano the pirate would or could adequately explain what had happened in Salvatrix; he knew so little, really.

But Delia would muster and let ponies know. Whether anypony could—or would—do anything about it was another story. She supposed she’d also have to let the other girls know just what was going on… once they were very, very clear of the country. All she had to do was ensure the girls got away before they realized just how wrong things were.

It wasn’t their fight and it wasn’t their concern, but Delia worried a few of the girls would get “foolish” ideas about the situation… the kind to get them sucked in and killed. But they’d been screwed over and humbled in the last few weeks. Before that they faced a dragon upon intervening in the world of “politics”. Then there was the night raid east of Renata—outside Delia’s experience, of course—and the misery that entailed.

Delia hoped the others to be wary of trouble—even if they did get wise, which she was praying against—and simply head north.

She could hope; it was all she could do.

She managed to doze a couple hours, but restful sleep was elusive.

Morning arrived after what seemed like an eternity. Delia felt like death warmed over. Cassia’s magic barrier had held unto sleep and all Delia had to keep her company were the quiet noises of the house and the two sleeping mares.

Dechaa would feel logy upon waking up, having been out of touch with her higher functions for about 18 hours. And she would have to piss like a horse. Delia was trying to come up with a way to assuage her freaking out upon waking; Dechaa would be confused.

Thankfully, though, her host woke up before Dechaa.

The old mare tottered to the kitchen table and sat down.

Delia—besides not sleeping much and going over and over again in her mind the awful shit she’d heard—had prepared a nice breakfast of eggs, hashbrowns, sweet-bread, and sliced mango.

The old mare gave Delia a thankful glance and tucked into the plate Delia offered. Delia sat as well and tried to eat; she had a more difficult time than Cassia, the old mare eating enthusiastically.

Looking to Dechaa, Delia figured if the unicorn didn’t wake up in the next few minutes, she’d rouse her.

Cassia speaking up was about as surprising as it was unsurprising; given all that had happened, reflection wasn’t all that necessary, “Delia… I’m… sorry.”

The younger mare shook her head, meaning what she said, “You have nothing to apologize for, Cassia.”

Delia had a hard time pinpointing what the oldster was apologizing for… or if it wasn’t just some automatic thing to say.

Not all that shocking, Cassia addressed this, “I’m sorry you and your friends fell into this, if nothing else. What a thing to land in.”

Delia had literally landed; she still hurt from it.

The former maid picked at her own breakfast, “Anything else you need to say? Before I wake up Dechaa?”

“We should discuss what we’re going to do before waking her. Have you contacted your other friends?”

Delia had of course; she slurped down a juicy piece of mango, “I did… I called them from your back room… told them only what was necessary. Then I gave them the ‘all’s good’ and told them to stand by an hour ago.”

“You figured out I don’t extend the barrier to the back, eh?” Cassia asked.

“Well, I decided to probe around… I wasn’t going to go outside—not with what you told me about those assholes terrorizing the city—but I figured there’d be a—”

“A weak point? A gap?” Cassia smirked. “I am old.”

Delia knew that wasn’t all of it, “I’ve spent enough time with a couple of pretty powerful unicorns to know even they can’t maintain a perfect barrier. Charms are one thing; barriers are another. It takes a lot of constant, stable energy to generate a decent barrier. I’m amazed yours works as well as it does, but I suppose you only do what is needed.”

Cassia nodded, “That’s why the barrier I have works; I don’t overextend myself. Your friends… how are they doing?”

Delia poked at her fried egg, “Well, they’re glad they had their neckerchiefs; we soaked a bunch of rags in citronella extract to keep the bugs away. I guess they were voracious last night, but the girls didn’t get eaten alive.”

“Well, that’s not a bad thing,” Cassia magically forked some hashbrowns made of yam (try it; it’s good) into her mouth. “Are they okay otherwise?”

Delia said, “I’m glad to say they are. Our mage is feeling better… A night without that misery making itself heard has her feeling decent, at least. Other than them being a little nervous without their own proper magical barrier, they were fine. At least nothing bothered them.”

Cassia looked into Delia’s eyes and had the former maid not been used to it she may have been unnerved; the old one asked, “Is there anything else you wish to know?”

There were a few things Delia wondered but was unsure if Cassia would be willing and/or able to answer, “Well, I found us on the map; it’s an easy trip, so I’m unconcerned with most everything as long as we stay covert. Above all else… You said Eadwig Anthelm had all this in the works for years… What’s he after? And why the clandestineness of it all? He has an army… and a formidable one, if your comments mean much… Why not be more open?

“The country has to be suffering—not that that matters to him—but it’s hard to be isolated. The idea of not exporting or importing goods… not generating revenue? And unless the government is seizing all foodstuffs and controlling distribution—and even then—things don’t look too prosperous overall.”

Cassia actually smiled, “You sound like a merchant, Delia… a proper economist.”

Delia shrugged, “It’s hard for me not to think that way…”

Cassia nodded thoughtfully, “I suppose… As to the punchline of this great, sick joke… I’m stumped, Delia. I don’t know what the goal is in the end. Maybe he just wanted to take over… Money? Fame? Power…? Control? As for why things are as such, I think you know the answer.”

Delia did, “To break his ponies. And to keep things under wraps until he’s powerful enough—that he’s solidified his power—so it’ll be that much harder to stop him.”

“Naturally,” Cassia hummed. “And things aren’t so prosperous. The harvest this year? It’s barely above drought year returns. It’s not who’s tending the land, either; Earth pony magic is as strong as ever and the land is no less fertile when you look at it.”

“It’s almost as if… the land is protesting all that’s going on,” Delia mused, knowing in her mind she was finishing Cassia’s thought.

Cassia smirked, “Sounds kind of fruity, doesn’t it? But… yes, the land is hurting. The new government hasn’t taken full control of the food supply, but I imagine they will now.”

“It’s a game… and those lording over will win… Eadwig will win…” Delia rested her head in her hooves, sleepy rather than distressed about the country’s plight.

Cassia looked to the slouching mare, “And once he’s done so, he can reopen trading with the north. Until then, he’s holding ponies captive by fear and by dictating the food supply. Not all ponies are as clever as you and your friends, living off the land. Even if they were, it wouldn’t sustain any number of them for long. And if you think anypony will rise up against him when the world realizes there is no plague… you’d likely be disappointed.”

Delia had already figured this, “A winter without the southern supply of sugar, spice, dried fruit, tobacco, and whatever else is down here will be devastating to the southern continent. His leverage…”

“…will be significant, yes,” Cassia finished for her, looking miserable. “There’s a lot of hard land between here and the north, Delia… and the east and west coasts cannot feed its needs—and wants—generously enough. And the army? 80% swore loyalty to the new regime…15% have died. What’s left of them is somewhere… out there in the wilderness. Yes… New Salvatrix will be left to its devices; it’s needed. The rest of the continent won’t go to war, but they’ll play the game.”

Delia felt ill, “It’s amazing what the love of a few spices can do…”

“Surely…” Cassia agreed; she changed course abruptly, there being little reason to further dwell on things. “Now, let us discuss how we get you and your friends out of the jungle… and quietly. The less your friends know about all this, the better they’ll all sleep at night.”

It hurt Delia there was nothing for them to do but run but she was a different sort of mare than her friends; she wasn’t a crusader, if that was the right label to attach to any of them, “Right… I guess Dechaa can sleep a few more minutes.”

That’s right… I’m no crusader… I know better…

Ama was having difficulty sitting still. She listened to Loress rustling up their breakfast. Looking around, dawn was making its presence known.

No fire, again… Ama thought sourly. She disliked becoming accustomed to luxuries—it wasn’t the Mazan way, though most didn’t follow “the way”—and she prided herself in keeping with minimalism. But among her friends… Who was she kidding? She loved it.

Loress hummed, “Wilka’s still asleep but if you’d like to eat now, we can save her share a while.”

Ama stretched; she was stiff from sleeping on tree roots—even a minimalist avoided that, “That sounds delightful, Loress. I am rather hungry. We will let Wilka sleep until we have fresh information.”

Loress yawned, “Zyra doing alright?”

Like Wilka, the little mage was asleep.

Ama, beside her good friend, patted her back through a blanket, “I think she is fine. She woke up for a brief time during my watch. She said she was feeling out of sorts but better.”

The Terran shook her head, “I don’t get unicorns… but my magic is incomparable with theirs. What throws them off throws them off.”

Ama felt similarly, “You are right about that… Other than the fact we cannot produce male foals our magic is like that of Earth ponies. The propensity for the way of the warrior… I am convinced that is ‘nurture’ as opposed to it being ‘nature’. Many Mazan would disagree; they are convinced it is in our blood.”

Loress giggled, “Knowing you… I’m not sure what to believe.”

Ama smirked, “It is not something I much concern myself with it all that much, but the love of war is nothing to breed into anypony… or anything.”

“Here you go,” Loress hoofed Ama a large leaf “plate” containing a couple biscuits and some fresh fruit.

Ama smiled, “Oh, you peeled and pitted my mango for me. You are too good…”

Loress hoofed the forest floor, “It’s fine…”

“Well, you are better in the ‘kitchen’ than I,” Ama gratefully began to eat her breakfast.

Loress joined her and for a few minutes the only noise other than the ubiquitous sounds of the forest were the two chewing and swallowing. The two began downing water, preparing for the day.

Then, the “talk-rock” hummed in Ama’s tunic.

Trying to stay calm, Ama managed to not drop the remainder of breakfast; she leaned to her shoulder, “Delia?”

It had been a little over an hour since Delia had contacted them; she sounded tired, “Ama.”

“Did you sleep?”

“No more than I had… I’ve been planning the day.”

“How is Dechaa?” Ama wondered.

Delia answered, “Same. I’ve avoided waking her as I doubt she’d be in any better shape than Zyra, but I’ll rouse her soon. I’m guessing you haven’t heard from Essenta this morning?”

“Negative,” Ama replied; she corrected herself. “Or rather… yes, we have not heard from her. Barring some emergence of note, we agreed to keep silence until we are back at the border’s limits. Regardless, I would have to send somepony to the border.”

Delia took a few seconds, “Right… I keep forgetting about the barrier…”

“It is a strange thing, Delia,” Ama said.

“I can’t blame you for that,” Delia’s voice came through. “Sending Wilka out alone is asking a lot.”

“It is asking too much,” Ama exemplified Delia’s statement. “We must now stay together.”

“Yes.”

“I suppose you are in verbal contact with me because you have some idea of what we must do,” Ama managed to stifle a chuckle, noting Loress’s expectant appearance.

“Yes,” Delia came back. “Take a moment and wake Wilka if she’s not up; Zyra can be filled in later but Wilka should hear this.”

Later, the former maid stared into her teacup. She had almost forgotten the luxury of having a roof over her head, the last few weeks.

Cassia came to the table and sat down.

“I only told them I’d met you, that Dechaa was safe, that I was safe, and that I’d been able to find us on a map and could guide them here,” Delia said, sitting across from Cassia.

“I’m sure they asked you many questions…” Cassia sipped the tea Delia had made.

“Once I began to explain, surely. I just told them I don’t know… I don’t know what had the girls throwing a fit or just what is going on. Whether they bought it or not… I’m unsure.”

“Well, you have a plan now…” the old mare added a little cream to her tea. “What is it?”

“I know exactly where they are in the jungle,” Delia began. “I can guide them safely to the city but not too close. They’ll want to meet you—I don’t see the harm—but we’ll have to hurry as not to rouse suspicion. Their supplies are still good; they contacted the outside last night. Since their supplies are fine, I can carry the spices and small food items on my being and won’t need much else.”

“And when they ask about what’s going on?” Cassia quizzed.

Delia exhaled; she hated lying but… shit, they didn’t need to get involved any more than they had, “There’s political unrest and it’s not in our best interests to stay; we need to go and that’s it—I don’t know much more. It’s ugly and we want to get away. We can’t afford to make our presence known. And the… dead filly… wasn’t tortured and neither was her family murdered… Some filly had a farm accident, but she was a powerful unicorn; all they felt was her anguish before she died.”

Cassia grimaced, “And unless somepony knows the truth then anguish is the only thing they realized, even for a unicorn like Dechaa… That’s plausible and I can back it up.”

“Back me up on what you can; I trust you more than myself…”

“You got it.”

“The barrier, though…” Delia tapped a hoof to the table. “I’m coming up blank.”

“I have some ideas I’ll share with you; just go along,” Cassia continued working on her tea.

Delia had an inkling of a thought about something else, but—

Cassia guffawed, “Go with all of you?! Delia! I’m too old for such nonsense anymore. And even if I could make the trip… would you go back to Penmaenbach?”

Delia could answer pretty quickly, “Other than to see my best friend again… no.”

“I’m going to die here, Delia,” Cassia simpered. “I’ve had a good life… had a fine husband up until last year—he was so happy to see the good things we had going… Had a few lovely daughters with some fine husbands of their own and grandfoals and their children… They’re off happy and I hope they don’t worry too much about me, but I imagine they do, with the ‘plague’ and all. Whether I live to see the land restored or don’t, it’s been pretty good. This land was good to me… and I won’t leave it.”

Delia grinned a small grin, “I figured. It was just an inkling of a thought, after all…”

“Things move in cycles, Delia… all things. Even evil things are as such. The unrest we see makes itself known every few generations, but nothing lasts forever… Someday the land will be what it once was—maybe better…”

Delia nodded, “I’m glad you happened upon us, Cassia…”

Cassia smiled, showing her impressive dentition, “Me too… Now… let’s rouse your friend. We don’t want her bladder bursting.”

The old mare pointed to Dechaa, snoozing away.

Delia found a good jostle brought Dechaa back to her.

“Wha… wha… wha’s gun on?” the young unicorns eyes fluttered, very out of focus.

“Can you hear me?” Delia was reminded of how stoned Hagano the pirate was when they “interrogated” him.

“Delia…? Yeah… I can hear you…” Dechaa returned blearily.

Delia spoke calmly and deliberately, “Dechaa, it’s Delia. You’re safe… I’m safe… and everypony else is fine. We had some trouble in the jungle. Now you’re in a little house in a city near the edge of the jungle.”

Near the edge of the jungle, my ass… Delia knew they were a few miles away from it but considering how bleak things had looked… A few miles in such a place was still quite a chore.

“Is it breakfast time…?” Dechaa mumbled.

Delia almost giggled, “Soon, Dechaa… You’ve had quite an ordeal but you’re okay. Just relax a few minutes.”

“Okay…” Dechaa murmured, appearing to doze.

Cassia nodded, “Oh, yeah… She’s wiped out. I guess we left her that way too long.”

Delia wasn’t overly concerned, “She’ll be fine in about an hour, now that she’s out of the state.”

“She can stand?” Cassia eyed the other unicorn over her tea.

“Stand… walk… She can do most anything with assistance,” Delia cradled Dechaa’s head, which flopped about.

“Well, take her out back,” Cassia set down her teacup. “Curfew’s lifted, so see she relieves herself.”

Delia knew just as well Dechaa was about to burst, “On it.”

“And now that it’s properly morning, you can call out to your friends,” Cassia leaned back. “The sooner you get moving the better.”

Ama took point in the jungle, carrying the bulk of their supplies; she turned back to her friends, “Delia sets our estimate at one mile out. Be on lookout for an old hollowed-out tree that resembles a skull.”

The four had been on the trail to town for a while and was making rather good time.

Loress was in the middle, carrying Zyra on her back; she turned to the unicorn, “Feeling better, Zyra?”

The little mage was a bit green behind the gills, “I’m sorry, Loress… I wasted all that good food…”

Zyra’s mind bade her eat while the rest of her body had said otherwise; the ailing unicorn was already weak but now suffering from mild dehydration, what with her upset stomach and vomiting.

Loress soothed her, “It’s fine… I think I should’ve carried you from the start.”

Zyra chuckled humorlessly, “You know lying around does a body little good… but now I wish I’d let you…”

Wilka eyed the surrounding jungle nervously, “I don’t like this… It’s so hazy…”

Ama turned around, “It is simply fog; it occurs further in with a more tropical setting. Our explorations kept us on the drier border.”

Loress—being the densely-bodied mare she was—still wasn’t handling the humidity the best, even that early in the day, “I’m feeling it… The very air pulls you down…”

Ama halted, “Cease complaining… Everypony… take a drink of the light brine.”

The girls groaned but took hits off their canteens. With the high humidity, they’d put just a little salt and fruit juice in their water to compensate for their sweating. It didn’t taste all that good—it tasted like cold, weak lemony soup—but it perked them up at once.

Paddling along, Ama saw it first, “Ah! There it is…”

Something large had emerged in the fog. The four mares continued their approach and looked up: before them was the largest cypress specimen any of them had seen… and it was little more than a stump.

And it did look like a skull… of a dragon.

Loress’s eyes widened, “Damn… There’s no missing that…!”

Zyra nodded in response.

“That’s not just a stump… it’s a tree!” Wilka was amazed such a thing existed.

Ama was impressed, but factual in her speech, “The vegetation you see comes from the stump. The trunk is long since removed… What a thing it must have been to see…”

The tall mare turned in the direction to which Delia had instructed them.

Loress spoke up, “You should contact Delia again… We’ve been over and over it but it’s so foggy I’m afraid we’ll miss something.”

Ama stopped again, “A wise call… Unclear settings are never to be taken lightly."

The two other mares—plus Loress’s cargo, Zyra—paused, looking on.

Ama hoofed her collar, “Delia…”

“Delia…” Delia heard the talk-rock well enough, even in the kitchen; Cassia took down the barrier during the day.

Cassia smiled, “Seems they’ve found the old ‘Dragon-head Cypress’…”

Delia eagerly sat down at the lit table, map in front of her. Poring over the map, she found their location again.

The former maid hoofed the stone; one had to make a conscious decision to “activate” it, “Ama, can you hear me?”

“Loud and clear…” Ama waxed.

Delia couldn’t help but grin as she heard the novelty in Ama’s voice; the Mazan loved unfamiliar expressions, “Great… Good news on this end: Dechaa’s up and about. She’s a little groggy but I have her taking a nice bath to perk her up.”

“That is good to hear. We have just passed the stump.”

“Keep course on the trail but keep quiet. In about three-quarters of a mile you’ll come across a boulder known as ‘Traders’ Rock’; it’s something the qilin put in years ago. Zyra’s the only one of you that’ll be able to read it, but you don’t have to be able to read it to recognize it… It’s a slab of polished marble that has no earthly reason for being there. I want you four to wait near it. Have Zyra on the ‘lookout’ for anypony… or anything.”

“That sounds simple,” Ama opined. “Will you be along shortly?”

“Yes…” Delia felt better, knowing it was close. “I’ll message you before we set out. Just stay put and out of sight. Once the fog lifts, you’ll be able to see the city.”

“I understand, Delia. If we have issue, we will be in contact. Give Dechaa my best… and your new friend, as well.”

Delia allowed herself a smile, “I will, Ama. Now, maintain silence unless it needs to be broken.”

“Understood,” Ama replied, and Delia knew the connection had dropped.

Cassia looked to Delia, “I’m looking forward to meeting that one…”

“Ama?” Delia pondered. “Oh, you’ll like her. She’s a rather straightforward type.”

The old one noticed something off in the young one. She’d seen a little trepidation out of Delia but now noted something more pressing.

Cassia—not without tact—said, “You have something to say. Might as well put it out there… while Dechaa’s occupied.”

Delia considered Cassia a moment. There was something… and it wasn’t easy to broach.

Author's Note

Check out the Appendix for Princess Essenta, updated as the story moves along. It shows the story's timeline and character designs. Contains spoilers.

My apologies for the delay in releasing a new chapter. I took a little break from rewriting and editing. Had to deal with the end of harvest, winterizing equipment, school, and I played too much Red Dead Redemption II the last month.

Things are looking up for Essenta's little company. A couple hours and a brief walk separate them. Hopefully nothing else goes wrong for them.

If you enjoy Princess Essenta, please take a look at Larkspur Blossom. A story of a colt finding his worth and making a better life for himself.

Also look for The Virgin Company. A tale of a military pony and his platoon in a war centuries ago.

Like, follow, or leave a comment if you please. It's been fun writing and I'm glad some enjoy it.

Thanks for reading, and take care.

Chapter 47: To Meet in the Jungle

Wicked World Arc

Delia stared into the eyes of the elderly Cassia. Since soon after meeting Cassia she was unsure that the old one had told her the entire truth or even the truth about a few things.

She knew it was a potentially bad idea, bringing it up, but she had to be clear on something, “Cassia… My dad was a doctor. He gave that up when I was very young… after Mom died. Whether he picked it up along the way or he already knew it he was a pretty good hustler. He taught me the art of the swindle and all that came with it… and a lot about medicine—I’m no healer or apothecary but I know a lot. We scammed our way across the continent for a couple years—sometimes leaving to the tune of pitchforks and torches—until we came to Penmaenbach. It took me quite a few years to realize it; to do the things he did… it’s hard to comprehend the desperation he must’ve felt.

“Dad… was no match for the crooks there; he was seriously outclassed. He put us into debt gambling and… he sold me to Melchior in exchange for gold to pay the debt. I had come to hate him already and… I wanted to watch him die for that—I wanted to kill him… Melchior had him on a string; despite selling me… for some reason he couldn’t bring himself to leave. If Dad had wised up and left… I’m sure I’d have died in a fuck-dungeon somewhere, with no reason for Melchior to keep me alive. But Dad didn’t wise up and he ran up even more debt… having been stupid enough to borrow from Melchior. That brought him into servitude. I think he was counting on winning again and… I don’t know after that.

“I hated him even more for being so stupid. But he broke into an ‘honest’ life of a farm laborer. He wound up practically running Melchior’s orchards; he was good at it. It may sound strange—Hell, I know it does—but I grew to love him again… despite all that happened. And… even stranger, I was happy… For the first time I could remember I was actually happy… or at least satisfied. Four years ago… he had an accident and died. I know I shouldn’t laugh about it but it’s a pretty funny story… He literally died laughing.”

The former maid had just realized she was laughing… and crying a little. Cassia looked back evenly, not showing much.

Delia went on, “I was a maid from the time I was 9-years-old, Cassia. I’ve cleaned up everything from vomit to blood-stains to privies to kitchens to unattached testicles. A couple years ago, Melchior… and my best friend elected to make use of my skills—my dad taught me a lot… and I figured out a few things on my own. I suddenly went from ‘going free’ at age 30… to 20, doing some of their dirty work. I only had a couple more years, but I met my new friends. And we wound up here, to summarize things.”

Cassia finally said something, “This ‘best friend’ of yours… I sense something.”

Delia shrugged, choking up again, “Do I love him? Of course… Do I love him…? Dunno. He saved me… in a way I could never answer for… when I made the worst decision of my life.”

Cassia asked a question to which both she and Delia already knew the answer, “What’s all this for?”

Delia sighed, “That’s my life, in a nutshell, Cassia… Do you…? I mean, did you…?”

“Was I telling you the truth? About my family going north?”

Delia nodded, sniffling.

Cassia smiled, “I’ve had quite a life Delia… but that was the truth. I haven’t seen a one of my daughters—or their families—in 15 years, other than over a crystal ball. It’s a different world than it used to be. Ponies go where opportunities arise.”

Delia wasn’t sure why she even said it, “Sorry…”

“For what?” Cassia kneaded her shoulder. “Sure, things could’ve been better for that little filly that never knew where she came from… and knew nothing but sadness and debauchery… But I grew up… I escaped… I met a fine stallion; he knew what I was. I doubt my daughters didn’t figure it out… They’re too smart for that. But they grew up not knowing that life, as did their children and their children’s children.”

Delia nodded, a few tears squeezing from between her eyelids. Cassia jostled her shoulder again.

“And your children… will never know such a life, either. Take heart in that.”

“I’ll try…” Delia managed.

“Dry eyes, Delia… Here comes Dechaa.”

The unicorn maiden was murmuring pleasurably, walking out of the back room and drying herself, “Oh, it’s so nice to be clean…”

Against Delia’s hopes, Cassia greeted her cheerfully, “Good morning, dearie! How are you feeling?”

The unfamiliar voice jarred Dechaa and she yipped, propelling herself into a wall of pots and pans; the metal fell in a clatter.

Cassia guffawed but Delia hissed, “I just finished drying all those…”

Dechaa, in her birthday-suit—not that it mattered much for a pony—had retreated to a corner; she whined, “Delia… Who’s that?!”

Delia sighed; she’d told Dechaa little about much of anything, wanting to wait for her to “perk up” and have her wits about her, “Relax, Dechaa… This is Cassia; she’s a friend.”

“Where are we…?” Dechaa looked fearful, but her voice showed awareness.

“We’re in a town called Nuinhof,” Delia decided to just tell her about the last day. “Something happened to us in the jungle… You’re fine, now, but you had a seizure. I think Zyra might’ve had one too…”

“A what…?” Dechaa looked scared.

“Like I said, you’re fine now,” Delia tried to keep a level voice. “You teleported us here yesterday by accident when your magic surged.”

“Where is everypony?!”

Delia figured Dechaa wasn’t taking in everything she was saying and tried to go slowly, “The others are fine, Dechaa. Zyra’s fine and so are Ama, Loress, and Wilka. Essenta and Orni are fine, too, outside of all this.”

“Ama?” Dechaa narrowed her gaze; she recalled their tall friend was hanging out back at camp.

“Ama’s in the jungle, leading the three we were foraging with; Essenta gave her command until we get out of here.”

“But where are they?” Dechaa’s panic lessened.

“They’re about a half-of-a-mile away… and like I said, they’re safe. We’ll be seeing them within an hour or two; they’re coming for us.”

Dechaa appeared to relax, some, and turned to the elderly mare, “And your name was…”

“Cassia,” the old one smiled. “Just Cassia. And do we have a few things to tell you.”

Leaving out the “bad” side of things, they explained to Dechaa a filly had been hurt and died in a farm accident, and being a budding psychic, made her anguish known. They were fortunate to “land” so close to their friends, but it was in their best interest to piss off back to where they came from, there being political unrest.

Delia could tell something—and she wasn’t even a unicorn: Cassia was a reasonably powerful unicorn and Dechaa wouldn’t be able to notice anything Cassia didn’t want her to. She was unconcerned with Dechaa examining her, though; she knew Dechaa, as powerful as she was, needed an intimate connection to do more than “read” a pony. Delia spent much of her life doing dirty work; she was good at fibbing.

Dechaa didn’t like it but agreed it best they disappear.

Delia was relieved Dechaa bought it or at least decided to go with the flow; she was more concerned about the others, telling them the half-truths she and Cassia had concocted. Wilka would go along with it, certainly—she wasn’t stupid, but young and afraid. Zyra and Loress would see some ruse, certainly, but would see getting away was the best thing to do and put aside their worries. Ama was the main concern…

Delia reasoned that if Ama made a fuss she could take command and apologize later; they had a couple unicorns and the only creature stronger than Loress in the conceivable vicinity would be a dragon. Essenta had made a good choice, putting Ama in charge—they might’ve needed her uncompromising touch if things had turned out differently. But they were about to be together again and any nonsense about “following orders without hesitation” was out the window. She hoped Ama wouldn’t be foolish—or rather, idealistic enough—to want to dig further into the goings-on or worse, to intervene somehow.

And when all was said and done, and they were “safe” Delia would be able to tell them the truth. Hopefully they’d recognize the lies were for their own good and not be too upset about it.

Delia didn’t want to lie to her friends, but they had to get away quickly. Thankfully, the former maid had a psychic unicorn to help her with her deceit. She figured it was time to contact the others.

“How about that?” Loress had taken point in the jungle. “A sign…”

The sign pointed in their current direction and read the following:

Nuinhof: ½ Mile

“Well, that is simple enough…” Ama nodded.

Zyra voiced from Loress’s back, “Great… just a little longer…”

Wilka, at the rear, worried, “Oh, thank goodness… I guess we just need to watch for the boulder Delia talked about.”

Ama allowed a little smile, “As some say, ‘We should not count our chickens until they hatch’, but I am quite glad things have gone smoothly… Delia has again contacted us, and they are presently setting out to meet us.”

“Don’t jinx it…” Loress whined.

Ama snorked, “Bah! Superstition and bunkum!”

Zyra complained, “Everypony just please shut up… I’m getting nauseous again… The noise doesn’t help…”

Ama soothed her, “Just try to doze a few moments… Perhaps when you awaken our friends will be with us again.”

“Fine…” Zyra sighed. “Somepony get me a little mint please…”

Wilka found a sprig, calming the demons of nausea in Zyra, and the four mares continued the schlep towards Nuinhof.

Dechaa and Delia followed Cassia through town, towards the edge. Each young mare had empty-looking sacks to give evidence they weren’t up to no good, as part of Cassia’s plan. In reality each bag had the materials Delia had purchased for the journey back across the desert.

The old mare motioned to a building direction and spoke quietly, “That’s townhall, Delia, but you know that already, right? It’s fortunate you didn’t wind up trying to break in. It’s guarded 24-7…”

Delia was glad the geriatric psychic had “happened” upon her before she did something stupid; they’d not landed in any ordinary situation where one could casually sneak into a local government building so easily.

Dechaa didn’t like how quiet it was, given it was morning in a city of size, “This is weird… Shouldn’t ponies be out working or going to the market…?”

The healer had been fussing, but thankfully wasn’t asking too many questions.

Delia was happy to let Cassia explain her worries away. But it was awfully quiet… It was quite eerie, the streets almost empty.

“We’re not violating any curfew or anything, being out here,” Cassia said casually. “It just takes a while for things to liven up because we do have one… Plus, the harvest is just now over; they indulge in sleep, some.”

Delia was impressed with Cassia’s ability to quell Dechaa’s qualms with the situation, but the unicorn mare didn’t seem overly curious to begin with; she knew something was wrong and chose to keep her mouth closed more than she might. She shuddered to think of how Dechaa—and the others—would later respond, learning some little filly and her family had been put to death on the opposite edge of town. It was a small blessing their needed direction was to the west and not the east.

Cassia yawned, “What we’re doing is very normal and many ponies around here do it. It’s easier for the “troublemakers” to let us do it than force us to buy everything from the market or them or supply it for us. We’re just going into the forest to pick a few spices, tubers, and fruit… maybe a few mushrooms to supplement my supplies.”

“And ‘smuggle out’ a couple of young mares…” Delia glanced about; ponies weren’t even at their windows.

“I fully intend to do both, dear…” Cassia stated. “I do this most mornings… visiting the jungle, that is.”

After a short jaunt, the three mares found themselves reaching the western city-limits. The two young ones noticed a stallion posted on the path into the jungle. They tried to relax and trust Cassia, not that they had much choice as far as trust went.

Cassia whispered sideways, “This isn’t one of the troublemakers… he’s just a kindly police officer relegated to watching the city limits in the mornings. I’ll handle this.”

The two nodded and would let her do whatever she wanted.

Delia was surprised Dechaa had “fallen for” the story about the stallions “keeping an eye on things” were a bunch of inept bullies that were lazy and liked to sleep in. Cassia had explained to Delia the stallions were lazy but “the squealer” was probably lurking around. Still, even that little cocksucker—as Cassia occasionally referred to “the squealer”—didn’t know everypony in the city by sight. Cassia hadn’t said anything to Dechaa about “the squealer” and it was just as well; she was skeeved enough already without knowing some little weasel could be watching them.

Delia knew if they played it cool, they’d likely be fine. For the moment they had to rely on the old mare she’d fallen in with.

Cassia paddled up to the stallion, “Good morning, Officer.”

He looked up; the girls could see a sad weariness in his face but also a warmness, “Oh, Cassia… Hello.”

“How are you today?”

The officer rolled his shoulders, “I’ve been out here since dusk; I’m tired.”

“Well, I’ll get out of your mane quickly, Officer,” Cassia said. “We’re going out to pick a few things… maybe find some sugarcane.”

“Cassia… I’ve been meaning to say… you can just call me ‘Toca’… It’s odd that everypony’s de facto grandma calls a young stallion like me ‘Officer’…”

Cassia giggled at the fellow, “And you know that as long as you’re in uniform, you’re ‘Officer Toca’. Catch me sometime when you’re not and you’ll get the old ‘grandma treatment’; I’m planning a batch of gingersnaps later and you’ll get your allotment.”

The stallion held out a hoof as if regretting his action; he was there for business after all, “Papers.”

Dechaa and Delia had heard of no “papers”; they were afraid a moment, but Cassia forked over a few sheets, “The two here gave me theirs… They’ll need empty pockets on top of their bags if my feeling proves right.”

The stallion was going through the “identification” papers—though Cassia’s were real, “You do seem to be successful when you go out there.”

Cassia beamed, “It saves me quite a bit of silver.”

The stallion nodded sympathetically, “It’s getting more expensive for us all… Who are these two?”

Cassia saw he’d reached the mares’ ‘papers’, “Just a couple girls I know from across town… I suppose you might not recognize them. We decided they wouldn’t make curfew, so they stayed with me last night. We pooled our groceries and had curry.”

Dechaa and Delia were sure they saw the stallion’s eyes glaze over as he scanned the documents.

The stallion smiled and chuckled absently as he hoofed through the papers, “My, that sounds lovely… It certainly explains why you might go out now for extra pickings… Well, everything appears to be in order. Be careful out in the jungle; a tiger was spotted two days ago.”

“I heard about it, but thank you,” Cassia took back the sheets and moved past him.

“Stay close by…” the officer advised, looking ill-at-ease. “They’re keeping a closer eye on things today…”

“I hear you…” Cassia said back, reflecting his woe.

Glad things worked out, the younger mares followed.

Delia asked, “What did you do to him?”

“I just modified his memory some…” Cassia smirked. “Your ‘papers’ were blank, actually. He won’t remember a thing about you two. I’ll come back alone with a bag of pickings and that’s how he’ll remember it.”

Delia was cautious, “He seems a decent fellow…”

Cassia looked sad, “Toca is a marvelous fellow. I’ve known him since he was a foal. I’ve known just about all the ponies in town since they were foals. But with things the way they are… he does as much as he must in order to keep his position. We’d be worse off if he wasn’t still on the force.”

Dechaa nodded, ignorant of things.

Delia felt her heart seize up. She thought of that “marvelous fellow” and the pain in his eyes… She thought of the filly and her family and what good ponies must have been going through, just trying to keep on living… in fear.

Noticing her eyes were heating up, Delia tried to focus, “Let’s move.”

The three mares entered the jungle.

Author's Note

Check out the Appendix for Princess Essenta, updated as the story moves along. It shows the story's timeline and character designs. Contains spoilers.

The company is soon to be reunited. Their day-long struggle is about to end.

If you enjoy Princess Essenta, please take a look at Larkspur Blossom. A story of a colt finding his worth and making a better life for himself.

Also, look for The Virgin Company. A tale of a military pony and his platoon in a war centuries ago.

And if you're up for something less tasteful, check out my one-shot.

Like, follow, or leave a comment if you please. It's been fun writing and I'm glad some enjoy it.

Thanks for reading, and take care.

Chapter 48: Cruelty

Wicked World Arc

While Ama and Wilka lounged about on the far side of a boulder off the trail, Loress put a cold, damp cloth on Zyra’s forehead; the Terran hummed to the unicorn, “There you go… It’s wet enough in the disgusting jungle but the cold should help.”

Zyra was feeling quite a bit better, especially since she wasn’t riding on the back of another pony, bouncing about, anymore, “It’s just nice to lie down too… But the cold is nice… It’s funny; I can freeze a wet rag with magic, but I can’t make myself feel better with it.”

Loress let out a little giggle, “I’m pretty sure there must be some ‘deeply engrained magical rule’ to keep such things in check.”

“Sure…” Zyra lamented. “I can’t do it… That’s ‘rules’ enough. Not even Dechaa can do it and she knows more about healing magic than just about anypony back in the valley…”

“And Wilka’s ability is a whole other thing…” Loress offered.

“And it only works if she knows exactly what’s wrong,” Zyra pulled the rag over her eyes.

Wilka piped up, actually feeling a little bored, “It’s mightily frustrating, let me tell you. I could break half the bones in my body—fix myself up in a couple miserable hours—but I can’t relieve a simple cold.”

Ama was enjoying the morning more than she might; it was humid, sure, but not too hot yet, “If what Dechaa says is true there is nothing simple about the common cold.”

Loress kindly explained, “She means it seems like such a small thing… compared to such a severe injury.”

The Mazan’s eyes lit up, “Oh… another meaning of ‘simple’. Continental Standard is a most interesting language!”

The girls chuckled in turn.

Wilka looked to Ama, “How far off are they now?”

Ama wasn’t really keeping track of the time but Delia had been in contact very recently, “The path is rather straightforward, I know. And with a local guiding them I imagine we will see them momentarily, their chance of losing the path further reduced.”

“Don’t expect them as quickly as you might think,” Zyra muttered from her resting spot. “They’re dragging along a granny…”

Ama didn’t take kindly to Zyra’s statement, “Zyra! Show respect for your elders! For a pony to have lived so long… the things she has seen! The life she has lived! I look forward to meeting this Cassia.”

Wilka sat up, staring down the path, “Well, you’re gonna get your wish. I see them.”

Ama and Loress bolted up as well; they’d have gladly called out to their friends but were attempting to keep some silence.

Leaving Zyra, the three went to meet the two coming out of the now-clearing fog.

Dechaa and Delia didn’t mean to leave Cassia behind, but they trotted quickly to join Ama, Loress, and Wilka.

Loress and Wilka made no attempt to stifle the sob that escaped each of them and neither did Dechaa, the blubbering mess she quickly became. The three mares embraced, making quite the spectacle.

Delia approached Ama, returning her big smile, “I’m so glad to see you.”

Ama nodded, a hint of emotion in her voice, “And I, you, Delia. It has only been a day, but it seems to have been much longer.”

Delia kneaded the tall mare’s shoulder, “It’s been trying…”

“Indeed…” Ama agreed.

The two young mares were brought out of their own little world by an aged voice, “So, Delia… this must be Ama.”

Ama beamed at the old one, “Honored Cassia! It is a pleasure to make your acquaintance.”

“‘Honored’?” Cassia simpered, shaking Ama’s offered hoof. “I knew I’d like this one!”

Ama looked down—only because of her height—with admiration and obvious respect at Cassia, “For helping my friends… I cannot thank you enough! I am forever in your debt!”

Cassia joked, “Well, at least you won’t be for long. The walk out here’s likely taken a few years off whatever remains of my life!”

Ama got the joke, “Most amusing but I am still in your debt. I am sure you did this at no small risk.”

The mares began to paddle towards the rest of the group. Delia knew the three carrying on so meant her no ill, watching Zyra join in, the others having gone to her; Delia was still new.

Cassia chuckled in response to Ama’s thought, “It was little trouble. And it was certainly worth what trouble it might’ve been; your Delia makes a mighty fine curry!”

Delia said with great sarcasm, “Ponies have told me in the past my cooking was worth dying for, but it’s never been put to the test…”

Ama laughed, “It is worth at least fighting for.”

Delia and Cassia joined in Ama’s laughter, uniting with the rest.

The mares, including Zyra, looked warmly upon Delia.

Delia felt her eyes heat up; she addressed her friends, “Everypony… I have somepony I’d like to introduce.”

The seven mares were laughing rather hard at the antics of Cassia, especially the old mare herself.

“How do you know if a mare is too fat to fuck?” the old mare waxed.

Out of breath from laughing so hard, none would be able to answer even if they knew why.

Cassia delivered the line, “When you pull her dress down her ass is still in it!”

Ama gasped and coughed hard, bringing more mirth to the group. It wasn’t that her choking was funny, but the fact she coughed up the half of a cashew she’d inhaled and hit Dechaa in the forehead, stuck there with Ama’s saliva.

The young unicorn looked to her friends, unsure of what was so funny… until the morsel dropped into her lap.

“EEEEEWWW! Yuck!” she scrambled backwards, brushing herself as if she’d been covered in something unspeakable.

The other girls just laughed harder. It felt good to laugh after a day of worrying.

Cassia said to the howling mares, “And what’s even funnier, is one of my grandfoals told me that joke! He said he’d learned it at school! We didn’t even have the heart to wash his mouth out with soap!”

Yes… it was good to laugh.

It was still rather early in the morning and learning of Cassia’s ploy to get Dechaa and Delia out of the city the mares had quickly gathered a few supplies in the jungle to support her story.

Now they were all sitting under a soundproof bubble, maintained by Cassia, having brunch. The morning had been full of fun and sharing. They’d exchanged names and stories and “good” humor, obviously.

Cassia leaned back against the boulder they’d set up at, “How about a song?”

This was met with ascent.

Delia raised a hoof, “I got one.”

Cassia nodded, “Let’s have it.”

Delia stated, “The refrain’s easy; it goes like this…”

Oh, the buzzin' of the bees in the lollipop trees
The soda-water fountains
Where the lemonade springs and the bluebird sings
In the Big Rock Candy Mountains

It was easy enough.

“Got it?” Delia asked.

The mares responded with ascent.

Cassia chuckled, “I remember that one… though not all the verses. I sang it when I was a foal.”

Delia felt a twinge. She tried to push the unpleasant thoughts out of her mind… Little Cassia… having fun… whether it was before or after her enslavement had begun.

But the others were ignorant of that part of Cassia’s past; the old mare had only shared the good things.

“Okay,” Delia nodded her head, trying to perk up. “This is an old one but a fun one!”

They all sang the refrain and Delia supplied the verses.

Oh, the buzzin' of the bees in the lollipop trees
The soda-water fountains
Where the lemonade springs and the bluebird sings
In the Big Rock Candy Mountains

On a summer day, a-swingin’ his mane
A burly bum came hiking
Down a shady lane through the sugar cane
He was looking for his liking
As he strolled along, he sang a song
Of the land of milk and honey
Where a bum can stay
For many a day
And he won't need any money

Oh, the buzzin' of the bees in the lollipop trees
The soda-water fountains
Where the lemonade springs and the bluebird sings
In the Big Rock Candy Mountains

In the Big Rock Candy Mountains
The cops have wooden legs
The timber-wolves have rubber teeth
And the hens lay soft-boiled eggs
The farmers' trees are full of fruit
The barns are full of hay
I want to go where there ain't no snow
Where the sleet don’t fall, and the wind don’t blow
In the Big Rock Candy Mountains

Oh, the buzzin' of the bees in the lollipop trees
The soda-water fountains
Where the lemonade springs and the bluebird sings
In the Big Rock Candy Mountains

In the Big Rock Candy Mountains
There’s giant ice cream cones
And the little streams of alcohol
Come trickling down the stones
The royals have to tip their crowns
And the soldiers, they are blind
There's a lake of stew and of whiskey, too
You can paddle all around 'em in a big canoe
In the Big Rock Candy Mountains

Oh, the buzzin' of the bees in the lollipop trees
The soda-water fountains
Where the lemonade springs and the bluebird sings
In the Big Rock Candy Mountains

In the Big Rock Candy Mountains
The jails are made of tin
And you can walk right out again
As soon as you are in
There ain't no spades or shovels
No axes, saws, or picks
I'm a-goin' to stay where you sleep all day
Where they hung the jerk that invented work
In the Big Rock Candy Mountains

The girls felt their spirits continue to lift with the fun little tune, laughing and buffeting one another.

Ama giggled, “To think a song about a fellow so worthless could be such a pleasure…”

The others laughed; that wasn’t really the point but not untrue…

Zyra guffawed, “Delia! Let’s improvise a verse!”

“The two of us?” Delia chortled.

“Yeah! I think I got the scheme down.”

The others liked the idea; it sounded fun.

Delia grinned, “Okay, everypony… let’s have the refrain!”

So, all the mares sang the refrain, before the two “soloists” went back and forth, with Zyra giving the first line.

In the Big Rock Candy Mountains

The trots are all downhill

Where a mare can get sloshed everyday

And the drink, it isn’t swill

I’m going there tomorrow; I’m going there to stay

Where the jokes are always funny

And your nose is never runny

And you got your honey

And you screw like bunnies

Under skies so sunny

And you never find cheese in your little horse cunny!

In the Big Rock Candy Mountains

The company and Cassia cracked up as Zyra and Delia sang the last line together. They’d gone a little overboard but got caught up in the rhyme. Zyra was reliable for turning the end of a song into something obscene… for better or worse.

But the fun could only last so long.

Delia knew their time was petering out; they’d have to go soon, leaving Cassia to return home. So far, the old mare had encouraged merriment and the young mares were so wrapped up in enjoying their reunion they didn’t seem to be thinking about the things they’d heard—true and less believable—about the situation inside the magical bubble that covered most of the country.

It was stupid, Delia knew, but she was relying on the idea they’d “forget” about what might be going on and want to split. She knew they were playing a dangerous game; she thought about the border being guarded and knew it was a small miracle they never encountered any soldiers in their foraging. She thought of their own difficulties coming up and about Essenta and Orni… ignorant to so many things. She hoped Cassia would help convince those with her to just leave and not ask questions.

She was also concerned about the others if they ran into trouble. Looking to Ama and Loress, Cassia felt somewhat reassured. She was unsure about Dechaa and not counting much on Zyra, as off-kilter as she seemed. And Wilka… Delia wasn’t sure… but the little mare could fight, she’d heard. Regarding herself, Delia knew she could fight. That’s what worried her the most at the moment… a confrontation with soldiers.

Still, with Ama and Loress, she was confident nothing could stop them for long. This had Delia confident they’d be able to fight their way out, if the worst happened.

With the gaiety quieting down, the girls were finishing brunch.

Delia’s fears, though, regarding Ama, soon came up. She knew Ama could change direction quickly but even she wasn’t ready for the abruptness.

“Friend Cassia…” the Mazan chewed her cashew-cake. “Again, I thank you for watching over our friends in your difficult time. That such trouble has befallen your land is regrettable.”

Cassia played it cool, “It’s just a little instability with the new leadership.”

Delia realized this understatement wasn’t untrue but Ama was having none of it.

Ama looked scandalized, “‘Instability’? The world has feared Salvatrix obliterated by plague! We come down her to find nopony has left the country in months, that a barrier has been erected, and that there is no plague…!”

The others halted their eating then and there. Ama had worked herself up into a righteous indignation and it had them shaking in their tunics.

“Not all countries see a peaceful transition of power, Ama Waterfall…” Cassia said with great coolness. “When a pony-”

“The rest of the continent must know!” Ama stood up suddenly. “It is clear as crystal you have no intention of explaining the complexities of the situation! I have seen through your game this entire time! Your jokes—though highly amusing—are a means to distract us! You mean to protect us, but we are not just any mares…!”

To many such a statement would sound most arrogant, but Cassia knew it to be true: a more formidable group of eight mares (six at the moment) didn’t likely exist at any place or time.

Ama may have not said this in arrogance but she said it with pride.

Cassia advised, “You’d do well to relax, Ama…”

Delia looked around and saw that all she’d predicted was coming true before her eyes: Dechaa, Zyra, and Loress knew something big was up but knew better than to ask; Wilka looked as young as she was, confused and afraid; Ama was ready to go crusading. It wasn’t that Ama was stupid… she was just a different mare than the rest. The rest were willing to hide whatever unpleasantness they knew to exist from themselves and just leave.

Loress tried to reason with the incensed Mazan, “Ama… I don’t know just what you’re thinking but we need to go.”

Ama was the only one among the girls capable of really scaring Loress on a regular basis—though she knew them all to be formidable—and her delivery didn’t hide this fact. Then again, Ama was capable of unnerving all of them on a regular basis.

Delia hadn’t been afraid Ama would abuse the authority given to her but now she feared she might; she prepared herself mentally for the potential overthrowing of the maiden of Clan Waterfall.

Ama quelled some of these thoughts, seeing the fear in her friends, “I apologize… I have no intention of doing anything foolish, girls… and I do not mean to mistreat the station Essenta has temporarily seen fit to bestow upon me! If Cassia will not share with us what is going on, then it is our duty as mares—as ponies!—to learn the truth and alert the rest of the continent!”

Delia couldn’t believe how awkward this was; Ama was sincere but it was like inept theatre playing out! The other mares began to look thoughtful.

Great…

Before Delia could even begin to contemplate if the others would buy into Ama’s idea—they were all passionate mares, wanted to do good, and some of them were obscenely powerful—everything ground to a halt.

It was unexpected—but perhaps it wasn’t—that Cassia would intervene the way she did.

Ama knelt down, not regretting her harsh words but humbling herself before an admired elder, “Honored Cassia… please-!”

“Ama Waterfall!” Cassia almost shouted.

The rest of them jumped, including Delia; the former maid hadn’t heard Cassia even raise her voice.

What was actually happening, perhaps only Delia noticed at first.

Ama had made eye-contact with Cassia. It was obvious they were communicating telepathically, enabled by Cassia. And Ama’s face grew more concerned and alarmed by the second—and it only took a few seconds. Finally, Ama’s body jilted as if she’d been zapped.

Oh, fuck… Delia fretted. What are you telling her?!

But the former maid should’ve known Cassia wouldn’t be sharing anything Ama wasn’t ready to process. Ama’s resolve and nature shown to Cassia as a beacon and she told the Mazan the plain truth as she had with Delia herself. What was more shocking was Cassia communicated all she did in those few seconds; Delia figured it must’ve been quite the mind-fuck.

It was no secret to anypony that Cassia was a psychic; they’d dealt with such and almost immediately recognized what she’d done to Ama.

They saw the Mazan deflate but she took a few seconds to compose herself, forcing the shock from her face… especially her eyes.

Ama spoke and when she did Delia had no intention of “taking over command”; the Mazan choked out, “We go… now…”

Ama’s proclamation had the others floored. They knew then and there… things were beyond them… and they would accept that. Even Wilka appeared to have finally caught on.

Delia, just as shocked by the honorable Mazan’s strangled statement, was immensely relieved she’d reacted as she did to the news Cassia shared.

It was unfortunate to see Ama hang her head and begin to weep. It was jarring to the girls.

Cassia put a kind hoof on her shoulder.

“Dearie… I’m sorry…” the old one forced out; she looked wrecked over what she’d done.

Ama, sniffling, shook her head, “No… I was being foolish…”

They all looked on as Ama wiped her eyes.

After a moment, their leader-at-present looked up, “Girls… clean up and be ready in five minutes. We travel fast and quietly.”

Nopony needed telling twice; they set to the task.

Ama did her share but looked far-off in her eyes. It worried Delia.

“Cassia…” the former maid approached the old mare, busy with her own impending departure. “You couldn’t have been a little gentler about that?”

The ancient pony turned tired eyes to Delia, “I was… What seemed like a few seconds to you was an hour to the two of us. Something tells me that you girls—perhaps not you—have experience with such.”

Delia knew this. Ama herself—that brave, brave mare—had spent weeks in Zyra’s mind when the mage pulled into herself… her only wish to understand and help the pony that had become her best friend.

Turning her eyes from the Mazan, Delia gulped, “How much did you tell her?”

“All you know… and no more” Cassia sighed.

Delia felt her throat tighten but now wasn’t the time; she hugged Cassia, “Thanks for everything. Without you… we’d have been lost.”

Cassia returned the embrace as best she could, “Just go. Things are dangerous. Be wary crossing the barrier.”

“I wish there was something we could do for you.”

“Get somewhere safe… and don’t concern yourself with me or this. That may be all you can do. Tell the world what’s going on here, but… don’t hold out for hope.”

Delia felt further hurt but knew even before they discussed the matter that money made the world go around and the pursuit of it and goods would likely keep the status quo in Salvatrix.

Cassia cleared her throat and getting their attention addressed the group, “Girls… It’s regrettable you all had to become involved in such a thing but there’s nothing you can do. You need to just go.”

Most of the girls had resigned to this and it was visible in their demeanor. Loress put a reassuring hoof on Wilka’s shoulder, the Pegasus hanging her head.

Dechaa spoke, “Cassia… thanks…”

There wasn’t much else that needed saying from the healer.

Cassia marshaled a smile, “I’m glad I found you… be well.”

Ama, sniffling a little, approached the old one and took her hoof, “Honored Cassia… thank you for aiding my friends. Again… I am in your debt.”

Cassia patted the tall mare’s hoof, “Get your girls—your wonderful friends—to safety and consider it repaid.”

Ama would accept this, “Very well.”

The elder shouldered the little bag, laden with assorted pickings, “I really need to get back.”

The six others nodded.

“Stay vigilant… and stay quiet,” Cassia advised. “Farewell.”

“Good-bye…” Delia tried to smile as the old mare paddled away into the disappearing mist.

The farewell may have been fonder but considering all things, there wasn’t much bittersweetness to be had… just bitterness, mostly. The girls all heaved a sigh; it was time to go.

This brought them back, though, to their uneasiness.

Ama knew she had to say something, “Friends. As you have gathered… Cassia has shared with me the secrets of this land. It is no pretty tale… Please… do not dwell on it now. We must move now; I will explain later.”

The others got the message.

Delia noticed the Mazan’s watery eyes contact hers. The eyes were pleading and very sad, only for her.

“And I’ll help her,” Delia groaned; she wouldn’t leave it to Ama alone. “Cassia told me everything… last night. But Ama’s right… We move for now.”

Delia was not displeased to see Ama swell a little at that.

Ama knew she wasn’t suffering alone, though it brought rather little comfort.

That settled things. The six mares began to move west.

The temperature was rising rapidly, causing discomfort for the girls on their latest schlep through the jungle. But at least they were moving away from trouble.

It was a joyless time, quiet not only out of necessity but because their spirits were about as low as they’d been in recent times.

Delia consulted the latest landmark on the trail; her memories of Cassia’s maps were not only fresh but engraved in her mind, “Thank goodness… only half-a-mile to the barrier.”

The rest didn’t show it, but they were glad to hear it.

They weren’t just walking but picking the occasional fruit along the way.

Ama munched on part of a mango, “I hope Essenta and Orni are prepared… Even if we elect to remain in the savanna for the day…”

Delia responded to Ama’s trailing off, “Don’t fret… I’m sure they took the advice. With the time, perhaps they’ve even finished the flour preparations.”

Delia knew as well as everypony else this wasn’t likely; neither mare back at camp had magic. She just felt she had to say something.

Loress blinked at a fly pestering her, “Gotta refresh our rags soon… Whatever’s going on, we’ll be able to contact them soon.”

That was a relief; they’d heard nothing from camp since the night before. But with Essenta’s and Orni’s skills the girls were sure they were at least safe, waiting for them.

But their track record with troubling encounters wouldn’t improve that day.

Dechaa was the first to respond. She shocked and repelled Ama and Wilka by puking violently between her front hooves. The other mares yipped and jumped clear.

Delia had been taking point with Loress right behind her. Turning around she saw Loress’s eyes widen.

Oh… shit… Delia noticed the Terran quaking.

Looking back, she saw Zyra shuddering; the little mage fell over with a cry.

Ama’s composure fell like a rock, seeing this all happening again, “No, no, no, no, NO!”

Delia’s mind began to move faster, “Now what?!”

Loress peered around, looking lost, “It’s that filly…”

Witnessing Zyra doubling over on herself and Dechaa begin to buck again—both crying—Delia’s mind began to race, “But she died! Cassia told me so!”

Loress twitched, her blue eyes swimming and her cream-colored face having lost its minuscule color, “Not yet… She was… unconscious…”

Ama began to back away from Dechaa, pulling Wilka along—the little Pegasus was at a loss, barely able to move her own legs.

But the filly died! How could she survive another night…?! Dechaa… Dechaa… Zyra… Delia’s thoughts were all over the place.

The thought had been so frightful Delia hadn’t entertained it for a time, but she noticed Dechaa. It was clear why Ama had moved clear.

The unicorn’s eyes had rolled back, and she was jerking; before their eyes the healer began to shift across the ground, this time with an audible cracking sound.

The former maid then felt what may have been the greatest experience of fear she’d ever known; it was as if everything around her was turning black, as she watched the scene unfold.

Eyes darting before settling on their healer, Delia’s eyes widened, taking in the visible sparks emanating from Dechaa’s entire body, as she began to “micro-teleport”.

Delia dove towards Dechaa, desperate to make contact… to suppress her magic, “NO! No, no, no! Not again!”

“NO!” Ama, moving fast, roughly stopped Delia in her tracks.

Delia struggled, “Let go of me!”

The former maid heaved against the Mazan’s control, nearly hard enough to free herself. She stopped—for some reason—when she turned to the other hooves just set upon her… They were… gentler.

Loress stared back into her eyes… and Delia hoped to never see such hopelessness in a set of eyes again; the Terran said, “Don’t touch her… We can’t risk it.”

Delia’s mind was racing, “Zyra! She can subdue her!”

Ama’s voiced choked, “She cannot.”

Delia was able to turn her head enough to see Zyra; the little unicorn was in worse shape than ever, feebly kicking the ground, her eyes rolling. It was as sickening as it was heartbreaking.

Turning her eyes another way, she saw Wilka cowering against a tree, sobbing.

Delia realized there wasn’t a thing she could do.

The little Earth pony went limp and began to cry. Ama knew she’d given up the fight and released her. While Loress gathered up her newest friend in an embrace—Delia had no legs to stand upon at that point—Ama sank to her haunches, taking on that same horrifying look of bleakness Loress had just displayed.

The mares, keeping their distance, watched their healer writhe in the throes of another seizure.

Then something awful happened, terrifying in its power: a visible field began to exude from Dechaa’s being. The others saw it but were too put-off at first to react as it enveloped them. Their faces betrayed an indescribable fear… By the time they’d realized something new was happening, none of them could move; they were trapped in the aura.

Delia realized, in absolute horror, the same feeling that had preceded every terrible jump made—to which she’d clung to the healer—as she was teleported around the physical confines of the barrier surrounding Salvatrix.

Delia fell with a flump to the ground.

Her eyes shut tightly, she didn’t want to open them. Feeling around she knew she was on grass… familiar grass.

Delia’s eyes snapped open and, on her side, she realized she was facing Nuinhof; she recognized some of the taller buildings but didn’t recognize the location, otherwise.

Cautiously she sat up; she looked around. Her five friends—and quite of bit of debris and detritus—were all there.

Dechaa had not only pulled the five mares through, but all that had been within the field she’d generated. A rotten log, a shrub, and quite a bit of wet earth had come along; the earthy smell was quite powerful.

Too bewildered to be frightened Delia further looked around. No ponies appeared to be in the streets and she wasn’t at all sure what to make of it, considering it was now late in the morning.

Turning around at a noise, Dechaa saw Ama and Loress stirring. Even Wilka was beginning to sit up. The unicorns were no longer writhing but appeared unconscious.

Without thinking about it at the time, Delia noticed the thing—hearing another noise—that may very well have had ponies keeping shy of the area.

What Delia saw floored her and she knew at once what they’d stumbled across, at the edge of town.

Close by—to the east, Delia figured, noting the sun—a large, crude metal altar had been set up. Upon it were the horribly charred bodies of five unicorn ponies: a stallion, a mare, and three colts, all with horns broken. They were chained—neck, trunk, and legs—to the metal frame, bodies adhering to the grates upon which they lay. Delia realized quickly the altar was a grill. Below it was the long burnt-out pile of cinders of the bonfire that had cooked the family alive.

And not far from the base, on the city-side of the altar, was a little unicorn filly.

She was emaciated, burned, and chained to a post by the neck; her horn was also broken.

And she was still alive, her wide eyes glassy.

Delia felt as if she’d been punched in the throat. She felt a strange flow of energy coursing through her body; it felt as electricity.

Not noticing her three conscious friends regaining their wits, seeing the same horrific sight she was taking in, Delia’s body seemed to move on its own, bringing her to the filly.

Still on autopilot, Delia knelt next to the filly. Her eyes and brain still not quite making the connection, she reached out and touched the filly’s broken body.

The little one’s ribs stuck out at odd angles; she’d been beaten... and broken.

Patchy flesh shown and cuts covered her neck; she’d been struggling against the chain, trying to reach her family as they burned, already long past.

Her lips were raw; judging by the dried-up puddles she hadn’t had a drink in a couple days.

The rain and elements had washed away the blood and semen, but Delia recognized the signs easily enough; the little one had been violated… brutally raped.

Finally, more aware of what she was doing, Delia worked a hoof under the little one’s head and lifted it, carefully propping her up; her body was already stiffening up, as close to death as she was. Delia stared into the eyes of the little one, not even convinced she was actually alive anymore.

Behind Delia, Ama, Loress, and Wilka had realized the situation. Loress stared at Delia, holding the filly, slack-jawed in horror, as Wilka clung to her and sobbed into her shoulder. Ama’s eyes widened and she fell to her knees, unable to support herself; she let out a single gasping sob, before hanging her head and covering her sounds with her hooves, quaking.

But Delia didn’t notice; her eyes were on the filly alone. Reaching for her canteen, she opened it and trickled a bit of water into the filly’s face.

The filly’s eyes, sticky and glazed over, cleared; after a few seconds she blinked. Delia saw awareness creep back into them. Delia gave her a drink of the water and the filly licked her chapped lips.

For the rest of her life, Delia wouldn’t be sure if she’d made the right decision. The little filly had been on the way out of this life and Delia brought alertness to her final moments.

The filly’s eyes widened again, and she returned Dechaa’s stare.

And in her eyes, Delia saw a brokenness she’d never see again, nor would she ever forget it.

The filly whimpered, too weak to move, and she cried.

Delia held her close, her own eyes beginning to stream; she’d felt little more than shock until that point and had had no tears to shed.

Loress felt faint, her own eyes heating up, taking in the sight of Delia and the filly. Ama and Wilka had turned away, unable to take anymore.

It only took another moment. The whimpers came more quietly, and the breathing slowed. Delia saw the filly’s tears—her final tears—leak from the corners of her eyes; she had no idea if they were tears… it may have simply been the water Delia had introduced.

And Delia was sure—surer than she’d ever been of anything—that the filly was finally at peace.

Barely able to keep her hooves steady, she closed the filly’s eyes. Setting her down, Delia backed away. Her body felt heavy and she fell to her rump, still staring at the dead filly.

For more than a few seconds the four mares were silent, their two unicorn friends catatonic behind them.

Loress was the one to break the silence; she looked about nervously, “Girls… we have to go…”

The words didn’t really register but the next thing they heard certainly did.

“You’re not going anywhere…” a voice came from somewhere behind them.

The girls looked back and saw quite a few ponies emerging from the city’s edge.

As cockroaches coming out of woodwork, more and more ponies began to appear. They came from doorways, alleyways, and even rooftops.

The sudden attendance alarmed the portion of the company more than anything and the four mares backed up, perhaps closer than they wished to the gruesome display. Their unicorn companions now lay directly in front of them.

Delia looked around; they were surrounded on three sides. In the eyes of the townsponies she saw a desperation… and she could surmise why. Here were six outsiders… outsiders that had seen the ugly thing at the edge of their town. And what happened across the entire country the last time outsiders appeared?

The former maid knew the answer: they were detained… all but one… all but Hagano. And that wound up being rather Hellish for Salvatrix.

Yes, it was easy to figure out why the ponies coming out from the edge of the city looked so resolute. None of them would tolerate to see anypony unfamiliar running free… or escaping.

Ama was broken up—worse than Delia thought possible, Loress appeared petrified despite her power—she was shaken, and Wilka was all but worthless.

Delia knew it was on her, seeing her friends crumbling—not that she blamed them; she bristled and addressed the growing crowd, moving between them and the unicorns on the ground, “Move…!”

There was no discussion to be had, no reasoning, and no compromise; Delia knew this, but she’d wait to actually issue a threat. Her friends weren’t at 100% that moment.

A stallion—Delia was unsure if he was the one whose voice they’d heard—sparked his horn, “Outsiders… surrender or die.”

Author's Note

Check out the Appendix for Princess Essenta, updated as the story moves along. It shows the story's timeline and character designs. Contains spoilers.

Landing back at the place they'd just left the girls have discovered one of the darkest secrets Ama and Delia had wished to keep from them.

Now, with their two unicorns out-of-commission and desperate ponies ready to bar their path out, Ama, Loress, Wilka, and Delia have a difficult time ahead of them.

If you enjoy Princess Essenta, please take a look at Larkspur Blossom. A story of a colt finding his worth and making a better life for himself.

Also, look for The Virgin Company. A tale of a military pony and his platoon in a war centuries ago.

And if you're up for something less tasteful, check out my one-shot.

Like, follow, or leave a comment if you please. It's been fun writing and I'm glad some enjoy it.

Thanks for reading, and take care.

Chapter 49: Overkill

Wicked World Arc

Delia’s eyes darted about.

Behind her was part of the fractured company, the two unicorns incapacitated and Ama, Loress, and Wilka badly shaken. And further behind was the murdered unicorn family of whom had been made an example by Nuinhof’s stallions in service to the new government.

Before her stood several dozen ponies, looking as afraid as they looked unyielding. Delia again recalled what Cassia had told her: outsiders and escapees would not be tolerated running free… not after what happened when Hagano the pirate escaped the country.

The stallion that had addressed her seconds before pawed at the ground, snorting loudly, “I don’t know who you are or where you just appeared from, but I say again… Surrender now or face death.”

A lot could be assumed—for what it was worth—just by looking around. Delia could tell none of these were the stallions monitoring the city… They’d already be set upon, dead, or captured if that was the case.

Yes… For some reason only regular townsponies were out and about that morning… still... which was odd considering lunch wasn’t far off. The “squealer” certainly knew something unwelcome—her group—had appeared out of nowhere and had seen what lay at the edge of town. Maybe the stallions were as lazy and worthless as Cassia had described… but they’d likely be there in a few moments, with the commotion and the near-certainty the “squealer” would alert or had already alerted them.

She had perhaps a minute to get herself and her five friends out of there... but what could a little Earth pony mare do against a mob?!

A great deal, maybe.

Surrender or die?

Then and there, Delia determined they would do neither. They wouldn’t surrender—to be murdered or put into bondage—or straight-up die at the hooves of the citizens of Nuinhof, then and there.

Delia had an idea—a fucking crazy idea that was both untested in current company and a life/death gamble—and realized she needed to stall; she needed to get her friends up and running again. She didn’t like the method of filibustering—at all—but thought she might have a chance with stirring up their plainly ragged emotions. It was worth trying and she gave them a mask of tragedy.

“Why?!” Delia strangled out.

This wasn’t what the townsponies expected to hear—not at all—and it bought Delia a few seconds.

Delia saw she’d caught them off-guard, “Why’d you do it?!”

The murmuring heard from the crowd silenced; they all looked about. What was this filly going on about?!

The stallion that had been addressing her cocked his head, “What in the Hell are you saying, kid?!”

He and a few others didn’t know what to make of Delia; perhaps she was crazy.

“You ask ‘what’?!” Delia spoke to the stallion and the crowd overall, forcing anger and sadness into her voice, backing up closer to Dechaa and Zyra, “I’ve seen what you all do to travelers that you get ahold of… Murderers! What is it this family did to deserve being cooked alive…?!”

The shocked lack of response could be felt from the ponies facing the company; they were jarred by Delia’s words.

The former maid knew her idea was working; shocking them into hesitance and carelessness was her best bet. She remembered all the dirty tricks her dad taught her, all she learned under Melchior, and all the things she’d come up with or discovered herself… Ponies were easy to manipulate; she hated herself for the hurt in the eyes of the townsponies but… Hell, she wasn’t dying for these assholes or going into slavery again… and neither were her friends.

“Which of you animals raped that filly?!” she cried out, lunging forward and managing actual tears.

If the crowd looked hurt before, they were wounded at that. Granting her a few seconds, Delia glanced back. She saw Ama was regaining her wits… But Loress and Wilka were still worthless. She needed at least Ama and Loress to recover their senses.

A mare near the front of the crowd goggled at Delia, unable to register what she was hearing, “What did you say…?”

Delia’s sobs came easily enough—she wasn’t entirely acting, “How many days did you have her chained up out here…?! Raped and beaten! How many weeks?!”

Another stallion was flabbergasted, “You… How dare you-?!”

“You animals!” Delia screeched to the aghast ponies. “Could you stand the smell?! I bet an east wind had you puking your guts out!”

The mob gave a gasp at that; the harshness in Delia’s voice further set them off-kilter.

The former maid cautiously moved towards Dechaa, unsure how much longer she could keep the ponies at bay. Glancing back another time, she was relieved to see Ama sharp-eyed again; she waved a hoof—a barely noticeable gesture—and Ama returned another.

Delia kept going, now cradling Dechaa, feigning tending to her friend, “How many of you took turns raping that filly?! Was it before or after you burnt her family alive on that pyre?!”

The ponies actually shouted in protest at the latest line; a mare stood forward, “We didn’t do this, you little cunt!”

Delia heard others; they were upset, but not ready—yet—to attack.

“We loved this family!”

“None of us did this!”

Yes… Delia saw opportunity rising. Hating herself even more, seeing the town so offended by her words, she wouldn’t let up. The gamble hadn’t failed yet, but it was wearing thin.

Glancing back, she saw that Ama had roused Loress. Wilka wasn’t all there, but it was good enough. The girls had never discussed “silent signals for getting out of sticky situations” but Delia figured Ama and Loress—one or both—would get her meaning.

Delia waved her tail towards the southwest; that was the direction they’d run. Nuinhof was nestled in the jungle on three sides: north, south, and west… The eastern part of the city gave way to fields and orchards.

To the now-furious crowd—probably close to blowing up on her—Delia again addressed them; she had to trust her friends would understand, “So what about the smell?! If you didn’t notice it, you must’ve seen or heard it! Don't you have eyes or ears? Did you cover them up?!”

In the crowd, numerous sparking horns could be seen; they were just about at the breaking point.

“What do you know?!”

“You asshole!”

Delia saw her window was close; she slowly turned Dechaa’s head towards the center of the crowd.

More could be heard.

A crying foal pronounced, “Eirene was my friend!”

“Don’t talk like you understand!” screamed another.

Bracing a foreleg behind Dechaa’s head, Delia spat, “I understand plenty…!”

Delia understood a lot about anatomy… and how to manipulate the body. Not only could one suppress a unicorn’s magic… one could send out an uncontrolled blast of it. All it took was prodding the correct nerve.

Shutting her eyes and putting her free foreleg over her ears, Delia bit down hard near the base of Dechaa’s neck, still bracing the head. There was no way of guessing the level of power this might unleash.

Delia hadn’t been sure what Dechaa might produce, given such prodding. She suspected Zyra would produce some sort of flame; unicorns usually gave off the sort of magic that came most naturally to them when goosed in such a way.

Delia’s hope was Dechaa would give off something in the vein of healing magic—maybe overwhelm the crowd with “calm”, temporarily turning their brains to mush or sedating them so they could escape without hurting anypony too badly. Whatever, she’d figured it would manifest itself brightly or loudly which is why the girls protected their eyes and ears.

But Delia couldn’t have been much more wrong about Dechaa’s forte. The healer was highly skilled—one of the best—with medicinal magic... In all fairness, most would never assume her true talents lay in concussive magic.

CRACK!

Dechaa sent out such an incredible amount of energy, it lifted both her and Delia from the ground, sending them back several yards, almost bowling over their companions.

The sound was incredible, shattering windows for blocks and blocks. The force of the concussion was incredible, bending steel and fragmenting stone and brickwork. Fissures appeared in the ground and the city shook.

It was a good thing Ama and Loress had protected their own heads—and Wilka’s. The fact Zyra lay directly beneath the source of the blast saved her. Hopefully, Dechaa’s own magic wouldn’t break her.

The same couldn’t be said for the ponies facing them. The blast wrecked them.

Of those outside of the direct path of energy, all were stunned… many suffered ruptured eardrums… some saw their eyes blown from their sockets.

Those in the path were killed instantly, hit by the unbelievable whock of power. Their bodies crumpled and many burst open or saw hide peeled away from flesh due to the shock.

At least half the crowd was dead. Others lay, shattered, screaming…

Delia was stunned a few seconds, but Ama and Loress were ready. Fully aware of the horrors just unleashed, neither mare would see the opportunity pass; they were shocked enough they managed to let what had just happened slide.

Ama tossed Wilka over her back and Loress hauled Delia to her hooves.

Delia shouted in her excitement, “Loress! Grab Dechaa! I got Zyra!”

And it was so.

The three mares ran west, into the city, determining it was better than immediately entering the jungle—they needed something.

The “something” was quickly found: a wagon.

Less than 30 seconds had passed since their “flash-bang” getaway.

“Ama, hitch up!” Delia ordered, tipping a few jugs of milk to the road. “Loress, help me with the girls!”

Wilka was fine… at least physically; they only had to guide her onto the wagon, but she wasn’t there mentally, having checked out. The unicorns were still deadweight and needed to be heaved on. Delia, still a little wobbly from the blast, fleetingly hoped Dechaa’s neck was okay.

The former maid hopped aboard the wagon, holding the unicorns securely, “Ama, you pull. Loress… take point; it’s not far back onto the trail we took in if we enter that small path straight ahead!”

Ama and Loress saw the path: it was well past the western edge of town.

Delia had taken in the layout of the city. She knew pulling a wagon south of the city wasn’t safe. She recalled a swamp was there; the swamp hadn’t been on her mind, moments earlier, in her desperate plan to escape.

This meant they had to escape through the city… and it was more than a few blocks to the jungle.

And the city knew they were there.

Author's Note

Check out the Appendix for Princess Essenta, updated as the story moves along. It shows the story's timeline and character designs. Contains spoilers.

A short chapter, yes, but I couldn't find a better place to break up a longer chapter upon editing.

Delia, having taken up the mantle of leadership, feels the repercussions of untested magic weighing on her. But for now, she must guide Ama and Loress to safety.

If you enjoy Princess Essenta, please take a look at Larkspur Blossom. A story of a colt finding his worth and making a better life for himself.

Also, look for The Virgin Company. A tale of a military pony and his platoon in a war centuries ago.

And if you're up for something less tasteful, check out my one-shot.

Like, follow, or leave a comment if you please. It's been fun writing and I'm glad some enjoy it.

Thanks for reading, and take care.

Chapter 50: Escape

Wicked World Arc

Delia shoved the still-dazed Wilka to the floor of the little wagon they’d stolen; the Pegasus wasn’t cooperating, unwilling or unable to lie down in her stupor. Dechaa and Zyra were out like lights; the last sensation felt off the dying filly had put them down… and Delia prayed to Heaven that she hadn’t just broken Dechaa’s neck with her outrageous stunt, not that carrying her so roughly would've done much good.

The destruction unleashed upon their would-be captors/murderers and their forsaken city wasn’t lost on the former maid… it had happened only a moment earlier. Their own lives were simply more pressing to her.

“Whatever happens, don’t stop!” Delia cried, already seeing bolts of magic sent towards and after them; the city’s ponies weren’t going to let them escape… easily.

Ama and Loress didn’t need telling twice; they knew all six of their lives depended on getting clear of Nuinhof.

Loress knew her task: clear a path for Ama, if needed, as the Mazan followed her.

Ama knew her task: pull the wagon… and keep running.

Delia felt a bolt singe her left ear; looking up she saw unicorns were starting to appear at windows, firing their horns. She knew it would take moments to reach the jungle—where they’d be a lot safer than in the city—but getting there wouldn’t be easy.

She wasn’t worried about the Earth ponies attacking them; unless many jumped to the cart, she’d be able to fend them off. Pegasi—now appearing—were less of a worry than the magic flying at them; unless the Pegasi started dropping rocks on them, Delia would ignore them.

Things were getting hairy: the unicorns weren’t very talented but there were enough of them.

“Yowch!” cried Delia.

A bolt had grazed her rump, burning an impressive hole in her stolen dress; the smell of burning hair and flesh filled her nostrils.

“Delia!” Ama turned her frightened eyes back. “Are you hurt?!”

Delia was hurt; it was a bad burn, “Keep running!”

Crash!

Perhaps Delia should’ve been worried about the Pegasi; one had just dropped into the cart. Seeing Delia injured, one took a chance at getting close.

The son-of-a-bitch was trying to grab Zyra…! And two more were bearing down. It then occured to Delia the townsfolk were hoping to take them alive; this scared her more than if they'd just wanted to kill them.

Delia ducked down, bracing her front legs across all three mares vegetating in the wagon; she screamed, “Ama! Hard left!”

Ama juked hard, bringing the cart onto two wheels. Delia held on and was satisfied to see one Pegasus crash into the ground, unable to stop. The other managed to level off.

“Got ya!” cried out the Pegasus stallion in the cart; he’d managed to not fall out and began to wrap hooves around Zyra.

CRRRUNNCH-CRRRACK!

Delia slugged him with such force it shattered his muzzle. He visibly staggered and fell back from Zyra, landing on his rump. Giving no second thought to it, Delia hoofed each side of his broken face and twisted.

Snap!

Delia felt a thrill of sickness course through her body; she’d broken his neck. The jerk of her front legs sent the Pegasus toppling limply out of the cart. His body was trampled beneath the hooves of the pursuing crowd, which was growing.

She didn’t even think about it then but that was the first time she’d killed another pony with her own two hooves. What she'd done through Dechaa was the first time.

“Ama! Keep zig-zagging!” Delia was now lying on her back; she mule-kicked another Pegasus—a mare this time—that had landed on the cart.

“Keep what?!” Ama’s gaze was fleeting as she tried to keep eyes forward.

Delia answered in one word, “EVADE!”

Ama knew that word; Delia had to hold on tight, bracing herself and the others as Ama jolted to the right as much as she dared. Another two Pegasi crashed into the ground, with one getting rolled under the cart’s wheels.

Delia heard—and felt—the crunch but didn’t see it.

“YEEEEEAAARRRRRGH!”

The noise came from the front.

Delia had almost forgotten about the Terran, but now saw ponies thrown to the gutters and against the sides of the buildings on the street, seemingly flying away from both sides of the wagon. Loress had run into ponies blocking the road; she rammed through them as if they were paper.

“Fucking move!” Loress bellowed, sending somepony spinning through the air like a ragdoll.

Yes… Loress! Delia knew it wasn’t much of an idea, but with limited space the Pegasi would only keep landing on the cart… and the unicorns would have an easier target.

Delia knew they had to open up their path a little wider.

“Loress! Try to clear a wider berth!” Delia hollered.

The former maid—and Ama—had no idea what Loress might do… It was a desperate cry.

Loress knew… She knew she was strong. She knew she had her own dangerous idea. It might have been worse than Delia’s "magic trick", nipping Dechaa’s neck.

“Can you make fire?!” Loress asked, not even close to being winded.

Delia ducked another magic bolt; it was getting harder with so many. Delia thought and at once knew it might be possible. And Loress knew the former maid always kept a flint on hoof.

“MAYBE!” she cried back.

“Just ‘MAYBE’?” Loress shrieked.

“Yes! I can!” Delia determined; she was looking to the ponies that continued to appear at windows above them, firing off their horns.

That was good enough for Loress, “Give me 15 seconds! Get something ready!”

With that, Loress shifted right. Raising up on her back legs she hoofed and snapped a lamppost. Delia knew at once what Loress was thinking… she’d thought of a way to deal with the nuisances up front... and behind them.

Delia began to fumble with her flint; she only caught a glimpse of it, but saw Loress level the post, holding it across her front, bracing with one leg and her shoulder.

Now ponies really started flying, clotheslined by the hollow metal rod. Other lampposts were snapped off with the wide reach of Loress’s makeshift plow; the stink of oil quickly filled the air.

Delia realized the other part of Loress’s plan… seemed suicidal. She even noticed the ponies shooting from behind were no longer shooting at them, at least not with fire-based magic; they knew what was going on, with the fuel permeating the street.

Ama dodged around the fallen bodies, knowing hitting too many could slow them up or upset the cart. But the ponies in the path seemed to get the message; many ducked or ran out of the way.

Delia could hear the snap, snap, snap of the lampposts. Tearing off a strip from her dress, she prepared the flint. She knew wool didn’t burn so well, but that was okay. Dechaa had accepted a small gift from Cassia: a small bottle of whiskey lay in the folds of Dechaa’s dress. It would work well enough.

Loress shouted something, but Delia couldn’t hear it.

“What?!” Delia called out.

Ama answered, “Loress will hit road center in 10 seconds! Be ready!”

Delia knew what was going on. Loress would stop knocking the caps from the lighting system, giving them the space needed and allowing Delia to “safely” ignite the street.

She tried. Uncorking the bottle, she soaked the strip of fabric, re-corked the bottle, and tied the rag to the neck. She’d never tasted whiskey before; it had her spitting.

7…

6…

Yes! Delia smiled; it would work. She just had to strike the flint. She positioned the bottle, and…

JOLT!

The cart bucked as Ama hit a pothole. As if in slow-motion, Delia saw the makeshift bomb bounce out of the cart.

Fuck…!

4…

Delia looked to Zyra.

3…

Delia grimaced; it was worth a try…

2…

Delia yanked Zyra to the back of the cart and positioned the mage’s head. Bracing a leg behind Zyra’s neck, Delia aimed.

1…

It worked with Dechaa… Delia figured; maybe it would work with Zyra…

She only hoped Zyra’s affinity truly was fire.

Still... What's the worst that could happen? Delia felt they might die no matter what she did.

0…

Delia could see that Loress had let up off the lampposts. Seeing a couple had passed her vision, she gave a quick nip at the base of Zyra’s neck—as opposed to the chomp she’d given Dechaa’s.

PWOOF!

As it turned out, Zyra’s true calling was fire. She produced a small fireball, that promptly shot towards the end of the broken gas line. The small and brief stimulation had been enough—though Delia would worry about the bite/output ratio another time. The blast had been as gentle as a child’s firework; Delia hadn’t even felt it.

Ducking, Delia only hoped—as she pulled Zyra down—that this wouldn’t kill all six of them… her and her friends.

BOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOM!

The city shook, and Delia felt the shockwave roll right through her. Ama yelped, debris blasting in all directions. Loress almost jumped; she hadn’t expected such a cacophony.

But the cart kept moving.

Delia dared open her eyes.

“Holy… shit…” the former maid breathed.

The road behind them was engulfed in flame. She couldn’t see for all the smoke and fire, but she could hear the inferno traveling through the city… Following the path of fumes Loress had released into the air, more explosions were evident as the fire spread.

Loress kept running, barely glancing back. Ama didn’t dare look back; she was both concentrating on the road and was aghast. Delia was the only one to get a good look.

The fire had ruptured other lines and Delia could see plumes and columns of fire erupting around the city. It didn’t take long to travel and before long… there likely wouldn’t be much city left.

None of the girls had even thought about it, but their attackers had stopped… either shocked into hiding or killed outright in the explosion.

Too numb to feel much of anything, much less think about the havoc they’d just unleashed, Delia fell to her back, keeping hold of the three riding with her.

The cart jostled as they continued their run out of the city. They met no further resistance as they hit the limits and soon entered the forest.

Sometime later, Loress had led them back to the main road. She found she had to stop for a time, mentally unable to continue.

Ama was inconsolable; having had a few minutes to think about what had just transpired she collapsed as soon as they were “safe”. She lay next to a tree, crying…

“What have we done…?” was a line Delia heard from her more than once.

Loress wasn’t hearing much; she was in danger of entering the same territory as Wilka's previous catatonic state, who was now—astonishingly—sleeping soundly. The Terran fell to her rump, staring vacantly back the way they’d come.

Despite being well into the jungle, they could see the smoke rising from Nuinhof through gaps in the canopy.

The unicorns were still unconscious; Delia was glad to say Dechaa’s neck was fine, but she’d have one mean motherfucker of an ache upon waking.

Speaking of Delia, she’d had a little more time to think on their most recent actions. She’d been the one to “pull the trigger”… and she’d not imagined the cataclysm that had unfolded.

She knew what they’d—what she’d—just done and was trying to wrap her mind around it. Feeling a rush of horror, she puked up all she’d had for brunch. Coughing violently, her feelings came unpleasantly.

Yes… She’d killed somepony… She’d snapped his neck and sent him to be trampled. She’d killed him… and many others. How many...? They were dead... They were... dead...!

Feeling and hearing a sob rising in her throat, her eyes felt hot and her vision blurred. Blinking hard she tried to get a hold of herself.

None too steadily, Delia made her way to her hooves.

“We can’t stay here!” she choked out.

It was unsurprising nopony responded; the other girls were done. Delia had said it without giving it much forethought. But she was right… It was a fact the country’s border was being guarded and they weren’t far off from the edge of it. And even at full strength, meeting the Salvatrix regular army wasn’t high on the bucket list. Considering her two strongest friends had tipped off the edge of reason and the rest were useless gave her even less motivation to make such an encounter.

They couldn’t afford to encounter anypony… not until they met up with Essenta and Orni out on the prairie. And they were the only other ponies Delia cared to see.

Essenta and Orni… Delia’s mind swam.

They hadn’t been in contact with the princess since the night before! Was she all right? Was Orni all right?!

Delia shook her head… No…

Essenta was tough… Orni was a Knollwing—and a proper one, with all their legendary might. With the sometimes-mature Essenta’s wits… and the wet-behind-the-ears Orni’s strength… they at least stood a chance.

Further clearing her mind, Delia tried to rouse her friends. It wasn’t easy, but she managed to coax Loress to the cart.

The cart strained under her added weight.

Ama was more difficult; she was broken… Delia could see it. She’d stopped weeping so intensely but had no will to stand up or cooperate.

But Delia was strong herself and Ama didn’t refuse. The cart further strained under Ama’s sway.

Delia harnessed up. She wasn’t overly concerned about the cart: carts were made to carry heavy things. She was more worried about her friends: they were her friends. But there wasn’t much to be done other than move.

It was difficult starting but once she was moving, it went more smoothly. The road was level and the path was clear.

Pushing unnecessary thoughts from her mind, Delia couldn’t quite manage a trot but walked steadily.

All that mattered was moving quickly and getting clear of the country… That she could possibly manage.

The thing out of her control was the environment. And there were more dangerous things out there than lions, tigers, and bears… and whatever the fuck else resided in the jungle. Soldiers would be looking for them.

Keeping alert, Delia kept going. Not far off was the barrier… and her responsibility to her leader.

She didn’t look forward to having to tell Essenta all that had transpired.

Author's Note

Check out the Appendix for Princess Essenta, updated as the story moves along. It shows the story's timeline and character designs. Contains spoilers.

Taking another deadly risk, Delia has seen the six of them out of the city. Coming to terms with things will not be easy for her, Ama, and Loress.

If you enjoy Princess Essenta, please take a look at Larkspur Blossom. A story of a colt finding his worth and making a better life for himself.

Also, look for The Virgin Company. A tale of a military pony and his platoon in a war centuries ago.

And if you're up for something less tasteful, check out my one-shot.

Like, follow, or leave a comment if you please. It's been fun writing and I'm glad some enjoy it.

Thanks for reading, and take care.

Chapter 51: Expounded Horror

Antecedence Arc

The Princess of the Dale was in better spirits than she may have been. She and Orni had completed preparations for their journey back across the desert.

It had been quite a time, considering the last 24-hours… A lot of fear… and uncertainty. But Essenta had made reliable and strong friends. Ama’s steadfastness had saved her from despair and she had faith in the others… particularly Delia.

Yes, things had been scary.

But Dechaa and Delia were alright… Ama found the others and was most confident she would be able to lead them out of the jungle. It was only a matter of time before the six mares rejoined her and Orni.

With their tasks done there wasn’t much to do. They were well away from the bordering jungle, having pulled back onto the savanna; while they had a good lay of the land they were protected. Orni was keeping an eye out for things, having relieved Essenta an hour earlier; they’d been watching out for anything… friends or trouble.

Currently the princess sat in the shade of their wagon, munching on an orange. They had enough fresh fruit to give an entire garrison of soldiers the trots so she and Orni saw no harm in enjoying some of what they didn’t preserve.

It was pleasant out… The fog had lifted, and it was agreeably warm. It wasn’t bad… the jungle noises… once one was able to ignore them. Still, if she ever got ahold of one of those howler monkeys, she’d pull out its voice-box and shove it knee-deep up the simian’s fetid asshole… and laugh as it tried to shit it back out… if she didn’t—by some small miracle—perforate its worthless viscera while stowing the offending object… or ramming her hoof down the animal’s throat in the first place. Unicorns were lucky; they could pull off such an act without undue damage.

Yeah… I could sell tickets…

Essenta was near dozing. A little nap might be nice…

Closing her eyes, she-

BOOOOOOOOOOOOOOM!

Essenta bolted upright; looking around wildly, she cried, “What the fuck was that?!”

The sound had been far-off but unmistakable; the jungle came alive with the cries of its inhabitants, birds flying from the canopies. Darting her eyes about, she spotted Orni.

The little mare couldn’t answer the princess’s question, but she could see, “…!”

The cyan Knollwing stood quaking, eyes locked on the direction of the noise; not a few seconds after the blast, inky-black smoke began to drift up several miles into the jungle.

Essenta had been startled; now she was alarmed, “Oh, God…”

Later...

Thunder rumbled over Salvatrix; a considerable storm was brewing.

Delia had no way of knowing but she’d been dragging the cart for two hours. Slogging through the jungle she was quickly falling into delirium.

While prepared for the planned trek out of the country, such preparations fell through like a Terran on thin ice.

Delia still had the sacks of supplies she and Dechaa obtained but they’d lost most of their water. Delia had had two canteens, and both were now empty. Not only had she had her share—trying to keep herself up and moving, she was concerned about the others. There enough mentally to take water, she’d seen the girls drink a little.

Hauling the cart with her five friends was taxing; it was a job better suited to two healthy stallions. But the former maid kept pulling. She’d had a lick of salt a bit earlier and finished off the last canteen… and she was on the verge of collapse.

Not even thinking anymore, moving as a machine, she kept going, putting one hoof in front of the other. Hell… her vision had even gone; she was just walking.

It was only a matter of time before…

Delia!

Huh…? Delia groaned.

Delia, stop!

Fuck off… the messy-maned mare grumbled to the air. I’m going… somewhere.

Again, the voice came, Delia!

Meh…

Orni! Get the bucket!

Another voice joined, Really?! After all the trouble it was to get it?!

We have plenty… and before long we’ll have more water than we’ll know what to do with!

I told you…! Fuck off! Delia flailed her legs at some unseen foe.

Splash!

Delia gasped at the cold water. She screamed and felt hooves restrain her. Another hoof covered her mouth.

“Delia! Calm down!”

Delia croaked, “Huh…?”

The covert custodian felt herself put on her side.

“Hold still!” said the voice again.

Not really by choice but out of necessity, Delia quit struggling; she hadn’t the energy.

Then Delia felt something at her lips… Water!

“Slow down…”

Delia smacked her lips; the canteen water was pleasantly sweet… with a pinch of salt.

More fresh water—this time more gently—was used to wash her face.

Delia’s vision cleared some, but it was still pretty fuzzy, “Essenta…?”

The princess’s worried, tearful face came sharper to her.

“Yes, Delia… I’m here…”

Then all faded to black.

…

Rumble… Rumble… Rumble…

Ke-rack!

Delia’s eyes flew open; it was dark, other than the continuous lightning making its brightness known. Eying her surroundings—or apparent lack of such—she rolled over, a nest of blankets under her.

Yipe!

Just moving hurt… Everything hurt!

Coming to rest on her back, she smacked her lips, which felt dry. She sure was thirsty; she had a terrible, cottony wad of nothing gumming up her mouth.

Thunder boomed and lightning flashed as a shadow moved in, “Delia…?”

Delia knew the voice; she breathed, “Orni…?”

A sigh was heard, “Good… you’re awake.”

Another rumble of lightning had Delia twitch; she’d figured out sudden movements hurt so she limited any movement, “Got any water?”

Her voice discernable over the rain, she answered, “Plenty…”

Orni sat Delia up in the darkness. Remembering their dealings with thirst in the past, she fussed over her friend, “Go slow…”

Delia did so and lay back, “Where are we?”

Orni hesitated, “… We’re a couple miles out onto the savanna. We packed up and moved this afternoon. We found this rock formation… It’s not great but it’s dry.”

Delia’s mind had been hazy, but it was coming back, “How long have I been out?”

Again, Orni hesitated, “… Since afternoon… It’s late.”

Now Delia remembered… kind of, “Where is everypony?! What happened?!”

Orni pressed Delia back to her blankets, shushing her, “Everypony’s here… They’re safe… You’re safe.”

Safe…?

“You did it, Delia,” Orni put her hooves on her friend’s shoulders. “You got everypony out. Good job.”

Delia further recalled her day; she didn’t remember leaving the jungle, “Where did you find us?”

“You’d almost made it to our old camp,” a third voice was heard.

“Essenta!” Orni jumped.

“Essenta…?” Delia mumbled. “I did what…?”

The princess entered the light; her eyes were dulled with fatigue, “We saw you come out of the jungle… pulling a little wagon… with the girls piled on it…”

Her voice had an edge to it.

Delia was fuzzy. Had she?

Instead of pursuing that, Delia had another question, “Where’s camp?”

The question didn’t mean much; Delia was muddled.

Essenta strode over with purpose.

Orni hoofed Essenta, “Essenta… now’s not the time.”

“I think it is. Let go.”

Orni heard the rising irritation in her friend’s voice, “Essenta… please…”

The princess’s voice came sharp… uncharacteristically so, “Shut up…! I’ve been waiting half the day!”

Delia wasn’t good for much, but she came in, “Waiting for what…?”

Essenta had gone from relatively calm to snapped-off pissed in seconds, “For ‘what’?!”

Delia felt hooves roughly grab her and haul her to her hooves.

“Essenta!” Orni cried. “She just woke up!”

The princess wasn’t listening; she dragged Delia through an opening in the rocks. Fleetingly, in the better light of a lantern, Delia saw five ponies wrapped in blankets, strewn about the ground.

“Essenta!” Orni hissed. “You’ll wake them up!”

Essenta still wasn’t listening, “Get the lantern, Orni!”

Delia was able to walk, some, but mostly she was just hauled along; she moaned in weak protest, “Hey…! Quit it…!”

Coming out to an apparent vestibule in the formation, Essenta tossed Delia to the ground, where she landed on a scrubby bed of grass. Just outside of the drip-line it was pouring rain.

Orni followed, dutifully carrying the lantern, “Essenta! Stop! I know you’re upset, but-”

“Fuck your ‘but’s’!” Essenta spat. “I’ve waited too long already.”

Delia lay in the grass; she was just about all there and getting upset herself, “Okay…! What is it, man?!”

Essenta took the lantern from Orni and directed it in a chosen way, “You need to explain this!”

Orni looked on unhappily as light was shed on the subject.

Delia blinked.

Before her was a cart… and… Yes, it was hers—or at least she’d pulled it. Next to the cart were a few tunics and a couple dresses laid out.

It was all a mess.

The cart was charred… bloody… in shambles, really. Delia was amazed it had made any trip, as it looked good for firewood and little else.

Her friends’ clothes were burnt, filthy from gas and oil and other grime, singed, and in tatters…

Looking down at herself, she looked the same.

She looked like Hell.

Noting blood on her hooves she could then smell herself; it was awful. The burning flesh smell was no longer evident but that of burning hair and wool was. Taking note of a heavier stink and an unpleasant weight, she realized she’d soiled herself; there was no telling when it may have happened.

She began to quake.

Essenta’s voice cut in, jarring Delia from her surfacing horror, “We didn’t bother cleaning you up; we knew you were dead on your hooves and all you needed was to sleep… Once we gave you a little mineralized water, we let you do that. Even the others could stand on their own for a wash.”

Delia heard all this but began to shake more violently… and not from the cold; it was still warm out, even in the middle of the night.

Essenta went on, “Now… I need to know what happened.”

Orni realized the anger in Essenta’s voice was fading; the princess was mainly scared… and she couldn’t blame her.

Still, Orni tried to dissuade her leader, “Essenta… try to calm down. Now’s not the time to-”

Essenta screeched, rounding on the Knollwing, “I don’t give a fuck what you think! No more!”

And all this time, the former maid’s memories of the terrible day were only still flooding back.

Delia, too feeble to resist, felt herself dragged to her hooves.

“What happened?!” Essenta was face to face with the other Earth pony. “What in the fuck happened out there?!”

Delia felt her eyes heat up, a whimper building in her throat. Looking over Essenta’s shoulder, she again noticed the blood on the cart; it was unmistakable, even in the low light.

Essenta shook her, barely waiting more than a few seconds, “Say something!”

Delia’s eyes flooded, and she murmured, “I… uh…”

“You ‘what’?!”

Delia began to cry, limp in Essenta’s grip.

Essenta shook her, “Out with it, you shit-smeared serf!”

Delia just cried harder; Essenta began doing so herself.

“What did you do to my friends?!” Essenta bawled in Delia’s face.

Delia only shied away, blubbering.

Orni jumped in, “Essenta!”

Delia fell over, no longer in Essenta’s grasp. In the low light she saw Orni struggling with the princess.

Orni was just a bit stronger, of course, and it didn’t last long.

Orni shoved Essenta towards the entrance, “E-nough! Go lie down, right now, or I’ll beat you ‘til you can’t stand up!”

Whether Orni would or wouldn’t do a thing, Essenta wasn’t cowed. But Essenta wasn’t stupid either—knowing well enough she would sling her ass if she was serious—and giving Orni a very dirty look, she slunk back inside.

Orni watched a moment and then turned to Delia, “Oh, dear!”

Delia was sobbing quietly, curled up in a ball. Little did Orni know, but she’d recalled the day, fully.

There wasn’t much else for Orni to do at the time; she grabbed some soap and a scrub brush they had.

Gently helping Delia to her hooves, Orni knew it would at least help, “Let’s get you out of those clothes and wash you up.”

Helping strip off the ragged dress, Orni then led Delia out into the rain. As she had with those that needed it, she washed her friend.

In the early light, Orni carefully wrapped Delia’s burnt rump.

Her mouth holding the corner of a bandage, she wasn’t the easiest to understand, “There… tha’ shoul’ do i’.”

“Thanks, Orni,” Delia winced as she lowered her fresh tunic; her bottom hurt something terrible.

Everything hurt… but it kept her mind off other things.

Orni looked tired; she’d been tending to the others most of the night, the only pony both mentally and physically able to do so. She’d tended to them all.

“It’s a pretty nasty burn but it looks worse than it is,” Orni sat down next to Delia.

Delia looked out from under their hiding spot. All she could see was mucky savanna; the storm the night before had saturated the land. She hoped it took care of any trail she may have left…

Orni hadn’t asked much about the day before but Delia knew she was anxious to know. The other girls were… out of sorts.

“I made sure to follow the instructions you gave… I gave Dechaa and Zyra another dose last night, after…”

After that ugly fiasco with Essenta… Delia thought unhappily.

Delia nodded, “Don’t give them anymore… They need to come out of it. By lunch… they’ll be among the living again.”

Orni nodded.

Delia couldn’t remember—at all—but she’d been adamant that Essenta and Orni lightly sedate the unicorns. Even as messed up as Delia was, she still thought of them before all else.

Delia shifted her weight; sitting on her rump hurt, “How are the others?”

Orni looked between her hooves, “Not great…”

Delia tried lying down; it wasn’t much better, “Not even Wilka?”

“Wilka said she doesn’t remember much… Otherwise she just lies there. She’s awake inside … if you want me to get her.”

Delia shook her head, “No… let her be… Ama? Loress?”

Orni sniffled, “Loress… isn’t much better off than Dechaa or Zyra… She just sits there.”

Delia rolled to one side, facing away from Orni; she couldn’t bear to see the little Knollwing cry… even after all the last day had held, “I’m guessing Ama’s still…”

And Orni did cry a little, “She’s sleeping… but… when she’s not sleeping, she’s sobbing,” Orni lamented. “I can’t get a thing out of her…”

This didn’t surprise Delia.

It wasn’t lost on Loress that it was her own idea that led to the second bit of chaos the day before. Yes, Delia had “pulled the trigger”—twice—but Loress had supplied the fuel for the second instance. No, it didn’t surprise her at all… that Loress had shut herself off.

And Ama… was devastated… simply and deeply. There was no better word for it. The arguably strongest heart among them—odd, given her peculiarities—was cracked.

And Wilka… Wilka was a kid. Sure, they were all kids, really, but Delia knew seeing that murdered family… the violated filly… had opened wounds none of them were ready to deal with—and that all of them weren’t even fully aware of. In a way, Wilka was fortunate if she didn’t remember all the things after that.

Delia thought back to their final escape… and the explosion that cleared their way out. She hadn’t seen it, at least the initial ignition. The second she knew the fireball was going to succeed in its brief journey, she’d ducked, trying to keep the other three girls in the wagon—and certainly herself—from whatever might have happened.

She hadn’t heard much, either… other than the discord of incredible noise brought on by the mixture of sludgy gas and flame.

All those ponies in Nuinhof…

Delia could picture it; she could hear it in her mind. The terror that must have been on their faces… and how brief that terror must have been for some… and how long it may have been for others… and the screams…

And now the city may well have been a ruin.

There was no telling just how much damage they’d caused in their desperate escape.

Swallowing down a batch of vomit threatening its way out, Delia quickly sat up; she’d had enough of getting sick.

“Delia!” Orni hoofed her.

Delia waved her off, desperate of anything else to talk about, “How’s Essenta?”

Orni faltered, “Uh… I, uh…”

Delia took a sip of canteen water, “Say it.”

Orni gulped, “Don’t be angry with her… I know what she said… but she’s upset… I’ve never seen her this shaken up. She’s just scared! Don’t look into what she said too much.”

That wasn’t what Delia meant. She knew Essenta was rattled—and badly—even though her problems didn’t hold a candle to the Hell the six in the jungle had been through. And she didn’t hold it against the princess for calling her a “shit-smeared serf”; she’d been just that some hours earlier.

“I know better than to worry about that, Orni… I mean, how is she?”

Orni looked relieved, “Well, I got her to sleep, earlier. She wanted to stay up, but I don’t think she could’ve if she’d tried. She hadn’t slept since yesterday morning.”

Delia nodded, “And when’s the last time you slept?”

Orni blinked heavily, “Yesterday morning…”

“Grab a blanket and lie down,” Delia said. “I can keep an eye out.”

Orni couldn’t hold back her enthusiasm for such a thing; but she tried, “I’m tired, but I can’t leave you up alone.”

Delia didn’t mean to be coy, “I won’t be…”

Orni hadn’t noticed but Delia had: Essenta stood at the entrance to the hollow.

“Essenta…!” Orni hissed. “You need sleep!”

“I’ve had a few hours. Do as Delia tells you.”

Orni slowly stood and paddled off.

Waiting a moment, Essenta sat down.

“How long have you been there?” Delia asked. “I didn’t hear you… Caught up in my own mind, I suppose.”

Essenta sat another moment, “I saw Orni rewrap your burn… It looked awful yesterday…”

Delia tried lying on her stomach, “Yeah… but you two did a good job cleaning it up… Thanks.”

“And we made sure to keep Dechaa on her back.”

Delia knew she’d also lectured the two that missed out on the fun about Dechaa’s neck, “Her neck’s fine… It’ll be sore no matter what we do…”

Essenta was itching to ask how it happened, but thought to wait, “I… know you forgive me but… still, I’m sorry.”

Delia heard the raw emotion in her friend’s voice.

“And I accept… Don’t let it cloud your thinking… We’ve all had a rough couple of days.”

Delia could forgive it as well as understand. Essenta had lashed out. Delia knew she was an easy target for it: not only was she the only one standing… she was new. Essenta’s actions were not pretty, not “leader-like”, but understandable from anypony. The last days had been fucked.

Essenta sighed, “I’m glad to hear it…”

Delia gave a crooked half-smile, “I’ve been called a million things… but never a ‘shit-smeared serf’…”

Essenta blushed a little, “Yeah… Can you walk?”

Delia gladly stood up, “It’s more comfortable than anything else…”

Essenta got to her hooves, “Okay… Let’s walk. I want to check around the openings.”

Delia followed Essenta. As it turned out there were three ways into the rock formation. Orni had treated Delia at the east one—their debatably most important watch-point—but they had another facing north—where they’d stored their wagon and supplies—and one facing west.

They didn’t talk until they hit the west opening. This was where the six sets of soiled clothes and the exhausted, stolen cart resided.

Essenta shifted uncomfortably, looking at the wreckage, “Orni and I got anything of value out… We made sure to check the clothes, too. We have all the ‘talk-rocks’… all the money.”

Delia tiredly stalked over and looked over the cart that had spirited them back to their original camp, “…”

Essenta nervously shuffled her hooves, “If you… I suppose you…”

Delia turned to the princess, “I’m ready to tell you, if you’re ready to listen... Keep your voice down.”

Essenta stared back to her baggy-eyed friend; she wasn’t much better off herself, “Okay…”

So, sitting at the east entrance, Delia told Essenta the tale.

She began with the climax—no reason to keep the princess dangling—and then back to getting pulled “through time and space” by Dechaa… meeting Cassia… the last few years… the civil war… why the unicorns had suffered so… the murdered family… and their reunion in the jungle.

Essenta found herself weeping some, but mostly held it together.

“We managed to land ourselves in one fucked-up situation, Essenta…” Delia stared towards the jungle; smoke still rose from the likely drowned-out city. “And we got pulled into the thick of it…”

Essenta could no longer question why Ama and Loress were so out-of-touch. The same could be said of Wilka. The horror was difficult to fathom.

Essenta wondered, desperate to think of other things, “Delia… you’ve said… that Wilka has some hurts we don’t see…”

Delia glanced over; she realized Essenta was dodging the situation, “Yes… not all of us though…”

Essenta perked, “So, can you…?”

“Now’s not the time, Essenta,” Delia took a sip of water. “Now’s not the time…”

“I see…”

Delia thought, “I’m glad Orni’s found strength the last couple days.”

Essenta nodded, “She’s been a life-saver… I mean, she’s been terrified, but she’s held up better than me… in some ways.”

“Yeah?” Delia knew she’d pegged it… what was bothering her friend.

And it came rather suddenly.

Essenta spouted, “Before Ama entered the jungle, I… I fell apart, Delia…!”

Delia sat, not betraying her thoughts on the statement.

“I fell apart… and she tried to knock some sense into me. She told me… it was my responsibility to see you all through this… Even if you all came to hate me… I had to protect all of you that I could… even if it meant leaving you and Dechaa behind…”

Delia continued listening.

“That was before I knew you two were safe… or even alive… But after all this…?”

Delia wouldn’t let Essenta state her failure… as she hadn’t failed, “It’s still your responsibility. And we’re all safe. We’re not well, but we’re alive and we’re together.”

“This is all my fault,” Essenta moped. “If I hadn’t brought us-”

“Fuck off with that nonsense, Essenta,” Delia grumbled. “You and your ‘if’, ‘if’, ‘if’… We’re here… We’ve gotten involved here and nothing can change that. I mean… how the fuck were we supposed to know there was a civil war going on? Nopony can predict much of anything, Essenta. It seems stupid to say it, but it’s true. It’s been one shock after another, but we’ve made it to this point.”

Essenta mused, her thoughts wandering some, “Maybe you should be in charge…”

Delia rebuffed, “No dice…”

“Right…” Essenta stared at her hooves; the attempted joke wasn't even close to being funny.

Delia glared, “Try to focus, would you…?”

Essenta did try and they sat a while.

“Delia… we’re broken…”

Delia considered, “Yes…”

“But you… how do you do it?” Essenta asked.

The former maid wasn’t sure, “We’ve all lived different lives, Essenta. Some things… I’d be the one curled up in a corner somewhere.”

Essenta focused on a pebble on the floor; she flipped it with a hoof, “I guess…”

More time passed.

Essenta took a bit to get it out, “Uh, Delia…? There’s… something I want to ask you.”

Delia had had her eyes closed, trying to enjoy the warming morning, “Shoot…”

“Delia… Loress has always given the best advice… She’s worldly and has a better head on her shoulders than me. She’s-”

Delia saw this would go nowhere fast; the princess was rambling, “Make your point…”

“I want you to be my vice.”

“Your ‘vice’?”

“Yes, you know, my-”

“Your second-in-command, I know…” Delia sighed.

“Well, yes… Loress just sort of fell into the position… de facto-like. And she doesn’t want it. And after this… And Ama too, I-”

“I’ll do it, Essenta…”

“You will?”

“I will. I’ll help you get our little group back across the desert, though that was a given anyway.”

Essenta hugged her legs close, “After this… I don’t know if there will be a group anymore…”

Delia looked over; Essenta was about to choke up.

The former maid exhaled; she could guess about the future, but it wouldn’t do much good, “Maybe… But that’s not important right now.”

“What do we do, Delia…?”

It was obvious to Delia, “You should know that. We. Need. To. Get. Away. From. Here. As soon as possible, we need to split.”

“What about-?” Essenta began.

“If it’s about Salvatrix there’s not a single thing we can do… not until we make it back across the desert. Once we’re there… we tell ponies—we tell important ponies.”

Essenta seemed at a loss, “But what do we tell them?”

Delia grimaced, “The truth… as much as is needed.”

“What do you mean?”

Delia couldn’t hold it against Essenta; she wasn’t there, “Loress and I destroyed a city, Essenta… And we’re all involved. Whether anypony could connect us with that… I’m not taking the chance.”

Essenta felt her eyes well up, “So… this might really be the end of our company…”

Delia still wasn’t fussing about that just then, “We stay alive, Princess Essenta Dale. We’re noponies… We’re nothing down here, other than to a few back across the desert… and Cassia.”

Essenta forced it out, “I wonder if she’s still alive…”

Delia shrugged, “Dunno…”

The Earth pony with the toasted ass didn’t want to think of the old mare—alive or dead—in the miserable remains of the city. They’d laid waste to one of the last things Cassia had: her city. It sickened her.

Essenta thought… and she knew better than to ask but she had difficulty in stopping herself, “Loress… and Ama… they’ll change, won’t they…?”

Delia knew Essenta’s meaning; Ama and Loress… had killed before. But they’d done so to save themselves from agents of evil. They’d just had a hoof in killing a whole lot of ponies… whose only crimes—if they could be cited as such—had been driven by fear… fear of a most wicked sort. The will to live another day couldn’t be considered a crime… could it? And it went two ways.

Delia didn’t mince words; it was a simple thing, in the end, “Essenta… Not a one of us will ever be the same mare again.”

“What’s it like…?” Essenta let the childish question slip before she’d even thought to hold it back.

Delia shuddered… Killing?

“It’s awful…”

With those two words, the princess and the custodian stared east a few moments. There wasn’t much else to say.

Essenta stood up, after quite a long while, “I don’t know what the day’s gonna hold for us… but we need to eat.”

Delia nodded wearily, “The others should start waking up soon… Hopefully they’re up to eating. I’ll keep watch here.”

“Bring you something?”

Delia’s stomach had been growling, “Please…”

So Essenta left Delia to face the jungle’s border.

Once again shifting her position, longing to find a less painful way to sit, Delia knew part of her responsibility to her friends was fulfilled.

It hadn’t been easy… it hadn’t been fun… but Essenta knew what they were up against—or rather, what they hoped to escape. Whether or not she’d be able to convey it was another matter.

Ama knew… but Delia felt it cruel to force the Mazan to relive what she’d seen, heard, felt…

Delia knew it was up to her to tell the story... as many times as was needed.

She had never enjoyed the obligations associated with being so hard-boiled. It had her thinking about what might have been… If her mother hadn’t died… If her father hadn’t given up his medical practice to be such a fucking scoundrel…

She took another drink of water and figured she wouldn’t be where she was then.

Author's Note

Check out the Appendix for Princess Essenta, updated as the story moves along. It shows the story's timeline and character designs. Contains spoilers.

Having survived their ordeal in Salvatrix, the little company prepares to once again cross the desert.

With heavy hearts and new worries they must try to make sense of what has befallen them.

If you enjoy Princess Essenta, please take a look at Larkspur Blossom. A story of a colt finding his worth and making a better life for himself.

Also, look for The Virgin Company. A tale of a military pony and his platoon in a war centuries ago.

And if you're up for something less tasteful, check out my one-shot.

Like, follow, or leave a comment if you please. It's been fun writing and I'm glad some enjoy it.

Thanks for reading, and take care.

Chapter 52: The Savanna, Again

Antecedence Arc

“Delia, no,” Essenta stated for the umpteenth time. “We can’t leave tonight! You’re crazy.”

But Delia insisted, “No… No, I’m not.”

“You are,” Essenta pushed. “Even if the army is out looking for you or us or whatever, you said it yourself: there’s nowhere to run. They’d expect us to stay concealed in the jungle… not run to the desert.”

“We’re not in the desert; we ran to the savanna. Essenta… we lit up a city! I told you what happened—across the country—when that cock-goblin Hagano got away! He escapes some village and the whole country was punished! Discipline… torture… murder! There’s no way the regular army hasn’t descended on Nuinhof! Not after that!

“I’d bet my life—don’t look at me that way… yes, my life—that they’re out looking right now! They’ve had an entire day of it. I don’t know just how well the border’s guarded, but it’s guarded! There’s no way they’re too far off.”

Essenta was defiant, “How many hundreds of thousands of square miles is the country?! I don’t care how big their army is; it’s just too much ground to cover and you yourself said they probably can’t track worth a fuck… ‘Trained but inexperienced’! That’s what you said.”

Delia was adamant, “If you think they won’t turn their eyes to the savanna—not more than a few miles from Nuinhof—then you’re stupid. And their soldiers? They might not be able to ‘track worth a fuck’ but there are an awful lot of ponies living nearby. How long would it take them to convince a few locals—maybe put a knife to their little ones' throats—who know the land to pick up our trail?”

“The land’s a swamp, Delia! We got six inches of rain last night. A dog would lose our trail in that!”

“Dogs are dogs, Essenta! They lack logic! Ponies don’t!”

The two Earth ponies had been going at it for a while. Essenta was convinced they were safe… for the time. Delia was convinced they were hours from possibly facing something they couldn’t stand against.

It hadn’t even been 24-hours since Delia came staggering out of the jungle, pulling their friends. Essenta and Delia were the only ones awake just then. Orni was asleep. The unicorns still hadn’t snapped out of their drug-induced stupors. And the other three hadn’t snapped out of their stupors.

“Our ideal way would be to load the girls and go now,” Delia went on. “But waiting for the cover of darkness is probably for the best. We’re packed; you and Orni did a good job of it.”

“We could be out of here in 10 minutes, you say,” Essenta repeated Delia’s thoughts.

“I know… and I’m right,” Delia stated; she raised an eyebrow. “What’s that got to do with this?”

Essenta sighed, “We can see for miles around us! We can outrun trouble that we see, Delia. I say we wait a bit—until we have a unicorn and at least Ama—to go.”

Delia blathered, “That again?! Essenta… We can’t outrun an army. The wagon’s still got it’s lightening charm intact but if they send their air force out?”

“Which we haven’t seen… Even a Pegasus acclimated to this climate can’t fly much during the day; it’d kill them. And if they come at night? All the rock formations and outcroppings around here… it’s like pimples on a greasy little colt! Good luck finding us, if we stay concealed.”

Boooooom…

Both Essenta and Delia halted their arguing.

Booooooooooooooom…!

Both mares’ faces constricted into a miserable grimace.

“Oh, cunt-gravy…” Essenta mourned. “What now…?!”

Creeping to the east opening, they beheld something difficult to perceive.

“What. Is. That?!” Essenta’s eyes widened.

Delia had never seen one… but she’d heard of them, “It’s an airship…!”

Indeed, it was. Steam poured from its stern, a propeller moving it along. Its gondola—as big as any sea-ship’s—hung beneath its envelope… and the envelope was the length of a city.

The girls saw a flash.

BOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOM…!

An explosion rocked the land and smoke wafted up from a section of the jungle, joining another column the girls had just noted.

BOOOOOOOOM…!

They got a better look at the projectile’s origin.

“A cannon?!” Essenta squawked.

Delia’s mouth hung open; she closed it, “Yes… a cannon.”

“What’s going on?!”

Essenta and Delia turned to see Orni.

Orni saw the airship… and the next firing.

BOOOOOOOOOOOOOOM…!

Essenta and Delia missed the actual blast but saw the aftermath as they turned back.

A patch of trees at the edge of the jungle, visible even a few miles off, splintered and went up in flames.

“Oh, fuck my ass…” Essenta whined.

“Wha-wha-wha-wha-what’s going on?!” Orni squeaked.

“Trouble…” Delia breathed.

BOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOM…!

An outcropping at the edge of the jungle exploded, sending boulders the size of houses in every direction.

“Shi-i-i-it…” Essenta gasped.

The three watched a moment; the dirigible altered its direction slightly and began to waft along what they knew to be the country’s border.

Booooom…

Trees fell as toothpicks as the airship chugged along, firing in a line.

Boooom…

Essenta stammered, “Okay… We leave after dinner.”

“Let’s tend to the girls; they’re not all sleeping through that,” Delia said. “Orni… make sure the wagon’s ready.”

Orni only nodded and scampered back into the depths of their hidey-hole.

Essenta watched the ship meander along, “Did Cassia say anything about airships…?”

Birds, likely from the jungle, chattered in a panic as they sped by overhead.

Delia shook her head, “Maybe she didn’t know… It’s a big country.”

Regardless, the girls knew they couldn’t stay long.

Moments before their supposed lunchtime, Essenta, Delia, and Orni pored over a map Cassia had given to the party.

Delia pointed, “This is where we are… Based on the pattern that ship’s showing—if there is a pattern—it’s systematically firing along this ridge… And it’s coming closer. If it keeps up the pace it has, and based on the land it’s covering... it might reach our area by morning. They’ll foray into the savanna; I’m sure. They’ve been firing outside of the barrier, after all.”

“Do you think they’ll keep up at night?” Essenta wondered.

Booom…

“I don’t know,” Delia said plainly. “It depends on what they’re trying to do. Where they are you can still see through the canopy. If they’re trying to see us… they’ll let up. But they wouldn’t be pulverizing the landscape if they were that intent on finding us. Nope… I think they’re blasting away… hoping to kill us or flush us out; they might send a mop-up force.”

“What’s a ‘mop-up force’?” Orni asked Delia.

“Soldiers on the ground to clean up. To find us once we’re dead… or kill us when they find us. After what we did… they’re not just letting us stroll away…”

BOOOOOOOM!!

The three mares started. A rather large concussion had been felt; it shook dust from the rock-ceiling.

Orni looked ill, still on subject, “Oh…”

Essenta and Delia had told Orni—in as little gory detail as possible—how the six mares had escaped… and about the dead family… and that a civil war was going on. It was rough on the little Knollwing.

But Orni knew their lives were on the line; she was sturdier than some would speculate, “So once we leave, how do we keep scarce? Keep from their sight?”

Essenta tapped a hoof on the map, “Well, other than traveling at night, we try to follow this path… until we reach the desert. It’s eight miles to the desert. We could make that in an hour… Even if they go blasting at night there’s a lot to overturn before they reach us, not that they’d have to blow up every landscape feature to flush us out… It would be hard to spot us on the savanna, anyway.”

Boom…

Orni blew her bangs from her eyes, “Right… but if they comb the desert…”

“We’ll have to think more about that,” Essenta admitted. “We have a waxing half-moon going; it’s not getting any less bright at night for another two weeks. Spotting us wouldn’t be hard.”

There were many things to consider. They hadn’t even touched on the ship’s possible fuel reserves—probably wood or coal—or the number of projectiles possibly on board. The ship would have to re-supply at some point, though…

Yes… so much to consider.

Booooooom…

Delia’s stomach felt mutinous; they had another matter to deal with, “Right… And that brings us to the other ship.”

Essenta and Orni’s stomachs flip-flopped as well. Not 15 minutes after seeing the first ship, they saw another appear further south and well into the jungle, in the vicinity of what they knew to be Nuinhof’s farmland and orchards. It apparently had come to ground where there was space to land the freakishly large vehicle.

“The military’s in Nuinhof…” Delia considered. “They’re in the city and its surrounding lands and we have no idea just what’s going on. They could just be aiding the city and keeping order but I’m not counting on it.”

Their fears were numerous. The five other mares still hadn’t returned to their senses. Ama and Wilka were awake but not doing much other than staring at the walls. Loress was still worse off, struggling very much with her part in the escape; the last time they’d tried to get much from her she just curled up, glassy-eyed and tight-jawed. But Dechaa and Zyra would be waking up any moment, Delia figured.

“As far as leaving… we may just need to load up the girls and move,” Delia conceded. “But we’ve packed the wagon carefully and with the charm holding, we can trot right off.”

Essenta considered time, “It's around seven hours until darkness. We can talk more about when to leave. We should just eat lunch. The others, too... if we can rouse them.”

“Food…?” a fourth voice contributed.

Essenta turned, “Dechaa?!”

The unicorn leaned against the wall, looking exhausted, “I could use something to eat…”

Essenta went up and supported her friend, briefly wondering what Dechaa might have heard, “You need to sit, Dechaa.”

Dechaa didn’t refuse; she looked up miserably to Delia, who’d approached, “Do I even wanna know what happened this time…? My head kills… and I’ve got this awful crick in my neck… That, and…”

Booooom…!

“Yeah… that…” Dechaa moaned.

Oh, boy… Delia thought.

But Orni saved the moment, “You’ve all been through a lot… Let’s get you something nice to eat.”

Dechaa was satisfied with that, “But first… I gotta pee…!”

“Things have taken a turn,” Delia explained over lunch. “We’re safe for now but we need to go.”

Dechaa slowly yet eagerly fed herself some sliced fruit and cassava porridge, “That sounds like an understatement…”

Booooom…

“Yes…” Delia nodded. “They’re out looking for us. Please let it be for now… It’s complicated. We need to leave; the rest can wait.”

To the knowledge of the three in better shape, Dechaa hadn’t seen the cart or clothing they’d come in with. Delia wished they’d disposed of that stuff, but they were bent on staying hidden.

But Dechaa accepted, “Coming out of a shock isn’t much fun… I’m really getting tired of this feeling sick and you doping me up and some dying psychic filly that got caught in a thresher or something…”

The others winced at Dechaa’s manner; the healer was in a foul state.

“I know we’re out of the barrier—thank fucking goodness for that—but the little bitch could’ve kept it to herself when we were in it…” Dechaa chewed on a fresh slice of melon.

Nasty… Essenta and Orni shuddered. Orni had never seen the healer in such a rotten mood... and it was more than Essenta could remember seeing, having spent more than half her life around the unicorn.

“Well, she’s dead now; it's certain,” Delia managed to keep the emotion from her voice. “Don’t hold it against her…”

“Easy for you to say…” Dechaa belched.

Orni knew the truth—as far as she was told—and knew it best to keep quiet about the family that had been “made an example of”. That exact phrase was used to clue in Orni she was better off not pushing the subject. The little Knollwing had to excuse herself, heading to the east opening.

“What’s her problem?” Dechaa looked after her.

Essenta chided her best friend, “I know you’re upset… tired… sore… and whatever else but try to tone it down. Orni’s been worried sick over all of you… She’s been great. If not for her… I might’ve lost hope…”

Whether she took heed or not, Dechaa hungrily continued her meal.

“Eeeeep!” a girlish squeal sounded.

Delia stood up straight, “Huh?”

“Orni!” Essenta cried.

The two Earth ponies rushed into the next cavity and saw their little Knolling wasn’t alone.

Delia couldn’t believe her eyes; she goggled at the old mare tottering before them, “Cassia?!?!”

Indeed, it was… and she looked as if she’d been through Hell. And her eyes bore witness to recent tears.

Essenta’s eyes darted from Cassia to Delia, “Cassia? The mare that helped you and Dechaa?!”

Something seemed… off to Delia; she felt something strange off Cassia but given all that had happened it wasn’t surprising, “The same, Essenta.”

Orni backed towards the rocky wall, realizing something was wrong, “Uh, Delia… What’s going on?”

Delia was unsurprised Orni picked up on the thing she recognized, “I’m not sure…”

Essenta didn’t notice anything was wrong—it was dark and she had a tendency to shrug off menace, even when it was recognized; she was joyed to see the oldster and approached, “Oh, Cassia! It’s good to meet you!”

Essenta wasn’t thinking, surprised to see Cassia. Just a day prior, Delia had seen Cassia’s city at least partially destroyed. Something was coming.

Cassia wasted no time; her tearful eyes blazed in the cave’s near-darkness, “You miserable whore!”

Delia knew that was meant for her. Cassia weaved past Essenta.

Orni wasn’t sure what to do, “Cassia…?”

Cassia barked at Orni, “Shut up, child!”

Orni recoiled, ears dropping.

Cassia didn’t miss a beat; she faced Delia, her face full of some deep rage, “Goddamn you… Goddamn you!”

Delia hadn’t expected to see the geriatric unicorn again… alive or otherwise, “Now, Cassia…”

Delia felt Cassia’s eyes bore into hers, “Do you have any idea what you’ve done?”

Essenta saw Delia jerk; it was if she was transfixed. Delia struggled visibly, trying to choke out words and force movement.

It was clear to Essenta and Orni. Cassia was in Delia’s head!

Delia knew answering as she wanted might lead to… trouble; she had little right to it, but she belted it out, fighting Cassia’s influence, “I got us away from that Godforsaken town, Cassia! That filly was still alive, since you didn't seem to realize it! I think you know what happened. You can see it right now in my head, if you haven’t figured it out already! Do I really need to explain it?!”

Essenta and Orni were shocked; Delia was infuriated… and she was writhing to get at Cassia.

Cassia further lowered her gaze, eyes streaming, “You dare answer me in such a way…?!”

Delia felt the affection—indeed, the love—she’d cultured for Cassia evaporate like dew on a hot rock; it was easy when the old unicorn was possibly trying to wrench her body apart, “Oh, I dare…”

Cassia blew up, screaming at Delia, “You destroyed everything! You pony-garbage! They’re still finding bodies! Stallions, mares, and foals!”

Delia was defiant and leered. It wasn’t a “normal” leer either; it had Cassia do a take.

The old mare was put off enough it took a little wind from her sails. She focused on Delia’s resisting.

“Fighting won’t do you much good, Delia,” Cassia advised, collecting herself.

“Somehow I doubt that,” Delia spat between Cassia’s front hooves. “Your magic’s weak, Cassia… You’d better do something drastic or I’ll break free… And when I do…”

Essenta and Orni saw a terrible anger in Delia; she was ready to kill the unicorn.

Essenta—whether it was a good idea or not—intervened, “Now… stop this, you two…”

The princess’s shaky voice and stupid statement irked Delia and Cassia… especially Cassia.

Before Delia could snap at the princess Cassia reacted.

The old unicorn’s horn lit up; she blasted Essenta against the wall, “Don’t you dare interfere!”

Delia managed to lunge, with Cassia’s power diverted; she’d almost sprung on Cassia but was stopped. Cassia had just managed to catch her.

Casting her gaze to the side, Delia saw Orni helping Essenta.

It was apparent all this was very taxing for the psychic. Delia could see her shake and quiver; she felt the magic weakening and wavering.

Delia studied her a moment. Taking in the vision of Cassia, Delia saw she was in sorry shape: she looked as if she’d been beaten; she was beyond exhausted; she looked ready to die!

Delia realized… she was dying.

It came out of Delia’s mouth, her anger dissipating for a moment, “What did they do to you?”

Cassia’s face twisted into a sad mask of fury; she gritted her teeth.

With a few gaps now visible in her previously perfect dentition, “They did what soldiers do, Delia… what some of them do... It doesn’t matter the age; they’ll take it regardless, sometimes.

Delia realized in alarm that Cassia was bleeding out the back, in addition to her bruises and other injuries.

“No…” Delia could barely fathom it and she'd known some awful things to happen.

An old mare?!

“Yes, Delia…” Cassia exhaled, struggling to maintain the spell, much less stand. “I managed to kill a couple of them… I blew their brains out… I was going to escape… cross the desert… and go die surrounded by my fillies! But they caught me… It’s taking all I have just to be here… alive. It took me all day to get here... I have moments, perhaps. So, I thought I’d pay you a visit. This all happened because you came here…”

Orni cowered off to the side, now behind Essenta, who wasn’t feeling her beans much either; this was fucked up.

The four heads in the opening turned as somepony staggered in.

“What the Hell is this…?” Dechaa looked about blearily.

Seeing another unicorn, Cassia countered quickly; she wouldn’t tolerate another magic user causing issue, “Sleep!”

With a spark of Cassia’s horn, Dechaa dropped like a sack of potatoes.

The old unicorn gasped in pain, just about falling to her knees.

Seeing her friend “hurt” by Cassia had Delia’s blood running hot again, “Cunt!”

Essenta and Orni dared not move, pressed to the wall.

Delia seethed, her eyes darting from her friends to Cassia; she could feel Cassia weakening further but knew the old mare wasn’t done.

Coughing violently, Cassia brought up a trickle of blood; hoofing her ribs, she glared towards Essenta, “You’ve let a real monster crawl into bed with all of you, Princess…”

Essenta finally noted the menace Cassia gave off; it wasn’t like what she’d felt from the various “powerful stallions” in the past… it was black…

“If you knew what kind of pony you and your little party wanted to drag along on whatever you’re trying to do you would’ve run…” Cassia breathed.

Delia heaved against the magic; Cassia was calling on her very life energy, it seemed, to keep up her spell. She anxiously watched Cassia approach her friends.

“Remember Noach getting you all calm and entering your minds? Kind of like making love?” Cassia asked maliciously.

Delia realized what Cassia was up to, “No! Stay out of their heads!”

Cassia released Delia, only to encase her in a bubble, “Shut the fuck up.”

Delia bellowed and banged on the barrier, unable to do anything else.

“Relax, whore…” Cassia hissed. “And save your oxygen; you’ll be in there a little while.”

The old one moved closer to the mares.

“Keep away from her!” Delia yelled to her friends. “Get away! Don’t let her touch you!”

Essenta and Orni were too timid to budge; their eyes showed they were petrified. They’d faced a lot, but nothing like this.

Cassia sneered, “‘Keep away’?! I’m a little more skilled than Noach!”

Orni yipped, burying her face in Essenta’s tunic. The princess felt her blood run cold.

“There’s something I want to see…” Cassia muttered.

“NO!” Delia burst.

Cassia stopped, glaring down at Essenta, “You first, Princess…”

“Stop!” Delia was pounding against the bubble for all she was worth.

Delia hesitated, “Then again… the princess goes last.”

Essenta was magicked away from her friend; Orni's support gone, she toppled over.

“Make room, whore…” Cassia magicked Essenta into the bubble with Delia. “Takes less energy for me.”

Delia was pressed to the side; her face squished against the hindrance, “Shit…!”

Orni was a little dazed, having bonked her head.

“You’re Orni, right?”

The little Knollwing looked up; she just about wet herself, looking into Cassia’s eyes.

“I see…” Cassia seemed to look through Orni. “You’re a Knollwing… You really are.”

Orni couldn’t be pressed any further agains the rock-wall; her terrified eyes streamed.

“You’re first, cripple,” Cassia aimed her horn at Orni.

Delia was fuming but unable to see; Essenta could see and cried out, “No! Please!”

Cassia paid the princess no mind and set Orni to sleep, entering her mind.

Author's Note

Check out the Appendix for Princess Essenta, updated as the story moves along. It shows the story's timeline and character designs. Contains spoilers.

Cassia has found the company, herself angry, sad, and near-death. With Essenta and Delia helpless, what will become of the other girls?

If you enjoy Princess Essenta, please take a look at Larkspur Blossom. A story of a colt finding his worth and making a better life for himself.

Also, look for The Virgin Company. A tale of a military pony and his platoon in a war centuries ago.

And if you're up for something less tasteful, check out my one-shot.

Like, follow, or leave a comment if you please. It's been fun writing and I'm glad some enjoy it.

Thanks for reading, and take care.

Chapter 54: The Hearts of Maidens, Part Two

Antecedence Arc

Feeling no activity of immediate import in the next cavity Cassia saw no further reason not to look in on Dechaa, then and there.

Already regretting the way she’d handled things with Orni—that encouraged little mare—she figured on going about with Dechaa differently.

She’d have to anyway, she figured; her next target would surely prove to present herself very differently.

Cassia hadn’t expected to find a corporeal plane within Dechaa’s mind; ponies could either generate one or not and Cassia couldn’t just create one.

But she could see vague glimpses of things. There was a lot of confusion in there and considering what Dechaa had been through in just the last couple of days—being very receptive to the mental stressors occuring—this was underwhelming... at first.

The decided serenity within Orni was gone. Cassia looked upon herself; she was her familiar, elderly self but at least she wasn’t in pain.

Not feeling any pain—or anything else, really—she moved effortlessly but was unable to create a plane upon which to walk; she was forced to drift about.

Cassia knew what she was looking for; she said to herself, “Dechaa’s essence is around here somewhere… Let’s see where…”

Things were… different, Cassia had concluded after only a moment. As skilled as she was, she knew it might take time to locate Dechaa’s being in the mess of emotion and activity around her. She’d only seen this exact kind of turmoil—it wasn’t the most extreme, but unique—in somepony in the throes of a seizure, which Dechaa wasn’t having. It had appeared underwhelming at first, but things got strange in a hurry. Perhaps she wouldn't "have to change" her approach; she had little choice and was simply in for a ride.

It was one of the oddest things she’d ever seen in a mind: it was as if it had been carefully ordered until just recently and… then somepony came along and just scattered it in every imaginable direction.

Something appeared to Cassia’s side; it surprised her slightly, causing her to flinch. She saw a young filly—obviously a younger Dechaa—hunched at a desk.

At least Dechaa can see things from the ‘outside’… Cassia had been dreading seeing everything through Dechaa’s eyes, having encountered nothing concrete until that point.

“…I don’t know why you keep reading those books, Dechaa,” a sharp-faced Pegasus mare in a severe tunic—likely beautiful at some point in her life—lounged on a sofa on the other side of the room.

Cassia felt a hotness, pulsating from the filly, as she twitched. The young one gritted her teeth and went on reading. Looking about, the room appeared a library.

Mother… Cassia gathered… and Mother was a little drunk, apparently. Cassia took in the scene.

To Cassia, the older mare resembled a bird, somehow; she considered her wineglass, turning it in her hoof, “Your father’s been soft on the matter but it’s high time you started shadowing him… and me.”

Little Dechaa, certainly no older than 11 or 12, had her back to her mother; she was tense! Cassia could feel a pent-up frustration building, likely invisible to and/or overlooked by the Pegasus. Cassia heard Dechaa’s teeth creak as she ground them.

“Wardeness…” a voice came from the door to a hallway.

Cassia looked to see a plainly-clad Earth pony mare, supporting a jug.

Lady Beiren lazily turned to the mare, “Yes?”

“Lady Beiren, I’ve brought the fresh wine you requested.”

The Pegasus snorted, a drunken giggle building in her throat, “Who?”

The Earth pony smiled, “Lady Brigid, I’ve brought the fresh wine you requested.”

“Atta girl,” Lady Beiren again waved her glass. “Any friend of mine can use my given name... Mind topping me off?”

“Not at all.”

Cassia looked on, noting the disgusted Dechaa. The little unicorn was positively bristling at the sound of the wineglass filling.

“Thank you, Risa,” Lady Beiren slurred. “Leave the jug, will you?”

Risa stood uneasily, noting Dechaa; she noticed something was wrong and whispered to the wardeness, “Uh… this is your husband’s study… Do you really want to…?”

“Leave the jug,” Lady Beiren purred.

“Yes, Wardeness,” Risa didn’t argue further.

Cassia kept watch a while, seeing Dechaa’s manner worsen as her mother’s did, the former becoming more tense and the latter beginning to get hammered. She grimaced, realizing it was all intentional on the mother’s part.

It was a time before Lady Beiren spoke again; her words came through garbled, “Your brother’s training to be a soldier… If he shows promise they’ll groom him for command…”

Dechaa cringed, trying to bury herself in her book. Cassia was positive her horn glowed, however faintly; she’d felt Dechaa was on the cusp of something awful and became anxious.

Lady Beiren went on, “And your sister… it’s like she was born for this. Someday she’ll be the warden of the castle.”

Cassia picked up another feeling from Dechaa… Brother... Sister… Pegasi… Like Mother…

I see… Cassia took this in. The unfavored daughter…

Not only that, but there was no denying it: Dechaa’s horn sparked… and not in a pleasant way.

Lady Beiren smirked to her daughters back, draining another wineglass, “You, though…”

With that, Dechaa stood up and deftly yet fluidly returned the book to a place on the shelf.

Cassia could read the book’s spine: Medicinal Herbs of the Western Forests

Cassia was sure she heard a chuckle from the wardeness as Dechaa began to stride out with purpose. In Dechaa’s heart, she detected a powerful blackness.

And Cassia realized she wouldn’t be able to follow Dechaa, her mind not being “physically navigable” as Orni’s was. But the feeling wasn’t difficult to follow, and she was sure she’d be able to see Dechaa again.

It was even easier than expected, finding her.

The next scene encountered had Cassia realizing Dechaa had some frustration built, if the time in the study hadn’t been evidence enough.

Feeling a great conflict in Dechaa, Cassia found her next simmering in a nearby rocky outcropping.

It was a most unpleasant thing, what she witnessed.

It wasn’t difficult to detect the rage continuing to build up, as Dechaa seethed, tears forming in her eyes, horn beginning to spark.

Cassia wished she’d be able to stand back but couldn’t do much other than watch. She also knew this was Dechaa’s “venting grounds” and the scorched boulders and earth supported this.

With the guttural cry of a wounded animal, Dechaa let go all the pent-up fury she’d been holding.

Cassia watched in horror as Dechaa—for a full minute—blasted her horn at a boulder, screaming the while. It wasn’t particularly powerful—Cassia realized Dechaa had experienced overextending herself, this being nothing novel—but it was still frightening. It was practiced.

Dechaa’s mind was whirling, though she didn’t give words to her dark thoughts; something stopped her from saying it all out loud.

Fuck! Drunken bitch cunt! Asshole! Asshole! Asshole! Fuck! Cunt! I hate you! Die, asshole! Kill you! I want to watch you die! Cunt! Cunt! Cunt! Cunt! Cunt! Cunt! CUNT! Go away! Leave me alone! Die! Die! Die! Die! DIE!

That and much more made itself known to Cassia. A lot of it made no sense; it was just blind rage, pure and simple.

When the blast dried up, Dechaa reduced herself to stomping and tearing the ground beneath her; again, she worked herself up and soon fell, crying softly into the grass.

Cassia saw this passage dissolve and next found them back in what she knew to be Greendale, the capitol of the Dale.

Dechaa was slowly paddling down a street, evidence of her emotions streaking her face.

“Dechaa…” a small voice sounded from the side.

Cassia looked and beheld another unicorn filly, just as pretty as Dechaa. Her coat was a pastel orange and her ebony mane—though carefully maintained—betrayed a messiness that no hairbrush could tame.

Dechaa tried to hide her face, “Calleha! What are you doing out here?”

Calleha was a little taken aback, obviously noting Dechaa’s trouble, “I’m… looking for my sister.”

If Dechaa seemed raw—though experienced—with her misery, Calleha was downtrodden. Cassia saw Dechaa’s demeanor not improve, but change, encountering the smaller unicorn.

“Come with me, Calleha.”

Cassia, seeing things fade out a moment, felt them rematerialize in what appeared to be a workshop.

Calleha looked about, “This is my sister’s shop…!”

“And it’s my laboratory as well,” Dechaa’s spirit rose visibly, being in her place of solace.

“I thought you kept that in your room…” Calleha said innocently, looking around at Dechaa’s glassware.

Dechaa twinged at the words, but didn’t take out anything on Calleha, “You know my mother, dear… like you know your own.”

Calleha huddled up at the words, sitting on a worn sofa on the wall, “Yes… they…”

Dechaa nodded sadly, “They don’t approve of our pastimes… Sen and I.”

Sen? Cassia wondered.

Calleha further retreated into the sofa, “Right… Essenta…”

Cassia felt a jolt… Princess Essenta’s little sister…?!

She certainly was such.

Dechaa had begun to set out a couple of potted plants and a clippers; she had maintenance to do on her herbs but relented upon seeing just how down Calleha was.

The forthcoming healer paddled over to the sofa, sitting beside the other, “It’s about your mother, I see…”

Dechaa put a hoof over Calleha’s shoulder.

“She just… doesn’t talk to me… or sing or play her harp for me anymore…” the little one was on the verge of tears.

Dechaa sighed and gave an understandingly sad smile, “I know…”

Calleha sniffled.

Dechaa thought a moment, “Your baby brother… you understand things, right?”

Calleha looked guilty but soon acknowledged, “I think so…”

Not unkindly, Dechaa explained, “Your mother had a very difficult pregnancy with Durenes… She’s still recovering and… and he’s still very sick. I know it’s hard to understand but…”

Calleha wiped her eyes, “I know… I’m being selfish…”

Dechaa kneaded her shoulder, “Don’t think that way, Calleha… You’re not selfish—at all, really… You know he needs her… and he needs your father, too.”

Calleha bobbed her head in a nod, “Abe’s taking it pretty hard…”

“I know…” Dechaa sighed. “I know…”

“And Valles… even he misses Father.”

“Yes.”

Calleha snorted, her nose running some, “Essenta, though…”

Dechaa picked up on the tone, “What about her?”

“How can I be more like her?” the childlike question came immediately.

Dechaa betrayed no response at first; she considered the younger filly’s face, “How you can be like her…?”

“Yes… you’re her best friend! Tell me!”

Dechaa appeared wary.

Calleha persisted, “She doesn’t spend as much time with me anymore, either… and I really want her to… If I’m more like her, then maybe…”

But her words died in her throat; Calleha mumbled it off.

Dechaa took her time. She knew Calleha didn’t want that in her heart and the little unicorn knew what it entailed… It entailed an ugly thing. And it was a very ugly thing.

“Calleha… your sister loves you… more than anything. You know that, right?”

Calleha nodded, a few more tears squeezing from her eyes.

“I know it’s hard… but try to be patient… And help Abe; he’s not as tough as you might think.”

Calleha actually snorked at this, a little grin showing through, “I know…”

Dechaa jostled her, “You’ll be okay, Calleha… and if you need to talk, I’m here.”

At this, Calleha started; it took her a moment to formulate, “Dechaa… is there anything you want to talk about?”

Dechaa gave a long stare. She knew Calleha wasn’t foolish… that she knew of her hurts.

Not entirely lying, Dechaa hugged Calleha, “I feel better, Calleha… Sometimes we just need to put things into perspective. Talking’s not just good for you, after all; it is for me, too.”

Calleha again wiped her eyes, “I see… Thanks, Dechaa.”

“So, buck up… You’re a princess of the Dale.”

“Right…”

“Now run along,” Dechaa stood Calleha up and ushered her to the door. “You have lessons to attend.”

Calleha started, other things forgotten, “Oh, you’re right!”

Dechaa watched the little princess gallop away.

Cassia wasn’t sure if Dechaa would return to her work or go elsewhere. Though it didn’t surprise her that Dechaa closed up shop and strode out with purpose.

Cassia felt the “air” change; she was going on another trip in Dechaa’s mind.
...
...
...

Ka-Boooooooooooooom!

Cassia gave a "mental leap", brought abruptly into the next segment.

“Whoo-hoo-hoo-hoo!”

“Fuckin’ A, right, Cap! Yeah!”

Cassia turned to see two fillies, roughly Dechaa’s age, cheering raucously at a smoking crater in the ground.

“Oh, watch out!” the filly Cassia recognized as Zyra looked up.

The other looked up and said, “Meh…”

And a rock big enough to kill her landed harmlessly not a leg’s length away from her, embedding in the ground. A few smaller chunks fell about nearby, but most of them were not to be seen.

“Shit, Cap!” Zyra crowed. “You’re nuts!”

Essenta cackled, the smoke clearing.

While Zyra looked much the same—aside from keeping a longer mane and tail—Essenta looked markedly different.

The first princess of the Dale was all legs, her mane and tail shortly cropped.

Both fillies were covered in all manner of filth and paddled to a dirty blanket set out.

Zyra brushed her hooves together, rubbing off some of the dust, magicking ink and quill to paper, “Okay… so we blended the new gunpowder a little too strong…”

“But that was cool!” Essenta crowed.

“Too much saltpeter and not enough sulfur… You know that’s not stable; it takes too much input for ignition.”

“Whatever,” the princess chuckled.

“Cap, we’re trying to make better fireworks… not blow rocks into the stratosphere…” Zyra had a delighted hyperbole about her voice.

This is Dechaa’s memory… where is she? Cassia thought.

“What are you two doing?!” a voice cried.

Essenta and Zyra turned. There Dechaa was…

Zyra looked less than pleased to see her, “Ah, what is it? Come to spoil our fun? S’not like we have any lessons this afternoon.”

Dechaa took in the surroundings and knew what they’d been up to. It wasn’t just the noise; she knew her friends.

Dechaa didn’t pay any attention to Zyra; she strode to Essenta, “Sen!”

Essenta gave a lopsided grin, “Yeah?”

Dechaa scowled, looking at her best friend with disgust, “Your mother’s gonna have a fit when she sees that manecut you gave yourself… and your father…”

Essenta gave an unsteady giggle, “I know…”

Dechaa sniffed the air between them; she looked aghast, “No… You’ve been drinking!”

Essenta pointed to a small cask off to the side, “Sure.”

“Where’d you get that?!”

Zyra put in, laughing, “She hooked it from the kitchen.”

“Best ale in town!” Essenta was clearly not entirely sober.

Dechaa was disgusted, “You idiots!”

“Hey, I didn’t touch the stuff!” Zyra shook her head.

But Dechaa was less concerned about the magical prodigy and more so of the princess, “Drinking and playing with dangerous stuff! You know better, Sen!”

Essenta wasn’t having it, “Re-lax, pal… We’re just having a little fun.”

Dechaa’s sharp eyes narrowed, “…Fun… you say?”

Zyra felt the atmosphere change; she knew things were about to get heated and backed up.

Dechaa shoved Essenta hard... right to the ground, “Just what are you thinking, Sen?”

Essenta, taken aback at the sudden violence, didn’t fully register what was happening, “Hey! What was that for?!”

Dechaa spoke loudly, standing above—and already quite a bit taller than—the princess, “You’re a princess of the Dale! You’re the first princess of the Dale! What are you thinking?! Drinking and playing with gunpowder!”

“Hey, fuck you!” Essenta yelled back.

Dechaa didn't like that answer; she pushed Essenta back down as she tried to stand.

“Gah!” Essenta went over like a sack of potatoes.

Dechaa bristled, “Again…! You’re the first princess of the Dale, Sen!”

“Hey, leave me alone!” Essenta wasn’t in touch with her higher brain functions enough to deal with this.

“No, Sen!” Dechaa commanded. “You listen!”

“…Dechaa…” Zyra implored.

The taller unicorn glared at the other, knocking off any such implorations, "Zyra… you’re an initiate to our magic guild—the youngest ever—but you can't just do whatever you want! So... shut up! I don’t care how powerful you are!”

Zyra, seeing Dechaa's horn flaring, fell off like the clap and pulled back.

Dechaa looked back to Essenta, “Listen, Essenta!”

Essenta jilted; it was rare Dechaa called her by her actual name, “…”

“I know you’re just loving the lack of attention, now, but you have a responsibility!” Dechaa’s voice came clear as a bell.

“What do you mean?” Essenta was trying to sluff this off.

“If you don’t care about your duties as a princess, then think of Calleha! Think of Abe! Even Valles!”

“…”

“They need you! They need their big sister!”

Essenta recoiled.

“And your parents… They need you.”

Dechaa’s words stung; Essenta huddled up, “Shut up… it’s not my fault that little shit’s retar-”

“That’s your baby brother!” Dechaa hollered. “And those are your parents! They need you!”

“Fuck you…” Essenta muttered.

Dechaa leered, “Fuck me…?”

Zyra again intervened, “Hey, uh… Dechaa? You know that…”

Dechaa gave a venomous glance; she didn’t need to say it… Yes, Sen very nearly hates her parents…

But Zyra went on, “You know how it is…”

Easy for you to say… Zyra… your family’s long gone… Dechaa thought.

“I can’t be like Calleha…” Essenta murmured.

Dechaa looked at her friend with annoyance, “Say what you mean.”

Essenta did, “She should know better… than to 'play princess'…”

“Be glad Calleha’s not like you…” Dechaa’s words cut.

Zyra looked horrified; she was astonished Dechaa would say that.

Essenta heard it alright; she began to cry.

Yes... perhaps Essenta wasn't lost... that she could at least try to be closer to her parents—particularly her mother. Dechaa may not be able to do it... but Essenta wasn't lost.

Dechaa—regretting her harsh words but knowing them to be true—knelt.

Essenta withdrew.

“Sen…” Dechaa’s voice came gently. “You can’t be out here doing careless things… You’re worth more than that. Calleha and Abe need their big sister. They’re hurting. Valles… I don’t know, really. But Calleha and Abe need you—more than ever.”

Essenta sniffled and buried her face in Dechaa’s tunic.

“Zyra…” Dechaa’s voice pulled the mage back.

“Yes?” Zyra was on pins and needles.

“Clean all this up, please… I’ll take Sen.”

Zyra nodded and proceeded to do so.

Cassia watched as Dechaa guided Essenta back and lovingly washed her up, fixed her mane and tail so they didn’t look so bad, and saw she sobered up to better grasp her duties as a sister.

The current scene faded, giving Cassia some time to think. Dechaa presented an interesting—and frightening—duality. And the other things she saw only reinforced this.

It was non-linear, with the jumble of memories being out of order, but there was plenty to see.

Cassia saw Dechaa succeed in her aspirations and take up the role of apprentice apothecary. The triumph over her mother’s assholery gave her much reason to mellow out. But she often bottled up her emotions; she vented less, and it may not have been for the best. She tried to keep Essenta “far enough away from trouble” and Zyra on track with her own responsibilities. She tried to see things from a different point of view, lightening her thoughts about many things, and feeling much less black about some things.

Cassia saw little of Dechaa’s father, the milquetoast unicorn he was, but she saw a lot more of Lady Beiren; the wardeness loved her Pegasi much more than her unicorns. Dechaa admired her brother and tolerated her sister and loved them both; they were their own ponies and had their own paths.

Only rarely did Dechaa ever defend herself or even think of herself… other than pursuing the life of an apothecary.

Shocking was her encounter with Prince Dagda. A moment of jealousy for the less-than-visually-receptive princess and her own lust led to a closet and a hoofjob, a game of stink-hoof, and fellatio, among other things.

Cassia witnessed the fear and unsureness, the excitement and mingled horror of leaving the Dale and their encounters in the wilderness.

New friends… New experiences… New fears throughout the trip...

The night raid was something Cassia didn’t fully appreciate until “being there”.

The same could be said of their healing.

Most disturbing, perhaps, was her fight with Orni, right before the little Knollwing joined their party. Dechaa had cast her own life aside—whether she meant to or not—to win (or rather, tie with Orni). It was still unclear even to Dechaa why she’d taken such a crippling and potentially fatal blow.

And, of course, she became more and more frustrated with their troubles, letting too many things build up inside.

And now, Dechaa’s mind had just about cracked, with recent things. The sensation of the dying filly in Nuinhof had come close to breaking her. She was finally ready to fall off the edge; all she needed was a tip in the wrong direction and gravity would take over.

Cassia came to know all this, and it still didn’t make much sense to her. About all that was clear was Dechaa loved her friends very much... more than herself.

The conclusion wasn’t an easy one: she was unable to find Dechaa’s actual essence. Cassia had been in minds with far more pain… but never with such conflict. It was the first time in her life she’d been unable to make contact with a pony’s spirit.

Dechaa’s essence wasn’t locked away… but lost in the jumble.

Cassia had had enough; it was time to leave.

Dechaa, already being out like a light, remained on the floor.

Cassia grimaced, stepping away from the healer, “Gah… This one’s twisted up inside.”

Delia freaked, “What did you tell her?!”

Cassia shook her head, her mind swimming, “Nothing… I couldn’t… 'find' her in there…”

To Essenta, Cassia’s bewilderedness was obvious; it wasn’t to Delia.

“YEEEAARRRGGH!” Delia bucked at the magic bubble, making quite a fuss. “You’re lying! What did you do?”

“Eep!” Essenta squealed; there wasn’t much room in the bubble for roughhousing.

“Stop this,” Cassia said tiredly.

“I’m gonna kill you!” Delia thundered. “Let me out!”

Cassia knew there was no getting through.

“Quiet…” she pointed her horn at the roaring janitor.

With that, Delia’s outburst became completely silent; the former maid looked quite deranged, raging in the space.

Cassia had her concerns: Dechaa was wrecked inside… but she didn’t know just how much time she had left and chose to go on with her chosen task.

Turning towards the next chamber, Cassia limped away, “Now... I have a bone to pick with the Terran.”

Leaving the raging Delia and the glum Essenta behind, Cassia entered the next chamber. Perhaps she was wrong in all this... but she didn't care.

Author's Note

Check out the Appendix for Princess Essenta, updated as the story moves along. It shows the story's timeline and character designs. Contains spoilers.

An unexpectedly confused mind stunned Cassia but gave her little pause.

Before looking in on Zyra, Ama, and Wilka--and indeed the princess--she sets sights on Loress.

The old psychic hasn't even decided what she might do with Delia.

If you enjoy Princess Essenta, please take a look at Larkspur Blossom. A story of a colt finding his worth and making a better life for himself.

Also, look for The Virgin Company. A tale of a military pony and his platoon in a war centuries ago.

And if you're up for something less tasteful, check out my one-shot, Naughty....

Like, follow, or leave a comment if you please. It's been fun writing and I'm glad some enjoy it.

Thanks for reading, and take care.

Chapter 55: The Hearts of Maidens, Part Three

Antecedence Arc

Leaving the raging Delia and the much-elbowed Essenta behind, Cassia entered the next area.

Still, she noted nothing of consequence. Considering the noise, she wouldn’t be all that surprised to see somepony awake.

She found Wilka was still snoring but Ama and Loress were up. Zyra was giving mixed signals.

Ama was curled up facing a wall. Cassia heard her crying. The Mazan wasn’t even aware they had a guest… As with Loress, it wasn’t the noise that woke her… Loress, herself, was staring into space with blank eyes.

They were near-catatonic—and had probably been awake for some time.

Cassia heard Zyra stir and brought her horn to a fast glow; doing so hurt and she felt her legs buckle at the transfer of energy. But Zyra slept on.

As she’d just told the princess and the janitor, she had a bone to pick with Loress; she certainly did but she weighed her options. It’s not as if Loress had to go first.

Sensing an unusually peaceful vibe from Wilka—given everything going on—she’d do her later… The Knollwing’s words didn’t mean a whole Helluva lot to her. Zyra… was the biggest threat. But Cassia wasn’t strictly a business-before-pleasure sort and seeing Ama again—a mare she came to like very much in their brief meeting—she wasn’t sure there’d be much to see. The big mare was suffering and would likely afford only pain. Cassia didn’t want to hurt Ama; she was hesitant to even connect with her.

Cassia turned eyes to the Terran; she’d do Loress first.

Approaching the wall-eyed mare with a lot less enthusiasm than she’d been feeling, she dropped Loress off for a snooze. She’d been ready to run Loress through the mill, for what she’d done… but the peculiarity in Dechaa’s mind put quite a damper on her already-dwindling spirit.

Cassia knew Loress had caused the gas "escaping" in the city. There wasn’t much else she figured the Terran could “tell” her but she’d see.

Just what were these mares made of?

Cassia sniffed the “air”.

Maybe it’s more than a few in a hundred that can conjure smell…

Terrow—a placed Cassia had never been but certainly knew about—looked better than it smelled. At least it was so where she was. It wasn’t as if the entire city smelled like shit, but Cassia found herself near the stockyards and stables.

A large trading and cultural hub, all the different races of ponies could be found, as well as other species. Griffins, deer, minotaurs…

In the distance, Cassia espied the Fortress of Terrow—an imposing structure of brick and steel. The gorgeous, much-praised city rose up away from where she was, but things looked pretty sorry at her level. Distinguishing the stink of pig and cow shit was impossible; it mingled in the air as their noises did.

At least the “ground” was solid beneath her hooves and she was not unhappy seeing herself so young again.

Such a wonder… this needy mare…

But the sometimes-fragile Loress—for one reason or another—could really conjure up one Helluva mindscape! Cassia hardly had to do a thing!

Naturally, nopony and no other creatures could see her. Nothing but Terrans around her, Cassia considered them: they were on average much taller than normal Earth ponies and notably bulkier… but they weren’t as unhandsome as reputed.

Still, they were ass-ugly compared to the little streak of cream and black that sped by her. It had Cassia jump back, in spite of herself.

“Loress!”

Cassia looked over, her eyes leading to the door of a rather humble, yet comfortable-looking home, like yet unlike many others on the same road. There stood a mare, tall and statuesque, who was almost as beautiful as her daughter. Appearing to her sides were numerous foals—already large but obviously young—who weren’t all that bad to look at either.

Little Loress, wearing a worn-out-looking vest, turned and answered, “Quid opus est, Matri?”

That’s right… Terrans…

It was a good thing Cassia knew the language.

Cassia watched Loress run back and saw Loress was little. In chatting with Loress and the others, she learned Loress was a big sister in age only and that was a fact—she was no bigger than the little ones!

Something in the air… stank. Like, really stank… Cassia wondered what it was. It smelled of soil, hard work, and sweat.

Mrs. Claystable hoofed Loress a sack, “Your father’s lunch, dear… Could you deliver it on your way?”

Loress chuckled, “He forgot again?”

“As with most days, dear.”

“Will do,” Loress stowed the sack lunch with the other contents of her bag.

“Thanks, Loress. Better hurry. And all the best to you!”

Loress’s cheeks reddened, “Thanks, Mother… I’ll try.”

“We know you will,” the older mare grinned. “Go.”

“Right!”

“Aaaaaand one more thing, Loress!” her mother’s voice stopped her.

“Yes…?” Loress looked back mischievously.

Her mother sparkled haplessly, “You’re not coming back into the house until you bathe yourself… you and your lucky vest.”

Joyful, the young Terran puffed her chest, hoofing the ratty thing, “You won’t be seeing my lucky vest again… I won’t be needing it anymore.”

Her mother looked confused but pleased. Cassia had been wondering what the stench was.

Loress took off to the chorus of goodbyes from her younger siblings, a smile pasted to her face. Cassia saw Loress was just a hair taller than her as she passed. Anywhere else on the continent she’d merely be the most beautiful mare in town… and not the shortest too. Loress was fast—faster than just about any Terran she’d seen.

Cassia was almost daunted to find she’d have to follow the speedy Loress. But with a tireless body and the fact she was walking a mindscape on her side, she leapt up and followed. It was nice to levitate, even if it was superficial; she’d never been very good at it.

Keeping close to Loress, it was a strange view; perhaps it was what a dog or a cat felt, bounding about underhoof of all the other creatures. But Cassia kept up.

A few ponies tossed Loress a “hello” or a “good morning” but most didn’t even seem to notice her; they had to look down to see her.

“Good morning, Mrs. Elderhut!”

Cassia had to stop to avoid gliding too far; the tiny Terran had stopped.

“Oh, good morning, Loress… How are you, dear?”

Before Delia stood a mare that made her decrepitness look positively youthful. Hunched and bent, she was still a little taller than Loress.

“I’m in a bit of a rush, Mrs. Elderhut, but here’s the pan back—the one from the brownies you gave us. The little ones loved them!”

The old mare beamed, “Oh, bless them, I’m glad… Not that I baked them… my servant Paubi did.”

Loress shined, “Oh? She showed me how to make a great egg-cream last week!”

“I know you showed her that recipe for pistachio-puff. That was certainly a hit. I guess you wouldn’t know yet, but she’s expecting her second foal!”

Loress smiled, “Congratulate her for me! It’ll be great for Edda to have a little brother or sister!”

Mrs. Elderhut snorked, “Hopefully the next one’s less of a flyer than the first… Those little Pegasi get into everything…”

Cassia had to remember the Terrans, like quite a few other ponies in the world, practiced slavery. It filled her with all sorts of unpleasant feelings… ones she’d tried to get away from her whole life. And Loress was an innocent, thinking nothing of it, chatting happily about all the baking she’d done with the young Paubi recently. She wanted to like the old mare, but… it was difficult.

Loress then hoofed Mrs. Elderhut the container, “Well, here you go.”

“I… oh!”

Loress chuckled, watching her old friend heft the pan.

“Oh… do I smell…?”

“You sure do! I wouldn’t give it back empty!”

“One of your famous carrot cakes!” Mrs. Elderhut almost squealed. “You shouldn’t have!”

Loress smiled big, blushing and hoofing the ground, “I wouldn’t call it famous… I made the cream cheese icing fresh this morning. And no walnuts in this one, of course! One of my sisters is allergic and I know you are.”

“It’s famous enough!” the old mare stated, eagerly hoofing the lid off the pan. “How many shops wanted to buy the recipe?”

Loress simpered, hoofing the back of her neck, “A couple… I just gave it to them. They sure sell enough of it though… ‘Claystable’s Carrot Cake’ they call it; that’s enough for me.”

Scooping a morsel of the cake, Mrs. Eldershed looked gleeful as she took a bite, “You know, Loress, if soldiering isn’t for you, you’d make a heck of a baker!”

Loress took on an air of discomfort, “Oh, I’ll be a soldier! And I like baking but… even then, I’d be stuck with my family’s work, first…”

“Do say ‘hello’ to your father from me, when you see him.”

“Stopping there first!”

“…First…?” the older mare chewed cake. “Oh, right…! Today’s the test!”

Loress puffed up, still shorter than the old one, “It sure is!”

“Well, don’t let me keep you.”

Loress was already on her way, “Bye!”

Smiling at the otherwise delightful Mrs. Eldershed, Cassia took off after Loress.

This is rather nice… not great, but all right.

Cassia knew Loress was a stable maid but had no idea for whom: the city’s surroundings grew increasingly nicer until they came upon the royal stables. That was slightly surprising.

“Father!” Loress called out on approach.

Out of a window came the head of a decently handsome stallion; he shared Loress’s black mane, “Oh, hello, honey!”

Loress closed in and her father realized why she was there; he knocked himself playfully on the noggin, “Ah… Again! I forgot… Hmm… Smells like… sewage today.”

Loress would’ve been hurt if it wasn’t a recurring father/daughter joke, “Oh, Father!”

Mr. Claystable guffawed, “It’s alright, dear… When I was your age, I had this lucky headband I never washed… I wore it until I made the infantry when I was 17.”

“Well, this lucky vest of mine is seeing the end of its career today…”

He dimpled at his daughter, “I’m sure your mother will be pleased.”

“Enough of that!” Loress pattered her hooves happily. “You haven’t guessed your lunch, yet!”

“I know… I know… Hmm… some kind of puff-pastry… I can still sniff it out.”

He came out of a side-door. Cassia’s jaw dropped; he was tall. Loress’s ear-tips didn’t even reach his shoulder.

Exaggeratingly sniffing the air, Loress’s father guessed, “Turnip pasties!”

Loress giggled, shaking her head, “Well, I suppose it smells a lot like it… Today’s shepherd’s pie.”

“Again?” he took on a look of mock-despair, ruffling her mane. “You’re going to bury us in the stuff…”

“Blame Mother,” Loress grumbled. “We had a little of everything and not much of one thing, so that means the pie.”

“It’s fine, dear… Nothing beats you in the kitchen!” he glowed.

Loress was tickled pink to hear this—and she certainly heard it a lot.

“Well, get it on ice. Gotta go!”

He halted her, “You know… if you wait a moment, I’ll come with you.”

Loress’s eyes glowed, “But you said…”

“Your mother’s busy and your brothers and sisters have their own lessons, but I’ve got a couple hours. Let me stow this delicious lunch and come with.”

Loress gushed, “You mean it? I mean… you don’t have to if it’s in the way… You’ve come to most of the others.”

Mr. Claystable cracked a smile, “It’s your 15th physical test! One for every year! And this is a big one! Most will have family in the peanut gallery.”

Loress almost jumped for joy, “Oh, thank you, Father! Let’s go!”

Mr. Claystable had to dig in to keep from being dragged by his “tiny” daughter, “The lunch!”

Cassia thought a moment, having heard what she had; she looked again at Loress and her father… and the rest of the Terrans nearby.

15?! Loress is 15-years-old here?!

It was difficult to fathom… little foals already the size of adult stallions. And Loress had so many “little” siblings.

Wow… Cassia mused and followed father and daughter.

The parade grounds at the fortress were set up with several stations and an obstacle course. The crowd assembled happily bustled about.

Cassia knew a little about Terrans: from the time Terrans could walk they trained to grasp their great physical strength. Throughout their lives they were monitored and at a certain age it was determined if they were fit for military service. If a Terran had the aptitude/desire to enter military service, it was cultivated in the later teen years.

In prominence was a banner:

“15 anno-IV”

Group four of the 15-year-olds… Cassia did not yet know the significance of the day but would soon learn.

“Better get in place, Loress,” Mr. Claystable’s voice pulled Cassia from her observations.

“Yes, Father,” Loress trotted off.

Cassia elected to follow Loress. If the size-difference with her siblings was surprising the difference seen compared to her classmates was staggering. Most of them were larger than Ama. And none of them were particularly attractive! It seemed Loress’s family was the exception.

Judging by Loress’s approach, Cassia knew the little beauty was in for some ridicule. And she wasn’t wrong.

“Well, if it isn’t the shrimp in her stink-vest!” a colt crowed.

“Good morning to you too, Pip,” Loress sighed heavily. “You even know what a shrimp is?”

Pip halted a second; he smiled, “I know it’s something small!”

A crowd guffawed, not entirely unkindly, and Loress appeared to stew.

A filly—easily twice Loress’s size—ruffled the small one’s mane, “The grapevine says you’re finally losing your lucky vest, today. That true?”

Loress shook out her mane, seeing it fall back into place, “You heard right, Aemilia.”

Another colt chuckled, hoofing the vest as if handling something dead and decaying, “Yeah… I’ve only seen you take this thing off during sparring… You’ve worn it for… What, three years?”

Loress gave a self-deprecating smirk, “Since our 12th year? Yeah. S’not like I’ve grown much…”

Aemilia patted Loress’s back—not much of a reach, “Your legs have gotten longer!”

The group laughed and Loress blushed.

“I guess…” Loress snorted.

Pip chimed in, “But today’s the big day, Loress. You’ve only just met the bare minimums for advancing to service candidacy—and only in a couple things! Do you really think you have a chance when we step it up?”

Loress looked as if she knew something, “We’ll see, I guess.”

The “merriment” broke up as a fanfare sounded. The young mares and stallions quickly got into a formation. The crowd watching silenced as a pony came into prominence.

“I welcome you, 15th Years, to the annual procession!” a uniformed stallion called out, his voice aided by a unicorn servant “amplifier”.

Cassia listened to the speech; looking about she didn’t catch all of it. From the time Terrans were young they were placed in a group—Loress’s being the fourth—of ponies born the same year. The 15th year was a monumental one: it was at this point the first “cut” would be made, determining which ponies would go on to be groomed for the military. From here ponies would be split up based on this, staying with their age-group. And not all ponies would make the final “cut” at the age of 17, to become military.

Cassia continued to look about.

The course was extensive: there was a long jump, a vertical leap, a vault, an obstacle course, and several things Cassia didn’t identify.

After the formalities, the young ones lined up for a weigh-in, while a list of their accomplishments was read.

The first colt was presented. He was a lanky fellow, but his physique betrayed great power. His record sounded impressive, though Cassia had no idea what to compare it to.

He was weighed.

“64.1 stone!”

Cassia did a take; that was just shy of 900 lb! But she recalled something.

She found it easy to forget: Terrans were about twice the weight of anypony their own size, due to their muscle structure… and there weren’t many bigger than a Terran.

Young ones came and went, their records stated; there wasn’t a whole lot of difference in much, other than between colts and fillies. Terrans weren’t known for anomalies—there were only a few very exceptional outliers.

Speaking of anomalies, a certain beauty’s turn came up. Her record was… less than impressive. Her lack of height and power caused her catalog to suffer. The only thing she was good at was sparring… and she was undefeated in that.

The attendant looked Loress up and down, unsure what to make of her even after all the years, “I guess you don’t need to remove your vest… doesn’t weigh anything.”

But Loress grinned, looking about. She undid her garment and dropped it to the ground.

Whump!

A cloud of dust rose up. This got a little attention. For more than a few seconds all was silent.

Cassia took in the sight… and knew something was up.

A colt paddled up, “This has been bugging me…”

Loress watched him… and so did a lot of others.

He casually hoofed the ratty vest and stopped short, “…What…?”

All eyes turned to him; he looked a bit stunned.

“It… won’t move.”

What…?!

Another colt chuckled, “It’s not like our hooves are useless.”

He ambled up and poked at the vest. Looking confused, he got a hoof underneath and was surprised to find it more than a little heavy. Terrans were strong. They were a lot stronger than any other race of ponies but heavy was heavy.

“Holy shit!” the colt exclaimed, dropping the vest and jumping to avoid crushing his hooves. “What’s this weigh?!”

Loress shook her body, grimacing and cracking a few things, “About 75 stone…”

Gasps came up from those in attendance.

“No way!”

“Nopony that small could walk, much less stand up straight in that!”

Cassia had to do the math… 1,050 lb.?!

Loress was carrying more than twice her bodyweight… Her hooves supported a weight greater than that of any of her classmates… and equal to some of the largest of Terrans. And she did this constantly, only taking it off to sleep, wash, and spar… and when her mother didn’t want the thing in the house. One could suppose she took it off in private, to test her actual abilities.

“But it’s cloth!” exclaimed another. “How?”

“Magic,” Loress said.

“Where’d you get it? Your family can’t afford any servants, much less magical ones!”

Loress didn’t answer any more questions.

But Cassia had already figured it out. Loress had friends that were magical… as much as a freepony and a slave could be friends, that is.

The little mare stepped onto the scale, free of her vest.

“33.5 stone!” called out the mare attending the scale.

A few laughs could be heard. She was by far the lightest, by more than 20 stone to the next.

But most of those present knew they were about to see something they’d never seen before.

And they surely did.

Loress jumped farther, higher, and with more skill than all the others. Nopony could outfight her, outrun her, or outmaneuver her. She cleared rooftops and fields. She set every record that day but one. And it was the only thing that might cook her goose: horsepower. It was the one thing she couldn’t “manipulate” with her training.

Cassia had never made sense of it but Terrans measured strength based on a unit of a “normal Earth pony stallion”. And she knew a Terran mare needed a score of 18-horsepower to be military material. Terrans grew a lot in their later teens so at this point a “10” was acceptable for a mare; greater strength came later.

Horsepower was determined in three exercises: the “pull”, the “carry”, and the “lift”. It was as simple as it sounded: they had to pull a slab of rock, carry a weighted frame a certain distance without touching the ground, and wedge themselves under a lever and lift whatever they could.

Loress just managed to squeak by here but the crowd was wowed, considering she outperformed a few of the fillies in her age group. Some didn’t make the cut, but Loress managed 10.5-horsepower.

While the future looked dire for Loress, she’d done what nopony expected. Her ponies—her family—couldn’t have been prouder. And Loress couldn’t have been prouder of herself.

Cassia saw the next year fly by. Loress, gaining more respect from her peers and uppers, saw her strength increase. And she grew some too… as much as she ever would.

The “cut-off” was higher the next year: 13-horsepower for mares. Loress achieved 13.1, the lowest of the scores. Some passing in horsepower failed anyway; it wasn’t the only attribute measured. Loress excelled in all else.

Things got “cloudier” for Cassia, the last year being much a blur. A lot of frustration plagued the young Loress. She trained more obsessively, shirking her love of baking and her friendships.

“Loress…” a stallion’s voice came clear.

Cassia recognized him as the stallion that had announced the 15th and 16th year observances.

“Yes, General?” Loress, looking more beautiful every year but also much more beat-up, stared back evenly in the general’s office.

The general sighed, “Loress… Don’t you think it’s time to stop this?”

Loress tried to hide her anger but it was thin, “Never, General.”

“Your aptitude just isn’t up to snuff. You’ve defied all expectations given your inherent lack of our race’s size and raw strength. But I don’t like what the council is suggesting!”

“Sir! My official horsepower is at 13.7. I will make 14! The test is a month away and that is time enough.”

“You topped out at 13.8 soon after the last exam and fell from there; you plateaued almost 10 months ago. 10 months at a 13.7 is unacceptable. This is your 17th year; you can’t plateau now.”

Loress gulped, “Sir… the council-”

“The council answers to me! I don’t answer to them and I have the final say in matters! They want to make an allowance! They want to lower the standards! For you?! You may be the most exceptional mare I’ve seen in all my years of service, but I have been against their choice from the start! Those standards have stood for centuries and they have stood for a reason!”

Loress looked scared, choosing her words carefully, “Sir… I mean no disrespect. The king bestowed upon you your rank for a reason, and-”

The general looked unmoved, “Why do you want to be a soldier, Loress?”

Loress had rehearsed the answer; she was caught unaware but stated, “I want to serve Terrow, General!”

“Why do you want to be a soldier, Loress?” The general repeated himself, with special emphasis.

Loress didn’t have a good answer for this; she almost mumbled, “Because that’s what Terrans are supposed to do…”

“A child’s answer…” the general breathed. “That toxic creed is the one thing I despise most—of all our faults as a race! I resent it!”

“…”

“Do you know what to serve is?”

Loress looked up, shrinking, “I… know.”

“Do you?” he asked. “Do you really?”

Loress couldn’t answer, “…”

“Your father served. He ever talk much about it?”

Loress could give an emphatic answer, “No. No, he doesn’t, General.”

The general sighed, “I want you to think about what it means to serve… and think hard.”

Loress almost whispered, “Yes…”

The general stood up, ushering Loress away, “Think hard.”

The scene faded out, rematerializing not a few days later.

“It’s my life!” Loress cried out. “Don’t take this from me!”

“And it’s my army!” the general coldly stated. “It comes down to me, in the end, and this is my final decision. The standard will not be lowered. It is physically impossible for you to attain 18-horsepower in three weeks—if at all—and you will not be participating in the last examination.”

Stunned murmers broke out among the class of 17th years. A lot had been made of lowering the standards… for the most exceptional mare of the generation.

Loress looked crushed; she was beyond tears and appeared to go into near-shock.

“General!” a stallion called out.

Cassia saw it was Pip; he was definitely older, a proper military-type.

“Yes, Pip?” the general asked evenly.

Pip stood before the general, “Sir… Nopony could match up to her! Nopony worked harder! Nopony was a better friend! Nopony…”

“What, Pip?” the general had waited a few seconds, Pip fading to silence.

“Nopony’s ever wanted this more!” Pip choked out. “Why now?”

The others waited with bated breath. Loress just stood there, not hearing much.

The general said with flatness, “It’s my decision. That is all, Pip…”

Pip retreated, looking both stunned and upset.

The general turned to the forlorn Loress, “Loress Claystable: I dismiss you from your military candidacy.”

Whether Loress heard or not, she turned and began to slowly paddle away, staring at the ground.

Her friends and classmates watched as she left, her head hung and tail drooping. Their dismay was a thing all its own.

…

Cassia floated about Loress’s mind. She wasn’t sure what to do. She was even less keen on reaming Loress after all she’d seen. Confused and upset, the only future she saw for herself dashed, Loress had retreated into herself. Unmoved by her family and friends, she took off from Terrow one day, in tears, with only a rucksack on her flank.

Cassia knew Loress wasn’t the same child anymore—she was much wiser and not the same filly that ran off from her home. She’d been through a lot since then.

It didn’t make much sense to Cassia how Loress had come up with the idea to break the gas-lines in Nuinhof but she herself was beyond holding it against her. She really was just a mare, in need of friends and lost in many ways.

Deciding it was time to “meet” Loress, Cassia went searching. She found Loress on a beach.

Cassia approached the Terran, sitting in the sand and staring out at the sea.

Loress heard her approach; she looked Cassia up and down, “Oh… Cassia.”

Cassia, knowing Loress had mind enough to create such a space, didn’t have to wonder why Loress recognized her, “Yes.”

“…”

Cassia sat down next to her, “Where’s this?”

“Before going west I went east… until I hit the sea. I’ll never forget seeing it for the first time.”

“I remember the first time I saw the sea… I was almost sold across it, but a bidder ‘saved’ me.”

Loress winced, “I wouldn’t have guessed you were a slave.”

Cassia sighed, “Don’t concern yourself with that… I’ve seen your life, you know…”

“This is a little more impressive than it was with Noach,” Loress admitted.

“Yes, I have a talent for ‘making the most’ of a pony’s mind,” Cassia said.

Loress sat a few minutes, choosing her words.

“It took a while—after all that—for me to figure why I had the rug pulled out from under me…”

Cassia thought this was a rather immature way to state this but… it wasn’t untrue, “I can’t imagine why, Loress…”

“Can’t you?”

Cassia said, “No. I really can’t.”

“I think it was my father.”

Cassia did a take, “Why say that?”

Loress shuffled hooves, “He never wanted me to be a soldier; he didn’t want it for any of us. And the general? He served with my father, years ago… They were good friends. My father retired a captain; he’d served as subordinate officer for all their careers, up until the general was a major. The general respected the council more than he let on… He might’ve embraced the change. But my father? He’d side with him in a heartbeat.”

“You think so?” Cassia mused. “He convinced him?”

“I do… Whether he actually requested it… or if the thought just rubbed off on him… That’s the part I’m unsure about.”

Cassia stared at the sky, “What if you’re right?”

“Oh, I’ll ask him… when I see him again,” Loress leaned back. “I forgave him already, if I’m right…”

“I’m glad to hear that,” Cassia let things settle out. “Your father must be quite a stallion.”

“He is…”

A sudden sniffle jostled Cassia; Loress was crying.

“What is it?” Cassia asked.

“…Do you know what it means to serve?”

Cassia hummed, “As in military service? You wouldn’t like what I have to say…”

Loress said blankly, “It is little more than to exert a government’s will… To kill.”

Loress was no fool, Cassia had realized… at least in some things.

“Yes,” Cassia agreed. “That’s more or less it… in the end.”

“I came to that same conclusion… even back then. And it didn’t change my mind… at least then.”

“You were young, Loress. Allow yourself that.”

“It was my dream, you know…” Loress said.

“It was,” Cassia acknowledged.

“Still…” Loress’s tear-choked voice came strong. “Knowing what I know now…”

Cassia lazily eyed the Terran maid, “Yes?”

A mixture of certainty and pain clouded Loress’s pretty face, “I’m so very, very glad… I’m not a soldier.”

They sat, the gulls crying and the waves crashing.

Cassia sighed, “You girls have seen things most soldiers never, ever see… and they’re fortunate for it.”

This was true. The raid outside of Renata… Facing a dragon… Not to mention some of the girls’ more personal experiences. The encounter with Radulf, in custody of those stallions that knew Noach, was a bit of a shock. She was most curious to know more but Loress didn’t know as much—she suspected—as somepony else might.

Silence reigned another moment.

Loress snuffled, “Cassia… I… don’t know what to say about Nuinhof. I… don’t remember much… Delia… she…”

“You don’t have to say another thing, Loress… I know…” Cassia had realized Loress hurt more than even she could readily detect.

Loress had been discerning, “She saved us… I’m not sure how she did it… and I think I know what you’re up to… but…”

Cassia shook her head, unwilling to discuss what was increasingly clear to her, “I won’t harm anypony.”

Loress stared between her hooves at the sand, “…”

“Well… that’s not entirely true,” Cassia admitted.

Loress perked up, bemused, “What?”

“You’ll wake up later…” Cassia turned from the Terran’s worried face.

It wasn’t as much that Cassia didn’t want to lie; she just felt very little love towards the irresolute mare.

So, Cassia left Loress on the beach. She knew—she had for a while—the young mares had been forced into a corner and acted upon it. She didn’t wish to push things onto Loress. But her less than malicious thoughts towards Loress did little to pacify her actual hate, still directed at one pony in particular. She didn’t want to listen to what the girls had to say in some matters. If they started making sense… things would become even clearer. And where would that leave Cassia?

Cassia came back to herself, aches, pains, and the knowledge of her dying back in full force. She gasped as her ribs sent a jolt of agony through her body. Almost collapsing she managed to keep her hooves.

In the next passage she could hear Essenta struggling with Delia’s anger in their enclosed space. Mere seconds had passed in the waking world, while she’d been “gone” for hours. It was something she’d never gotten used to, not in all her decades of being able to “walk” through the minds of others.

She turned her attention away from the two mares, helpless and harmless in the magic bubble, to the three remaining mares around her.

Wilka was still snoozing; Delia had resolved to look in on her last and she hadn’t changed her mind. Zyra was closer to waking than Cassia had expected but Delia again halted, again seeing, hearing, and sensing Ama’s struggles.

Her resolve—still weakening yet stubbornly remaining—had suffered a blow in her final moments with Loress. Her tired mind was insisting she lie down… sleep… and never stand up again.

But her hardening heart ached for the big mare, weeping in front of her. Cassia had enjoyed Ama’s company greatly… She would have loved to have a friend in her. And she wanted to sooth her suffering if she could.

That and the fact Ama was apparently Zyra’s closest friend among the girls compelled Cassia to enter Ama’s mind next.

The things Cassia had learned about Zyra were quite unsettling. She didn’t know everything but had pieced together a lot. A “war orphan” with great power that had the resolve to cook a murdering assassin alive yet permitted her to peacefully walk away from a chance for justice—not revenge, but true and deserved justice to which nopony had likely ever been more entitled—was more than intriguing. And it was all the more intriguing to her to see it from another point of view… from the outside in…

Ama was the key.

Hoping that risking a couple “real world” seconds before going for Zyra wouldn’t be her final undoing—she needed no help with dying—she entered Ama’s mind.

Author's Note

Check out the Appendix for Princess Essenta, updated as the story moves along. It shows the story's timeline and character designs. Contains spoilers.

Cassia, increasingly unsure of her actions, has set her mind on Ama. With Zyra and Wilka on deck, there is still some ground to cover. Not to mention the princess and their newest companion.

I was planning to have an extra-large chapter, covering three of the mares but didn't like how it read. I have a little more editing to do. "The Hearts of Maidens" will run five chapters... unless I decide to break it up even more. I'll try to keep it to five.

If you enjoy Princess Essenta, please take a look at Larkspur Blossom. A story of a colt finding his worth and making a better life for himself.

Also, look for The Virgin Company. A tale of a military pony and his platoon in a war centuries ago.

And if you're up for something less tasteful, check out my one-shot.

Like, follow, or leave a comment if you please. It's been fun writing and I'm glad some enjoy it.

Thanks for reading, and take care.

Chapter 56: The Hearts of Maidens, Part Four

Antecedence Arc

Ama was incapable of producing a distinct mindscape and Cassia found it to be no detriment. She was still able to establish a plane on which to walk.

As far as the mindscape went there was no reason for such a thing to be constructed.

She’d suspected, upon meeting Ama, that the Mazan possessed something she’d only seen a hoofful of times in her entire life.

Ama’s heart was pure as crystal.

Cassia knew Ama was at least admirable—just hearing about her—and further convinced of it upon meeting her. And she was almost sure of it after sharing with her the horrors Salvatrix had endured in the last months; she’d seen quite a bit of Ama in that exchange.

Ama’s mind was transparent. Even the things—silly, embarrassing, or awkward—she might have wished to hide were all plain to see. Not flawless or innocent—she enjoyed a filthy joke as much as any mare (and how wrong is that anyway?!)—she was basically unpolluted by the world around her.

Yes… the tall maiden—a mighty warrior that was the de facto champion of her entire race—had no meanness in her… no base hatred… no wickedness… She’d grown up with—or into—every “opportunity” and “excuse” to turn rotten or idle and had done neither.

The only “flaw” Cassia saw was that Ama couldn’t take it… some of what she’d been through.

She’d killed bandits, assassins, and wouldn’t hesitate to do anything to protect her friends. She’d even managed to put a lot of their troubles behind them. She’d brought Zyra back from the brink… kept faith during their troubles in “Last Chance” City… she really didn’t even detest Hagano, the pirate who’d left them to die in the desert.

And she’d kept Essenta from floundering, keeping her eye on the big picture when the princess needed to be woken up. It took a lot of grit to thoughtfully recognize—in the face of all they’d done and seen and all the fun and love they’d shared—that Dechaa and Delia’s lives were possibly forfeit… that six of the girls would have to run for their lives, never knowing what had happened to their friends.

But in all that Cassia saw—with the very possible exception of losing her temper and upsetting Master Pallo’s card-game her first and only time drunk—Ama had never done a truly shameful thing in her life.

She’d been a rock among ponies… a rock with the healthy sentiments of a healthy mare.

The most recent events were different, though. Ama was brokenhearted over all that had happened the last few days. All she’d done was pull the wagon out of Nuinhof, following Loress’s path and Delia’s instructions. A lot of ponies had died, and their “crimes” were no more than being afraid and desperate.

The “flaw” was no flaw at all. Ama knew the weight of life and treasured it… in all creatures.

Cassia didn’t even need to search for Ama; the Mazan was curled up amid all going on, weeping quietly, her body heaving in her sadness. Approaching her, Cassia noted Ama to be a lot smaller.

This wasn’t very surprising either, Ama taking the form of herself as a child. It wasn’t always clear why many ponies appeared as such but there was no questioning Ama’s goodness.

For the first time since entering Cassia looked upon herself. She was old… and she realized she hurt. Her heart, mind, and body all hurt. She wasn’t able to understand why… and she didn’t bother.

Cassia paddled up to Ama, feeling her entire age as well as the last day’s misery.

“Ama…” Cassia gently hoofed Ama’s shoulder.

Ama didn’t start or become alarmed; she merely turned her reddened, wet eyes up to Cassia, “Cassia…?”

Cassia only nodded.

“Γιατί είσαι εδώ?” Ama asked.

Why am I here…? Cassia wondered; she was less and less sure of why.

The old one looked down on the young one, betraying nothing.

And Ama returned her gaze downward to the surface of the plane. Her crying lessened but she went on shaking.

Cassia could’ve asked the little one why she was crying but that seemed a foolish—even cliché—thing; she sat down, “Ama…”

Little Ama recoiled when Cassia stroked her mane. It wasn’t that she was afraid but overwhelmed.

It had been years since Cassia had seen her own grandfoals. She was grandmother to many in Nuinhof but it wasn’t the same. Sitting with Ama, though, she felt the warm and familiar grandmotherly bloom inside. Maybe it was foolish, but it was there.

“Ama…”

The small one curled up tighter; she squeaked, “I am sorry… I am so sorry… I am sorry…”

“Shh… Shh…” Cassia soothed. “I know… I know…”

Ama sniffled, “I… did not want this to happen, I… I did not think this would happen… I could not imagine it…!”

“Shh… Shh…” Cassia went on stroking Ama’s gray mane. “It’s alright, Ama…”

Ama’s eyes, piercing even as a child, peered up, “How…? How is any of this alright…?”

Cassia inhaled and sighed deeply, “Well… it’s not… None of this is alright… But it’s not your fault.”

Ama’s next words surprised even Cassia, despite the candidness surrounding her.

“I know,” Ama whispered.

Cassia felt her mind flutter, hearing that. A pure mind was rare indeed.

Cassia had to collect herself; she soon inquired, “Are you feeling guilty about that? That you think that way?”

Cassia immediately regretted the foolish question; she knew Ama was far beyond such irrationality.

Ama took no offense; she didn’t even look for further meaning in the question, “No… I am just… so very sad…”

Cassia’s heartstrings were tugged at Ama’s tears… She felt her own eyes well up at the grief.

“I feel as if… the world is falling apart!” Ama wailed. “I feel… that… this is the end!”

Cassia kneaded Ama’s back, “Sit up.”

“…What…?” Ama hadn’t really heard.

“Sit up, dear,” Cassia bent over as best she could. “Let me look at you.”

Using about all the “strength” she had—they were in a mindscape after all—she aided Ama to a sitting position. Even sitting on her rump, it was obvious Ama was just about the same height as Cassia. Cassia couldn’t deny that Ama was rather pretty, even for a Mazan, especially considering her Terran father; Mazans had the benefit of bedding any stallion that would have them, allowing for some impressive genetics in their daughters. She couldn’t even begin to guess her age, though, as Ama appeared.

Taking in the vision of the attractive—but plain—filly, so blameless, Cassia felt ill, doing all she was doing. But she wouldn’t turn back, she was still sure enough of her decided task.

Still, she would give Ama the benefit of a doubt, regarding the future.

“Ama… I wish I knew what to say to you… to comfort you; I’m at a loss.”

Ama sniffled, unashamed of her tears but overcome, shy to making eye-contact.

“Ama… Ama, look at me.”

The Mazan managed, her blazing eyes swimming.

Cassia would promise Ama nothing. It hurt, bodily, that a mare like Ama had to be involved in all this. She cared, and yet… she didn’t. She’d be dead soon and it wouldn’t matter to her after that. But she believed in Ama enough to say a few things.

“I’ve seen your heart, Ama… and it’s a good one. You’ve—in your whole life—really done nothing to be ashamed of.”

Ama, whether she bought this or not, was listening, eyes falling, “…”

Cassia put a hoof under Ama’s chin, lifting her gaze, “You’re sad… dismayed by all this. But I know you want nothing more than to love and protect your friends… especially those needing it.”

Ama blinked hard, nodding.

“They’ll all need you, Ama… You need to be strong for them. And I know you will be.”

Cassia resolved to leave then. It hadn’t been in her to pick apart Ama’s mind in hopes of learning more. She couldn’t bear anymore to play in the mind of somepony who was so much better than she was…

Well, maybe they were all better than Cassia, but Ama was special.

Boooooooom…!

Cassia didn’t even startle at the explosions anymore. She’d walked through them, after all, intent on searching out the company.

Seeing that Wilka was still snoozing peacefully, Cassia barely hesitated.

She wouldn’t risk another second of waiting, with Zyra so close to waking.

Gleaning what she had from the other girls and knowing what she had pieced together Cassia had come to know Zyra’s mind wouldn’t be a pleasant place.

But she didn’t expect it to be in flames.

Cassia deduced the town to be Oswald, Zyra’s hometown, but it looked more like a vision of Hell.

Zyra’s mind wasn’t “scattered” as Dechaa’s was, but she was in the throes of a terrible nightmare… a condition she deduced was normal for Zyra, most nights.

Cassia couldn’t place where Zyra’s essence was, but she could pick up on traces of it. Those traces told her Zyra’s friends knew of this Hell, though she already knew that.

More strongly, the traces suggested Ama of all ponies was intimate with what surrounded Cassia. Cassia had seen a good deal of Ama’s life, but a brief encounter was a brief encounter. She’d noted something very unpleasant Ama had been through—something that took a very long time to conquer—and the whispers breezing past her ears called out for Ama.

Cassia realized that Ama was more familiar with this scene than anypony living besides Zyra. A guilty feeling bloomed inside her, wishing she’d done more than console Ama but knowing it would have been a terrible thing to put Ama through, as fragile as she was.

Ama was Zyra’s relief. It wasn’t infatuation but an ideal bond of trust towards the Mazan.

Cassia had to know more.

To her great discomfort, Cassia found herself unable to “fly” or “glide” around this very distinct mindscape. She was forced to walk; in her elderly body, with little physical or mental relief felt in this dreamworld, trotting and galloping were years behind her.

Cassia did manage to block out much of what she was seeing and hearing… the death and destruction and the screaming… It allowed her glimpses of Zyra’s life.

The youngest known initiate to a magic guild… such a talented filly… eager to learn and eager to please…

Her uncle betrayed her… betrayed his family and his city… to Aodh Radulf.

How horrible… Being in the part of the world she was she knew well enough who that was. And she realized he was very likely dead, though Zyra had passed on judging him herself. True grit...

Again, Cassia saw the night of the raid… and experienced the pain Zyra brought upon herself.

But there was great happiness to be seen too. Being taken in by Master Amelbert of Greendale… meeting the princess and Dechaa… growing up and becoming a mare alongside them… running away from Greendale at a moment’s notice… meeting Ama… and Loress and Wilka and Orni and even Delia.

The girls had been through a lot together.

And at the end of it all was Ama. She was the pony to brave Zyra’s memories. Six weeks Ama had worked alongside Master Noach, seeking out Zyra’s essence. She was the pony that assured Zyra she wasn’t a monster, with the terrifying Fire Diamond embedded next to her beating heart.

Six weeks… Six weeks… Even with the help of Noach—no slouch in head-magic—the two traveled six weeks to find Zyra. And Ama had continued for time untold on her own, in darkness, with only Zyra’s faint call for help guiding her.

Cassia knew of the pain in Noach’s heart—she knew him, after all—and she had pain in her own heart. But even with Noach having the shared pain of losing his family as Zyra had, he’d been unable to connect… to find her.

It took a friend… a true friend... to reach Zyra’s heart of hearts. And it still took Ama weeks when Zyra had locked herself off.

Zyra wasn’t locked off, but her heart wasn’t open… to Cassia at least. And she realized—then and there—she wouldn’t be able to reach Zyra.

The fact Zyra’s magic had ignited Cassia’s city seemed the least important thing about the little mage. Cassia couldn’t even bring herself to blame Zyra for the action.

Cassia almost collapsed coming out of Zyra’s mind; her legs buckled, and she wheezed, her broken ribs haunting her every move.

She fell to her rump to catch her wind. It was most unpleasant when even breathing hurt.

Gazing at the now peacefully sleeping Zyra, she could tell the mare was no longer suffering. At least the nightmare was over for Zyra… the one in her mind, that is.

Cassia’s mind was swimming… The mares had something special… and she was regretting her path more than ever.

It wasn’t Zyra’s fault. None of the girls were at fault.

But Cassia wasn’t ready to accept that.

Cassia set her sights to Wilka, finally. She still had the princess and Delia to deal with but Wilka had to be first.

A feeling… that something unbelievable… something sick waited for her crept up on Cassia. Orni had verbally warned her and a sensation of “varying comprehension” in the others told her something dreadful lay behind the gorgeous, petite Pegasus’s sleeping face.

But Cassia still felt nothing of great note from Wilka.

Nothing.

Knowing she didn’t have a lot of time, Cassia lulled Wilka into a deeper sleep and entered. Whatever was there she’d soon enough find out.

Author's Note

Check out the Appendix for Princess Essenta, updated as the story moves along. It shows the story's timeline and character designs. Contains spoilers.

I finally settled on Greek as the Mazan language. I studied New Testament some when I was acting pastor at a chruch. Gotta know some Greek for N.T.

Cassia's still confounded as she tries to sift through the mares' minds, less and less clear of what she is even doing.

But now it's Wilka's turn. And then Essenta's and Delia's.

The five chapter mini-arc finishes up next time.

If you enjoy Princess Essenta, please take a look at Larkspur Blossom. A story of a colt finding his worth and making a better life for himself.

Also, look for The Virgin Company. A tale of a military pony and his platoon in a war centuries ago.

And if you're up for something less tasteful, check out my one-shot.

Like, follow, or leave a comment if you please. It's been fun writing and I'm glad some enjoy it.

Thanks for reading, and take care.

Chapter 57: The Hearts of Maidens, Part Five

Antecedence Arc

If Cassia had taken the time and the initiative to press Orni about Wilka she would’ve known about the hyper-storm of resistance and raw emotion that greeted Orni and Noach when the two of them ventured to the "Wilka side" of the shared Orni/Wilka mindscape.

Totally ignorant to such a phenomenon, it was also the thing farthest from Cassia’s mind.

Wika’s mind provided no such resistance, offering neither a corporeal plane or any direction.

On top of being in a more deeply induced state of sleep, Wilka was having a dreamless sleep. Cassia was a bit surprised; probing a mind almost always sparked activity. In Wilka’s case it hadn’t in this instance. It wasn’t alarming though; Cassia saw it occasionally, about as often as she met a pony capable of a corporeal mindscape.

She was actually unsure of where to go… she was lazily floating about in an apparent void.

But concentrating alerted her to some commotion; it was very faint and there were several isolated origins. She gravitated towards the strongest one.

…

Cassia soon found herself in a place she hadn’t seen since she was a teenager… and she hadn’t “participated” in such a thing since she was a little filly.

A unicorn stood on a crude stage, in some port city. Cassia, naturally invisible and otherwise unable to interact with the world, could smell the gamy sea air and hear the cries of gulls.

Even an ordinary-minded pony could create something vivid… if the memory was as such.

A gavel held in his magical “grip”, the unicorn slammed it on a podium in front of him, “Going… Going… and… Sold…! Sold to the stallion from Sosa for three ounces of gold!”

Cassia’s jaw dropped; she could scarce believe she hadn’t noticed right away…

A mare, looking quite worn-out for somepony in her 20’s, stood chained stage-center. Her hollow eyes and sunken face were all too familiar to Cassia… She’d seen it in so many ponies…

She was at a slave auction.

A sensation Cassia hadn’t felt in about seven decades coursed through her body. It was something she’d never been able to put a name to until she was much older…

…Despair…

Now the raw emotion and hopelessness pervading the mindscape were evident. Cassia had been protecting herself, on the very basest level; it was that simple. It was why she hadn’t picked up on a thing until she was inside… why she couldn’t read Wilka.

Watching in familiar horror, Cassia saw the shell of a mare led away; she moved as a ghost.

The crowd was bored; it had been a very lackluster day so far, culminating in some broken-down fuck-doll being sold off for the price of a decent wagon.

The ponies—almost all stallions—were evidently from every walk of life: some were seasoned slavers, some rich almost beyond imagining, some were pimps… some were just small-time farmers looking to buy some cheap labor.

And they were almost mutinous; the day had been such a sorry affair for anypony interested in buying, on top of being a sorry affair for the souls on the auction block.

The announcing unicorn shushed the murmuring crowd and it took a moment.

“Now, now… If you think that’s all we have today then you don’t know us very well, do you?”

The crowd immediately perked up, some even crowing with mirth and catcalling. It seemed a normal thing, their sedition giving way to laughter.

“Oh, no… We have something very special today!”

Cassia saw the response in the onlookers—that specific reaction—only seen when…!

Cassia would’ve vomited if she was capable of such a thing in her state. There was only one reason the potential buyers would drool the way they were...

“Yes, special indeed! Fresh from our expedition north—from the coast of Tomar—we have the most beautiful little filly!”

The crowd roared in that same, visceral way Cassia recollected so well. Her mind, heart, and entire being cried for her to escape but something kept her watching.

“Don’t let her size fool you—she’s older than she appears!”

No… Cassia felt a great pressure crushing her very heart.

“Nine-years-old—a virgin, of course—she’s already flowered! A Pegasus of outstanding stock, I’m proud to present to you… Tessa!”

Cassia saw why she was there… what she was looking for, or rather, simply what was waiting for her. She had already realized what was going on… even before seeing Wilka dragged onto the stage.

In Wilka’s eyes she saw the same fear that had paralyzed her, all those decades ago. Wilka was beyond tears… she was beyond wetting or soiling herself… All she could do was stand there, quivering, her chains rattling.

Ooh’s and ahh’s and even gasps could be heard from the spectators. Most of them had never seen such a beautiful pony… and so young.

Waving his hooves, the unicorn announcer was beaming, “Yes! This is Tessa of Tomar! That’s her natural mane-color, everypony; I can assure you of that!”

Wilka’s head hung, letting her golden locks fall to the side of her face, as she attempted in vain to hide herself. The crowd’s excitement only rose.

The announcer simpered, “I could go on, but I don’t think that’s necessary, do you?!”

Those in attendance laughed and whooped; they were in agreement.

“Since we haven’t had a specimen this fine in five whole years, I think she’s worth a bit…”

Guffaws could be heard. “Tessa” certainly was.

“And I admit, pickings were a little slim today, so I’m sure somepony’s up to the task,” the unicorn continued to prod them.

“Yer damn right! Let’s get this show on the road!” a stallion cupped his hooves to his mouth.

Jeers could be heard, as well as similar statements.

The announcer waved them down, “Serious bets only! We’re going to start the bidding at… 500 ounces!

Cassia’s mind blanked a moment… It was obscene! She’d never seen a pony even sold that high.

More than 30 pounds of gold…

It was shocking.

But the bidders, some with more money than most could ever dream of fully expending, were eager. And those there for a cheap find gladly egged them on.

Cassia was aghast, seeing this unfold.

500 ounces… 520… 550… 575… 650… 655… 670… 800… 850… 900…

It was unbelievable.

1,150… 1,200…

…

“Going… Going… Going… and… Sold!” the unicorn cried. “Sold to Master Phestos of the Adelardo Peninsula for 4,400 ounces of pure, yellow gold! Yellow as the glorious mane on this lovely little Pegasus!

Cassia was better at arithmetic than many… 275 pounds of gold…!

On stage, Wilka had gone to her knees; she was near-catatonic.

“You’ll have to allow me a couple days to pull all that precious metal together, my dear auctioneer!”

Cassia followed the voice and saw a stallion with a wardrobe worth the sugarcane harvest of Nuinhof. He had a lazy, but cruel look about him and was being congratulated and lauded by those around him.

The auctioneer waved, “No problem, sir, I know you’re more than good for it! Thanks very much for your incredible generosity!”

Master Phestos took on an air of superiority, addressing not only the auctioneer but the masses, “I know I haven’t paid for her yet, but would you mind if I… claim her?”

Knowing laughter and hoots erupted from those around him.

Claim her? Cassia’s stomach sank. No…

The auctioneer waggled a hoof, “You know the policy, sir… not until she’s paid for!”

The crowd booed him, eliciting mirth from Master Phestos.

Master Phestos calmed them down, smiling at them; he looked back to the auctioneer, “I’ve never spent that much on ten slaves…! How about… we meet in the middle?”

The auctioneer looked around, taking in the fresh cheers of those before him; he had little choice than to see what “the middle” was, “What did you have in mind?”

Master Phestos called, “I can drop 1,000 ounces right now… and we all can go drink this city dry on my fortune!”

The ponies roared; even the auctioneer grinned, “You got a deal! We’ll even help you out!”

Cassia watched in revulsion, still unable to pull herself away, as Master Phestos led his entourage to the stage. She felt a twinge in her hoof… the marked one.

Forking over sacks of gold bars, carried by a couple of slaves dressed better than most of the audience, Master Phestos gestured with his hoof. Another slave unwrapped a long rod, presenting it to Master Phestos.

The slaves all backed off, staring downward; they knew their place and kept silent.

Master Phestos, a unicorn, levitated the branding iron, inserting it into the bucket of hot coals supplied by the auction staff.

And Cassia, powerless to pull her eyes away, watched as the bottom of Wilka’s hoof was branded. She vividly remembered the pain and the smell, two things she’d never, ever forget; her own hoof hurt now, phantom pains coursing through her entire body.

The little Pegasus was totally out of it, not heeding or even noticing the auction staff holding her. But she came to her senses, shrieking in agony as the brand came down. Master Phestos held it until he was sure he had a good one, Wilka heaving against those restraining her to no avail.

Wilka became faint, tears leaking from her deadened eyes, as she fell to her haunches.

Master Phestos made a further exploit of it, wafting from the iron the stench of burning flesh towards his nostrils, much to the amusement of all.

Cassia could just make out the brand, displayed for the watching eyes: a small pine tree.

Wilka had been branded as the very lowest of slaves… yet the most desired, and Cassia knew at once what sort of future was in store for the petite Pegasus she still knew next to nothing about.

And that was that.

The crowd shouted in frenzy. Not only had they seen one Hell of a bidding war and a show of the power of money over life, they were about to party the night away on the gold of a very special benefactor.

The scene faded out and Cassia knew Wilka had lost consciousness.

Cassia couldn’t take another second. Things she hadn’t even consciously remembered came back to her in droves.

Screaming, she finally pulled herself away, free of the awful gravity of the vision.

The old psychic fell to her side upon returning to the waking world. She hadn’t been capable of most bodily functions in the mindscape, but she certainly was in her current situation.

The old mare vomited on the rock floor, now sobbing as she curled up. Unpleasant warmth and wetness made itself known at the back of her ragged garment. She’d been so taken aback by the scene she’d begun to void her bladder and bowels upon coming out; the dreadful mess joined the blood and other foulness brought on by her rape earlier.

It was beyond appalling, what she’d just experienced…

Truly, the whole last couple of days had been beyond the pale.

What am I doing?! Cassia’s mind was spinning. What…?

The mare sobbed anew and found herself unable to move a moment.

Cassia may have died, right there, on her side but her adrenaline was firing. It kept her alive and she managed to stagger to her hooves.

She saw Wilka was no longer sleeping peacefully but in the throes of a fresh nightmare. It was regrettable to say the least but what going back was there?

Cassia’s only thought was to look at Wilka’s hoof. Fumbling, she upturned the appendage.

Nothing!

The pink mare’s hoof was unadorned by anything, pine tree brand or otherwise… just pink and pretty as a flower.

Cassia gasped out loud, “A dream…? A hallucination…?!”

Had Wilka simply been having a nightmare? It seemed so very real, but Cassia had heard of such and had experienced such, in all the years she’d been looking into the minds of others. Even she could be fooled.

Still holding Wilka’s hoof, Cassia began to notice something she’d neither been looking for or expecting from the tiny mare. A strange energy was discernable.

What is this? Cassia shallowly felt out Wilka. Truly, what is this…?!

It was a force she’d never felt… at least in such strength and volume.

A regenerator…?! Cassia couldn’t believe it. No…

She wouldn’t believe it. The tiny pink and blonde beauty fretfully sleeping before her was a regenerator?! And a powerful one?

It couldn’t be right. Cassia was more than curious to learn more… but her fear of re-entering Wilka’s mind was far more commanding.

Stubbornly pushing what she’d just suffered as far out of mind as possible, she left Wilka to her nightmares and went to confront Essenta and Delia.

It must be restated that only a few minutes had passed in the waking realm since Cassia had “bubble-wrapped” Essenta and Delia. And most of her time in the girls’ sleeping-chamber had been spent lying in her own filth, trying to get her hooves back under her.

Cassia looked upon the princess and the former maid. Essenta looked rather calm, or at least in control; she knew she was powerless. Delia, though, threw a new fit when Cassia reappeared before them.

Essenta cried out as the silently roaring Delia was going bonkers behind her.

Cassia grimaced at Delia; she was repelled, “That cunt of a mare…”

Essenta was saved from Delia’s wrath when Cassia magicked her out of the bubble.

The princess yelped as she hit the floor. Before she could move Cassia propelled her across the floor and into the wall.

“There you go, Princess…” Cassia magically pressed her to the wall.

Essenta struggled but was unable to move; she was stuck there.

Cassia turned back to the bubble. Delia was there, viciously pounding on the offending barrier, eyes wild and spittle flying from her mouth as she screamed noiselessly.

Cassia lit up her horn; she’d never been good at reading lips, “This is a waste of my energy; let’s change that…”

The muffling spell was lifted, and Delia’s voice rang out in the cavern.

“Let me out of this motherfucking bubble, you dried-up, fossilized cuntrag! I’m gonna slit your fucking throat, pop off your head to make sure you’re dead, and shit down your neck!”

Cassia allowed it a moment and Delia went on and on, moving to more creative vulgarity; Essenta was positive she’d never even heard some of the words and Delia had taught her a few the day she’d chewed out Clovis, weeks back.

Then Delia began to make no sense, her rambling rage dwarfing what Cassia had seen in Dechaa’s memory.

Cassia soon tired of it, “That’s enough…”

With that the bubble went opaque and the incredible profanity was replaced by muffled screaming—probably just more of the same bad language. The pounding on the sides of the bubble only increased.

“No!” Essenta cried.

“She’s fine,” Cassia breathed. “Listen.”

Essenta did. And Delia was likely fine; she just sounded angry, rather than hurt or dying.

Cassia sat down heavily; she would never stand on four legs again. It was decidedly comfortable, sitting on her haunches.

“I need to talk to you, Essenta…”

“But… Delia!” Essenta wasn’t struggling but in distress.

Cassia shook her head, “I said she’s fine… She can’t see or hear us.”

Essenta relaxed, as much as she was able; she was neither comfortable or fearless, “…What do you want?”

Cassia wasn’t up for niceties and it didn’t bother her that the princess wasn’t beating around the bush. It was slightly admirable Essenta wasn’t reduced to a panicky mess. Yet.

“To talk…” Cassia stated.

Boooooom…!

Essenta recoiled while Cassia sat stoically.

Essenta found herself initiating their exchange, “…Just what are those things?”

Cassia looked strangely at her, “Airships, child… You know that already.”

Essenta wondered, “Did you know about them?”

Cassia shook her head, “Beyond rumors something awful was being constructed, deep in the jungle, no… But seeing a second one… that shocked me as much as it did you girls.”

“Are there more?!” Essenta spouted; it was a thought bothering her since before lunch.

Cassia looked annoyed, “I don’t know… I’ve never seen them before today. But if they can spare two to come to a city of size with little importance other than the sugarcane then they likely have a resource of them…”

Essenta considered, “It’s logical…”

“Certainly… and you seem like a fairly logical mare.”

Essenta could never brag herself up as such; she was a mess and she knew it, “I… can be.”

Cassia smirked, “You’re not a ‘mess’, Princess… You’re young… far too young to have taken such a thing upon yourself.”

Essenta gulped, “I know… I know that very well, now.”

“Your father… he was a fool to offer you such a thing… I imagine he and his ilk felt rather stupid when you and the unicorns ran off that afternoon.”

Essenta felt rather stupid she’d pulled seven mares into such a situation; she stewed a moment.

“I know what kind of stallion your father is, Essenta… I know the things he’s done… Many do…”

“…!” Essenta wished to disappear, thoughts of her father surfacing.

“I’ve seen your journey, Essenta… It’s quite a thing you’ve accomplished so far.”

The princess said bitterly, “The last couple of weeks should’ve never happened… None of this…”

Cassia hadn’t expected the princess to give into wallowing so fast.

“But it did, Essenta. It all did. And while you and the little Knollwing were sitting pretty out here, your friends destroyed my city…!”

Essenta shivered at the edge in Cassia’s voice, “…”

“Nothing to say?” Cassia scowled. “It’s not surprising. Things got out of hoof fast and things got desperate just the same.”

Essenta dared raise her eyes, “…I don’t know what to say…”

“I do…” Cassia’s eyes sparked. “You’ve assembled a group of mares, the likes of which the world’s never seen. Do you have any idea what sort of power you possess, with them following you?”

Deep down, Essenta did know; she just hadn’t thought about it much. They were young, powerful, dynamic, and dangerous… and she was likely the least of them.

Cassia nodded, “You’re not incorrect in your thinking, Essenta… A smart leader surrounds herself with greatness. Your oldest friends are mighty enough… I suppose you never imagined, that day you three ran away that you’d pick up such a bunch on your way here.”

The princess just listened.

“You have no small charisma, Princess. Your ambition has seen quite a blow but it’s not a normal mare that can bring to her side a Terran, a true-blooded Knollwing, a good fighting Pegasus, and the strongest Mazan in history.”

Essenta did a take; Cassia had left out Delia…

Cassia spoke again, interrupting Essenta’s thinking, “You’ve gathered the greatest band of misfits I’ve ever seen in all my decades and you’re just some foolish princess who hates what she is and took upon yourself a mantle you cannot hope to live up to. You’re not playing with fire… You’re playing with Hell on Earth!”

Essenta shuddered at the emphasis; she was good and scared, alright.

“You fool… Dechaa is broken.”

“…What?” the innocent question came.

Cassia spat, “Your best friend is ready to blow up on all of you and I don’t mean in anger; she’s ready to fall off the edge.”

Essenta tensed up, “What do you mean?”

“You’re a damned idiot if you haven’t seen it. All the time—all the years—you spent with her, you’ve been pushing and pushing and pushing her! And so has pretty much everypony else she's ever known! She’s blown up at you a few times in your life, but you have no idea what haunts her!”

This offended Essenta; the princess wasn’t completely wrong in her feeling, “I know Dechaa! It’s you that doesn’t know her! You think that picking around in her brain gives you the right to say that?!”

This was the stupidest thing Cassia had heard all day, “It does, you twit! You have no idea what she’s been burying in her heart! Your sister probably knows more than you do! Dechaa… her rage is about to consume her!”

“Rage…?”

“Yes, you fool, her rage! And it’s going to destroy you if you let it!”

Essenta began turning this over in her mind but Cassia had other things to say.

“The power Zyra has is beyond terrifying, Essenta! And Ama’s the only one among you to know the extent of it; she saw it. After the raid, if it hadn’t been for Ama… well…”

“Ama?” Essenta asked, confused; she knew Ama and Zyra were close, but things were just moving fast.

Cassia actually looked pleased to say what she did, “Whether you know it or not, Essenta, Ama is the most splendid mare I’ve ever encountered!”

Essenta nodded, thoughtful, “Yes… she’s wonderful.”

“She’s more than that, Essenta. I’ve never seen a pony as pure as she is… The fact she’s remained that way with what you’ve all seen and put her through—even with her unusual fortitude—is astonishing!”

Essenta knew she was fortunate to have a friend in Ama; she’d saved her from despair.

“Zyra has a strength of her own… I… When I finally escaped my old life… I… left nopony alive that got in my way. They all died for what they did to me. That Zyra was able to walk away from Aodh Radulf—a chance to kill him… even just to watch him die—she has a strength I could never hope to possess!”

Cassia knew Essenta knew what she used to be… Something told the old mare Delia had enlightened her on many matters, including the fact she was a pleasure-slave the first couple decades of her life.

Essenta acknowledged, “I know… Zyra’s a wonder all her own…”

“But she’s not any safer than Dechaa from the edge, if things keep going as they are. She’ll need her friends, Essenta. She’ll need Ama.”

Essenta nodded.

Cassia relished describing mares as impressive as Ama and Zyra; but she had tougher words for another matter, “Your young ones, though, Princess… you’ve done a sorry job of protecting them!”

That stung… though Essenta couldn’t deny it was true; she hung her head, remembering the trouble after Renata… the trouble in “Last Chance” City…

Cassia huffed, “Orni’s fine enough… you know she’s strong, don’t you?”

Essenta nodded.

“Wilka though…”

“Yes?” Essenta was concerned, given Cassia’s tone.

Cassia took a moment; she weighed what she was about to say, “Something I wish to know, Essenta…”

“What?” Essenta had little idea of what it might have been; there was so much to know.

“Is Wilka a regenerator?”

Essenta jarred; it was maybe the last thing on her own mind, “Why?”

Cassia’s eyes narrowed, “Answer me.”

Essenta, completely unsure about the situation, nodded, “…Yes… she is. She’s a master, though, her, she’ll say otherwise. She… fought Loress before joining us and broke her leg. She fixed her broken leg in a few seconds… It upset me so much I threw up.”

Stricken, Cassia realized it was true: Wilka had lived the same life she had, and the one Delia had so narrowly avoided.

Or maybe it was all some terrible hallucination… Cassia didn’t know, and she didn’t want to know.

It hurt Cassia, either way, and she came close to tears again, the old wounds scraped raw.

The old mare was pained, and it came through in her speech, “The best thing you could do is split up and go your separate ways, but you’ve already considered that… I can see you have…”

“…Yes…”

Booooom…!

Cassia had been reduced to an emotional mess; the concussions jarred her now, in her fragility.

Essenta looked over the old mare, dying and in so much pain, and felt pity… More than anything she felt pity.

But something was bothering her; she wasn’t sure what made her say it, but it came out.

Essenta glanced to the opaque bubble, still jostled by the occasional flare of Delia’s temper.

“…What about Delia…?” Essenta breathed.

Cassia twitched and looked at Essenta with venom, “What about her?”

Essenta didn’t answer, “…”

Cassia scowled, “Why I haven’t addressed her? I have a few things to say to her but only after you’re done…”

Essenta assumed Cassia would do something to Delia but it wasn’t clear what, “You said she’d be fine!”

“And she will be… Call it a… test… a test of her character.”

“What the Hell are you talking about?” Essenta cried.

“The biggest mistake… in all you’ve done and seen… is bringing somepony like her on this shit of a quest you’re never going to succeed in.”

Essenta knew this wasn’t true, “I… don’t know what you want to hear… But she’s not evil or anything! She’s… just…”

“She’s going to pay for what she’s done… or… somepony will pay.”

…

A chill filled the room.

Essenta gawked.

“All this… is to punish Delia?” Essenta was finally catching on. “Or… us?”

Cassia’s nostrils flared, “…”

“You… you just hate Delia…” Essenta slowly formulated. “You really do…”

“What gave that away?” Cassia hissed, the slightest leer visible.

“No, I mean… that’s all there is…!”

“…” Cassia sat coolly.

“It is!”

A few seconds of silence sounded between them.

“You’re right…” Cassia admitted.

Booooooom…!

The commotion outside gave all the more power to Cassia’s declaration.

Essenta wilted, hearing that.

In her explorations of all the girls’ mindscapes Cassia had questioned what she was doing more than once. She’d even come close to relenting, a few times. But she had finally made up her mind.

Delia would suffer… if she had the heart to suffer.

Cassia began, “The air force is out looking for you… You’re right in your thinking. They’ll overturn this place looking for you… They’ll swarm this land to find you… dead or alive. I can’t say if you’ll live or not… I can’t even say if you’ll wake up again.”

Essenta juked, “What…?”

“I came close to changing my mind, more than once… Ama’s the most splendid pony I’ve ever met… and Zyra and Wilka and even Orni have been through so much…”

Essenta, having received more than mixed signals regarding their little Pegasus for weeks, inhaled, “Wilka…?”

Cassia gave a miserable, crooked grin, “I know you’re curious… Maybe you’ll finally have a chance to ask her…”

Essenta’s mouth worked but nothing came out, “…”

“I’m putting you to bed, Essenta… as with the six other girls I’ve already ‘chatted’ with. You won’t wake up—if you do at all—until well into tomorrow, I can guarantee that, if any of you even live that long. But one of you will stay awake…”

Essenta felt sick, noting the air off Cassia, “Delia…”

Cassia smirked at the princess’s breathless realization, “Yes… your fate is up to her.”

BOOOOOOOOOOM…!

Essenta shuddered at the continuing concussions, eyes further showing awareness of the situation, “You can’t…”

“Of course I can.”

Essenta whimpered, “Delia never wanted to hurt anypony! None of us did! We can’t change what happened but… you’re blaming the wrong ponies!”

“Am I?”

The princess couldn’t help herself; now she was panicking and shrieked, “If this is Delia’s fault—if you really blame her—then don’t take it out on all of us!”

Essenta recoiled, disgusted by her own words… but she was freaking out and didn’t dwell long.

“You didn’t start this, but you brought this new thing upon us, Essenta,” Cassia hissed, staring into Essenta’s watering eyes. “You all took away the last bit of happiness in my life! The eight of you will reap the reward of your ‘chance’ encounter with all this. So, I’m leaving it up to chance.”

“Chance…?!” Essenta was revolted; her eyes ran with terrified tears. “This isn’t chance! You’re choosing this for us!”

Cassia wasn’t overly concerned with the semantics, “All the same it’s out of your hooves, Princess. Delia… she managed to drag them out of the jungle; she almost killed herself getting them out…”

Essenta was appalled, preoccupied with what she now knew to be facing, “No…”

“Maybe she’ll save you… Maybe she’ll die trying… Maybe she’ll just run for her own life. She’s a survivor, Essenta, first and foremost.”

“B-b-b-b-but this is wrong!” Essenta bawled. “You can’t pin this on her!”

Cassia knew it wasn’t a matter of faithlessness in the former maid; it was the stark understanding they had little chance, no matter what, “Have a little faith… in that cunt of a mare you were stupid enough to call your friend.”

“No!” Essenta sobbed.“Please don’t do this to us!”

“Sleep…!”

Essenta went silent. Her swimming eyes shut and she keeled over, limp as a noodle. Cassia took care to not let her face smack the rocky floor.

With that one, final act, Cassia’s magic ceased; she would never perform it again. With a whimper, she herself fell over; she would never get her hooves under her again.

The spell holding Delia was consciously maintained. Within seconds of Essenta clocking out the bubble burst, dropping the former maid and ending her cussing session.

“Yipe!” Delia cried, hitting the floor; she’d not seen or heard a thing other than herself for several minutes.

Behind her, Delia heard labored breathing. Shaking off her surprise she rounded on it, ready to fight.

But the sight that greeted her sapped her desire to kill; it fell off like syphilis.

Taking in the image Delia inched over, wide-eyed.

“…Cassia…” Delia breathed.

The mare she’d grown to hate over the last moments lay before her, small and helpless. She was on her way out.

It was strange… Delia’s anger lessened only slightly but the hate was numbed; she was dismayed by what she saw and was no longer sure of what she’d do.

She could only ask, “Cassia… Why?”

Cassia knew well enough what Delia meant; there was only one mare—maybe two—Cassia had a decent enough reason to kill.

The old mare wheezed; “Fair question… I… wasn’t thinking much… I was blinded by anger… I wish I hadn’t put them through that…”

Delia nodded slowly, a lump building in her throat, “Well… I can’t blame you…”

It seemed a weak statement but was true.

“They’ll be alright, Delia… after I’m gone, they’ll wake up.”

Delia nodded. She didn’t think Cassia was evil. Able to clear her mind of some of her fury… Delia felt Cassia had simply done such things in her own fury.

Was it forgivable?

…

But Delia wasn’t thinking about that; she had eyes for only one thing… one pony.

Delia sat a long moment, just watching Cassia. It was her vigil… her place… to stay with Cassia. She had no intention of leaving her side.

Soon, Cassia’s eyes welled up; she strangled out, “So many ponies…! So many… Delia… they’ve been through so much… They just wanted to live…!”

Delia’s insides wrung, “I know…”

“They just wanted to live, and you killed them…!” Cassia wailed.

Delia clenched her teeth, choking on her own confused emotions, “I did…”

Cassia huddled up as much as she could; she was so weak, “The world’s gone mad…”

“…!”

“I’ve lived too long…! I want to die…!”

This was hard to listen to, and even harder to watch, for the former maid. She realized Cassia wasn’t addressing her; she was addressing Heaven… God… something else… Delia listened to Cassia’s dying cries; the old mare wept as if the world had gone mad… had lost all its senses.

Perhaps it had.

“Please let me die!” Cassia sobbed, weakly jerking her hooves, crying out to that unseen something.

Delia’s jaw tightened further; her jaw hurt. She knew Cassia was weaving between life and death… between reality and… her own world, brought on in the end.

But the cries lessened and soon lucidity returned to Cassia, though it was hard to say how long she’d remain there with it.

…

“What is it you’ll do, Delia?” Cassia’s question came like a quiet shot in the dark.

Delia was exhausted mentally; she’d just realized she was so, and it took a few seconds to formulate an answer, “Get the girls to safety… or try to. We were planning on leaving at dark before you showed up.”

“Don’t worry… they’ll wake up when I’m gone…” Cassia said.

Delia vaguely remembered hearing that, moments earlier; she was too tired to address that fact, “Well… That’s good, I suppose…”

“Delia…”

Delia looked over, “Yes?”

“Don’t steer the princess down a bad path. She’ll be the first to wake up and the others will linger a short while. I’m afraid you’ll have plenty to discuss, so I’m giving you the time.”

Delia looked between her hooves, “Yes…”

“Be careful of Dechaa. She’s on the brink and may need her friends to save her from herself.”

“I’ll try…” Delia huddled up.

Cassia went on, “Guide Zyra. Or see somepony worthy of the task does. She’s in need. She’s strong… but not without all of you.”

“Yes…”

“Be gentle with Ama. Her heart is fragile right now.”

“I promise… I’ll do all I can to help her.”

“Clovis told her things about his journey… his life… himself… that you’re not capable of imagining.”

“That doesn’t surprise me one bit,” Delia allowed herself a little smile… and a little jealousy.

“Build up Loress. She needs your support.”

“I know…” Delia suddenly realized she felt more confident; not all was lost.

“You already know more about Wilka than anypony on Earth other than a few… and I’m about to leave it. I saw a glimpse of her old life. Try to protect her. If we’re both right about her… she needs all of you.”

Delia reached in and took Cassia’s hoof, “I promise you… I can’t understand like you but… we’ll try.”

“I know…” Cassia held Delia’s hoof to her chest.

Delia felt a lot of her animosity disappearing, “…”

“Try to protect Orni.”

“I’ll try,” Delia choked.

“I may have handled things differently, knowing what your young ones had been through.”

“Don’t worry about that now…” Delia assured her.

Cassia coughed weakly, “Well, it’s all yours, now, whatever comes. Go on… Keep living… in this shitty world.”

Delia squeezed the other’s hoof, “We’ve been dealt some shitty cards, but the world isn’t all shit… We’ll get back across the desert. We’ll tell the world.”

Cassia rested her head on the floor, “I’m glad…”

Delia went on sitting next to her, ready to see her off. It was moments away.

…

Cassia knew then… she’d been beaten. She knew Delia wasn’t the monster she’d envisioned… probably. And she knew the girls had faith in Delia and that her pathetically weak attempts to turn them against her had no ground.

But she hated Delia. It was all she still had, and she’d already dedicated herself to following through… and hurting the young mare as much as was imaginable. At this point she cared about nothing else.

Nothing...

Cassia had thought about keeping quiet… letting Delia figure things out… But she would instead relish the young mare’s impending agony.

But first…

“Alcoholism’s a Helluva thing, isn’t it, Delia?” Cassia broke the moments of silence.

Delia started, legitimately off-guard to hear such a thing at a time like that, “Where did that come from…?”

“The princess suffers from it… in a way. Even I had a few problems with the creature, here and there.”

Delia’s confusion deepened; she forgot a moment that Cassia was dying, it was so strange, “Really… what are you on about?”

“Oh, I think you know… The real reason you’re afraid to touch alcohol… Such things run in the family… and you’re terrified you’d have the same demons…”

Delia felt a chill; yes… “My mother…”

Cassia smirked, “She drank from the day she turned 14 until the day she died… It’s a wonder you weren’t born retarded, if at all.”

Delia was upset to the point she felt ill, thinking of this.

“Your father really had to keep her away from it. Did he really lock her up in a sanitarium when she was carrying you?”

Delia knew that to be fact… it haunted her thoughts; she didn’t respond to the antagonism, but her dismay was clear, even to a pony without psychic powers.

“What an embarrassment… and what a shame… for her to die that way… It reduced her to skin and bones… rendered her blind before you even grasped reading.”

Delia tried to push the image out of her mind… her mother… and watching her deteriorate throughout the first years of her life.

“Oh, a daughter… who longed to read with her mother… And of course, she never quit drinking. It didn’t take long for her to die, once she’d reached that point.”

Goddamn it… Delia tried to shake away the memories conjured up.

“Your father fell apart after that. He was so mortified he couldn’t save her that he pretty much gave up on medicine. But it can be difficult when a pony puts such a thing above her own blood; he shouldn’t have blamed himself. Why your father turned to what he did… even you don’t know! Perhaps he didn’t know himself!”

“Stop…” Delia said weakly.

“It was easy to hate him… A little filly pulled onto the road… never knowing what the day would hold… what you’d have to eat, if anything… And you hate yourself for it; you feel you wasted your life hating him! How many years did you waste hating him?”

Delia sat miserably… Five… six?

“Not a whole lot to say, Delia…?”

Delia had little to say… What was there to say?

“It eats you up inside… those years, wasted. All that precious time...”

“…”

“Still, after all that you came to love your father, Delia. It wasn’t easy but you again managed it.”

Delia’s stomach was in knots.

“He became an open book with his friends of the orchard… and he never touched a drop of liquor in his life! He’d tell them anything.”

“…?”

“You went to say ‘good-night’… on your birthday… your thirteenth… You recall what you heard?”

Delia’s gaze darkened; this was enough to pull her out of her quiet, “What did you say?”

“That night, years before… just before Nuinhof…” Cassia looked at her strangely. “Those soldiers… asking to see your father’s wares at the checkpoint…?”

Delia’s sight inverted, “No… How…?”

“It’s all in your head, Delia; obviously, I saw it, once I chose to, the night you stayed with me… Don’t be so stupid… Your father… he knew he could’ve been arrested for those stolen goods… killed… So, your petty thief of a father offered the only thing he figured might’ve been of any value to them…”

Delia’s blood ran cold; few things hurt more than this recollection.

“They told him ‘no’ and took another bribe… something worth a lot less. A couple tarnished silver coins, barely enough to buy a bag of apples… That’s all your father had in his pockets. They felt that much pity for you…”

Delia felt her eyes heat up; she wanted to scream.

Cassia looked almost sorry, but the relish in her voice was clear, “It must’ve hurt… when you found out your father almost sold an eight-year-old you out for a night… even that he was willing…all those years later. Oh, to be a teenager! He became a good stallion but a stain like that is hard to wash away; it almost had you turn away from him again.”

The former maid jilted, feeling as if she’d been shocked. She was tearing up.

"Was it really that shocking, Delia...? He soon sold you to pay for his debts... and was foolish enough to condemn himself in the same place, not months later. Truly... a disgusting fellow..."

"...!" Delia shut her eyes.

“And just a year later, when you were 14, he died on you.”

Delia finally choked up, “…”

“And then, after all that, selling yourself to some noblestallion for chump-change!” Cassia choked laughter. “After being spared such a life you willingly ran to a bastardization of it.”

“…” Delia’s eyes began to run.

“You were so very stupid… jumping into that. And who saved you? Who was willing to free you, with his own life? How many times did he put his life on the line for you?”

“Please…” Delia breathed.

“Yes, that’s how much he loved you, Delia… How much he still does.”

“Goddamn it…” Delia's vision was blurred with tears.

“What a friend you weaseled your way into making! Clovis… he’s one in a million, Delia, not that you can appreciate that.”

No… Delia wanted to crawl into a hole and die.

“But somehow… even with all that's wrong in you, you love him so much you don’t even know what to do about it.”

Delia recoiled; the truth of it stung.

“It amazes me you’re capable of loving much of anything."

"..."

"You cunt of a mare… You’re not worthy of the love of your friends… And you’re not worthy of Clovis’s love… and you never will be.”

Delia sat mute, taking the abuse as she had with it all.

“He isn’t perfect but what a fellow! You, though… you have a rotten soul…”

“…”

“Oh, so many things you hide, Delia…” the old mare gave a lopsided, broken smile. “It’s my doing, true, but it disgusts me to no end that these seven young, dynamic, and dangerous mares are tied to—and that they’re to be entrusted to—the likes of you…”

“What are you saying?” Delia wavered; she sensed something more.

“They won’t wake up until tomorrow, Delia… You’re on your own… with all that dead weight…”

“But you said…!” Delia couldn’t finish.

“I lied,” Cassia gasped. “My magic will outlast me; I’ve seen to that. Let’s see what happens… What you’ll do…”

“Oh… God…” Delia’s eyes fell to the floor; she was flabbergasted.

“I did tell the truth about one thing… The princess will still wake up first…” Cassia gave a throaty cackle.

“…”

Barely audible, Cassia muttered, “Goddamn you to Hell… Goddamn you…”

Delia had to further avert her gaze; she fumbled for something to say and never found it. Fully expecting more, she managed to turn back to Cassia. Delia deserved all this, after all.

But there was nothing more to be said.

Cassia was dead.

…

Dazedly mustering, Delia finished packing their wagon. She piled on her seven friends and was grateful for Zyra’s still-intact lightening charm.

With little to no appetite Delia ate a few pieces of fruit and a biscuit.

And in the dusk, Delia dug a hole and buried Cassia. She just did it… feeling numb. Taking a moment, Delia found a nice stone, imbedding it at the head of the burial mound. She etched a brief statement upon it:

Here rests Cassia
A mare of Nuinhof
Grandmother to many

Perhaps somepony would find it… somepony that loved Cassia or knew of her… or maybe the projectiles from the sky would leave nothing around the area intact. Perhaps nopony would ever see it.

There was now a third airship bombing the jungle’s edge, a bit north of the other. It had appeared around the time Delia forced herself to take her small meal.

BOOOOOOOOOOOOM…!

Delia momentarily wondered about the stolen wagon she’d left, falling apart in the vestibule with their soiled clothing and other refuse. If anypony saw it all… they’d know the girls were probably alive. But destroying any of it was overly risky; fire or anything else would certainly attract the attention of the airships. The former maid just had to hope nopony would find the mess until the girls were far off and “safe” in the desert.

Hitching up, Delia began pulling the wagon west. The ground was a swamp, but the wagon’s charm was a good one and other than muddy hooves, she was fine.

The sun was setting… Soon it would be dark.

BOOOOOOOM…!

Delia cringed at the noise; there was bo getting used to it.

She looked back once more, seeing the smoke still rising from Nuinhof.

She had to look away. Swallowing the great lump of fear and regret obstructing her very breathing, she kept her eyes forward and broke into a trot.

Author's Note

Check out the Appendix for Princess Essenta, updated as the story moves along. It shows the story's timeline and character designs. Contains spoilers.

And that's a wrap for "The Hearts of Maidens".

With the only relief waiting in a desolate place, Delia tiredly makes her way west, with her friends in tow.

If you enjoy Princess Essenta, please take a look at Larkspur Blossom. A story of a colt finding his worth and making a better life for himself.

Also, look for The Virgin Company. A tale of a military pony and his platoon in a war centuries ago.

And if you're up for something less tasteful, check out my one-shot.

Like, follow, or leave a comment if you please. It's been fun writing and I'm glad some enjoy it.

Thanks for reading, and take care.

Chapter 58: Awakenings

Antecedence Arc

Delia hadn’t slept. Even if she wanted to it was unlikely sleep would come, despite her fatigue. Her legs and body ached but it was her heart and mind that was most in want of relief.

The overnight trip had been easy enough. None of the girls or supplies took a tumble off the wagon and Delia figured she’d gone about 30 miles since sunset, putting them just over 20 miles into the desert.

In a rock formation eerily like the one they’d just left, Delia sat on its eastern exposure, watching the sun rise over the dunes. Shivering in a blanket, she was unused to the night chill after spending so much time in a tropical clime.

Delia hadn’t stopped at the first rocky outcropping she came across. There were so many dotting the landscape she, so to say, had her pick of them. But this one had a good vantage point, seemed easy to defend—Heaven forbid the situation arose, and seemed solid. All these things seemed to be in dire need, with the others still out of it. Delia wasn’t sure when Essenta would stir… but was sure she would; she knew Cassia hadn’t been lying about that.

Enjoying the warmth of the sun as much as was possible, Delia put a wad of coca leaves in her mouth and slowly chewed. After a while she perked up some; it wasn’t much but she felt more awake. Feeling more alert did Delia’s concerns very little good.

Drooling a little from the chew, she wiped her mouth.

Yes… she lamented.

She and Essenta would have a few things to talk about once the princess woke up.

…

But it wasn’t Essenta that woke first.

Cassia, a mare of many decades, had been a worldly mare. But even she didn’t know much about Terrans. Magic affected them in ways unexpected.

In this case, Cassia should’ve given Loress a little more clout in her “naptime-spell”; it just wasn’t enough to keep her down as long as was planned.

“…Delia…?” a voice wavered from the mouth of the little cave.

Numbly, Delia turned her tired gaze, “…Loress…”

The gorgeous mare looked about as confused as she was afraid and she was plenty afraid, “…What’s… What happened?”

Momentarily, Delia ruminated on Loress being first up; she chalked it up to the reason suggested by the author.

A foul odor caught Delia’s senses; a day-and-a-half of being unconscious or near it gave the body little “choice” in holding it in and Loress had ruined a set of clothes.

Delia sighed, “Bathroom?”

Loress cringed, looking most uncomfortable and embarrassed, “Yes…”

Delia pointed, “Other side of the mound. I wish you could better wash yourself, but we can’t spare that much water; take a sand-bath. We’re horses, after all…”

Loress nodded and scrambled out of sight.

It took some effort to stand but Delia managed. She wasn’t hungry at all—so preoccupied—but couldn’t eat coca leaves. She grabbed fresh fruit and biscuits to share with Loress and drew a little water.

After a few moments, Loress joined Delia at the eastern watch-point.

“Better?” Delia asked.

Loress nodded, continuing to shake sand and dust from herself, in her little horsey birthday suit.

Delia winced, knowing it to be cold, “You can put on a fresh tunic, Loress… You can’t be warm.”

“I’m fine for now,” Loress insisted. “It’s just nice to be clean. Uh… what happened to your butt?”

Delia hadn’t thought much about it, but her rump still hurt from the burn she’d received in Nuinhof; the bandage needed changing, “Got singed… Help me re-wrap before we eat?”

Loress, appalled by the awful-looking bindings, hopped to it, “Yeah! C’mon!”

With the help of Loress, Delia was fresh and clean and slightly more comfortable.

The two of them unhurriedly nibbled on their breakfast. Loress drank with enthusiasm, having not had a proper, conscious drink in a couple days. But Loress quickly devolved to a more agitated state, her stomach no longer her driving force.

“…Delia…” Loress’s voice faltered as she finished her last bites. “I… dreamt Cassia visited me on the beach…”

Delia hugged her back legs to her chest, narrowing her gaze at the horizon. They were far enough away they could no longer make out the jungle. As clear as it was, they should have been able to make out the smoke from the city, so the fires were likely extinguished by that time.

Loress quivered, “But… something tells me it wasn’t any dream…”

Delia’s mind swam; she just wanted peace of mind… to forget all that had occurred.

Loress choked up, “…Delia… what happened…?!”

Delia’s head hurt; she exhaled, “I… don’t even know where to start…”

“…”

“What’s the last thing you remember?” Delia forced out.

“Other than waking up a couple times since I… blanked out about the time we hit the jungle… it was after we got away.”

Delia figured she’d just tell Loress, despite her wishing to wait until she could address the girls at one time.

“Well, with Cassia… that was no dream…”

And Delia relayed the last couple of days.

…

Loress huddled up, not from the morning chill but in horror; it was quite a harrowing tale.

Pulling the girls out of the jungle… moving camp… the storm… the airships… the encounter with Cassia… the desert again...

The need to wait for the others to wake before moving again...

“You saved me twice…” Loress whimpered. “You saved us all twice… Thank you…”

Delia could’ve pointed out she’d only had to save Essenta and Orni once, the two of whom had saved her after the near-suicidal escape from the jungle, but she kept her mouth shut; it wasn’t that important.

Delia also wouldn’t say “you’d do it for me”; she wasn’t sure of much of anything.

The former maid just acknowledged, “I’m just glad we’re all alive…”

Loress fidgeted; something else was bothering her, “…”

Delia felt slightly annoyed, “Seriously, if you’re cold, grab a blanket. We have plenty.”

Loress shook her head, “No… it’s not that…”

Delia wasn’t sure how important Loress’s botheration was, “Well, if you need to say something, might as well out with it…”

Loress struggled with this, “…I was… awake… and I heard you and Essenta talking yesterday."

Delia certainly noticed Loress using the princess’s given name; it always met something. She also knew to what Loress referred.

“I see,” Delia said.

The position of Essenta’s righthoof mare…

Delia stared ahead, “I didn’t ask for it.”

Loress stared at the sand between her hooves, “Neither did I… and I didn’t want it…”

Delia lay back and looked at the lightening sky, wincing as she rolled over her rump, “…”

“And I’m glad to turn it over to somepony stronger than me…” Loress cried.

Not shocked at Loress’s fresh tears, Delia looked over, “Don’t think that way… This is new territory for all of us…”

Loress began to weep bitterly over all the last few days had held, huddled up. Delia sat up, scooted over, and threw a hoof and half the blanket over Loress’s shoulders.

Hugging her friend, Delia had no more tears of her own to shed. She’d spent most of the night crying herself and wouldn’t hold it against anypony.

But Loress’s tears passed and they moved on. They had to address Cassia’s actions.

…

“As far as I know, Cassia ‘visited’ each of you, Loress,” Delia stated.

Loress recoiled at the memory, “She surely visited me… What… did she do?”

It was less a matter of “not anypony else’s business” as much as Delia didn’t know.

“All I know is Cassia… couldn’t ‘find’ Dechaa,” Delia permitted.

Loress looked over, “What…?!”

Delia was a bit taken aback, “What’s so strange about that? Dechaa’s a powerful unicorn… Maybe she was able to fight back or something…”

“You remember what we said about Noach, right?”

The psychic from Silas that helped orchestrate Zyra possibly executing a monster…?

“Of course… He connected with all of you.”

“Not all of us!” Loress almost whispered. “Not Wilka…”

Delia’s mind began to turn; she could picture that… Wilka being hesitant to having somepony else rifle through her mind. She knew a pony could fight an invasion of the mind, or try to; she'd done so herself before Cassia forced her into the bubble.

Unaware of Delia’s ruminations Loress continued, “She closed her mind to Noach… and Orni wouldn’t help him ‘crack it open’.”

Delia was nonplussed, “I have no idea what Cassia did to Wilka… but she saw something… and I can’t imagine it was good.”

Delia knew more than Loress on the matter, who only knew what she’d gleaned.

“Cassia said something?” Loress looked frightened. “What?”

Delia considered Loress’s scared eyes… Maybe Loress knew more than expected…

“…All she wanted to know was if Wilka was a regenerator… Other than what… the two of us already knew, that was all she asked…”

Loress had to know more but was visibly keeping her mouth shut on the matter, “…”

Delia hummed, “Yes… Something awful happened to Wilka when she was young… I’ve known it since the day I met her.”

“…She was a slave…” Loress gulped, deciding to force out one of her many thoughts. “Wasn’t she…?”

Delia saw no point in hiding it; it hurt to say it, “Yes…”

Loress didn’t need a hint and left it at that, “I see.”

Delia wanted very much to lie down but wasn’t interested in leaving or taking the blanket she was sharing, “Did… Cassia do anything to you?”

Loress shook her head, “We just talked, mostly… I… remember her saying something about… not harming any of us… and then saying it wasn’t all the way truthful.”

Delia squirmed, “…”

Loress was more than worried at Delia’s discomfort, “Is that what she meant…? Did she… hurt you?”

Delia’s mood darkened, “Not physically…”

“Oh?” Loress’s concerned eyes tore Delia apart.

Delia kneaded Loress’s shoulder, “I’m… fine. Well, I’m not, but I’m not hurt.”

Loress could almost feel the misery off Delia, “So… what?”

Delia inhaled and sighed heavily, “I…”

The Earth pony trailed off and stared at the sand.

Loress had a hard time putting words to it, “…I think I know what Cassia was up to.”

Delia glanced over, “Yeah?”

“She was… trying to turn us against you…”

Delia meant no sarcasm when she spoke, “Of course she was…”

Loress eked out, “Delia…?”

“That’s all it was, Loress… I realized it soon after… after she died—before I buried her. Whether it worked or not, we’ll have to wait and see… If she convinced them… Well, it’s not like it’s totally undeserved.”

Loress shied away at Delia’s dripping cynicism, “Oh, Delia…”

“She said some things… some true things. Things about me… Clovis… my father… my mother…!”

The former maid seized up at the thought of her mother; that wound was raw in her heart.

Loress hugged Delia close, letting her cry into her shoulder. Delia’s mother… she knew nothing about. But her father… she knew some of the things he did.

Delia’s face was a mask of tragedy, “I… killed them, Loress… all those ponies…! I… did…”

Loress couldn’t deny it. But she also didn’t know anything about it, having been bordering on “out-of-touch” at the time. Her idea to open the gas-lines had come in a haze. So, Loress kept mute on the matter; she was sure she’d learn plenty, later.

Delia sniffled, “The last things she said—other than damning me—were the lot of you would be helpless until today… and that I had… a rotten soul.”

Loress noted the exact sort of pain in Delia’s voice.

Rotten soul…

That was an ugly thing.

Delia snorted, her nose running, “That’s what her game was… She was willing to see all of you die…! She was willing to see you die… with only my character standing in the way of it. She gambled your lives on me running away or not…!”

Loress let Delia have it out; she doubted Delia would get much out of her speaking up, yet.

But the crying soon lessened and Loress chose to speak.

“I… know I don’t need to tell you but… you don’t have a rotten soul, Delia… A rotten soul wouldn’t have done the things you’ve done. You wouldn’t have hesitated to leave Clovis to his chosen fate and… and you wouldn’t have risked your life twice to get us to safety.”

Delia wept anew, “I know… I know you’re right… I even knew then, when she said those things. It just… hurt so very much, watching her die that way… She was suffering, Loress… in so many ways…”

Loress thought a moment; she couldn’t hold back the words, “Why do you think Cassia did all she did?”

Delia thought a moment. She didn’t hold the question against Loress: there were as many reasons as could be imagined, most likely.

But the answer seemed obvious and was deceptively simple. Delia knew Cassia wasn’t evil. The old mare was just so very wounded.

Delia slowly shook her head, “Just a broken-hearted grandmother… who’d lost just about everything she’d come to love… Her city… I took that away from her, Loress…”

“No,” Loress hoofed her shoulder. “You can’t think that way.”

“…”

“It’s not your fault.”

Delia never thought that way. It just hurt.

“…I know, Loress…”

Loress again hugged Delia, the embrace warmly returned. Then it was over. Delia pulled away.

Delia stiffly stood and began to paddle away, wiping her eyes, “We have work to do, Loress… We’ll have plenty to talk about when the others get up.”

Loress stood up, stiff herself from not moving much, and followed.

The two set to work getting their hideout more comfortable. Delia had done little more than unpack some food, blankets, and fresh clothes. She knew the girls would need all those things when they woke up.

...
...
...

Delia figured Ama would’ve been the next up, but it did turn out Essenta would beat the others. She woke up about two hours after Loress did.

“Eeeeeeeeee!” came the girlish shriek, Essenta writhing under her blanket on the floor.

Delia, keeping watch over the girls, put hooves to the princess and shushed her, pulling her into an embrace, “Shh…. Shh… You’re alright… You’re okay…”

“Delia…?” came the overcome whisper. “You’re alive…?!”

Delia sighed, giving an unwilling and unforced smirk in her relief, “Yeah… looks that way…”

Essenta wrapped hooves around Delia’s neck and sobbed unrestrainedly into her shoulder, “I- I- I- I thought for sure we were dead…!”

“Shh… Shh…” Delia patted Essenta’s back.

“Essenta!” Loress barged in. “You’re…!”

Delia made eye-contact with the Terran; she put a hoof to her lips, “Shh…”

Loress fumbled, looking around at the others, still sleeping, “…Right…”

Figuring it was best to get the bawling princess elsewhere, they hefted her outside.

Delia had to assist Essenta in ways both undesirable and unsanitary, but her leader was so overwhelmed she needed help with cleaning herself. Delia had never wished more for a nice bathtub and a lot of water. But she got Essenta to take her sand-bath.

Convincing the princess that they were all alive was a chore as well, but a little food, water, and a wad of coca leaves convinced her things were so and she calmed down a little.

Delia turned to Loress, still outside, “Could you look in on the others? I… need to talk to Essenta.”

Loress got the message and left.

It was quite a bit warmer out but Essenta still shivered; she felt chilled on top of being upset.

Delia put a blanket over the princess and advised she sip water, “Nice and easy on the canteen, Essenta… You’ve been through a lot.”

Essenta wasn’t hungry anymore and indeed convinced she wasn’t dead—the others being above ground as well—so her mind jostled about; she could only ask one thing, “Delia… How is it you and Loress are okay…?”

Delia noted the particular anguish in Essenta’s voice—it was the best word she had for it—and was reluctant to speak.

Essenta didn’t drop the subject, “How do you do it…?”

Delia had an answer; it came ragged, “We’re barely ‘doing it’, Essenta…You’ve been through a lot… I’ve been through a lot… We’ve been through a lot… But this is different… I’m… freaking out…! And Loress isn’t much better… It’s just that… you all need help… and we can’t panic—we don’t have time to do so right now—so… we need to stay focused. We need to keep it together and get clear of the south.”

Essenta jerked at the heavy statement and had to remind herself Delia had been through a lot more than some of them, recently and in the past. She gulped.

“So, if you have to… cry or scream or something, you’d best go out a few yards and do it into a blanket to keep it quiet…” Delia struggled to say. “You’re our leader… and the girls will need you to be that once they wake up. It’s not over yet…”

Sobered by the words Essenta tried to force down the lump in her throat, “I think… I’m okay now…”

Delia wasn’t sure about that but would take it at face-value for the time being, “Okay… a few things have happened since yesterday…”

Essenta had been too upset at first to relay much information to her but with her clearing mind she was able to take it in.

Delia filled her in on the last day—all that she’d missed. She elected to not tell Essenta of Cassia’s final words; she didn’t need to know, and Delia had already tried to put it behind her. What the princess needed to know was Cassia had compromised seven of them, having invaded their minds, and Delia being most unsure of what it had all entailed.

“Cassia didn’t lull me under…” Essenta said.

“Huh?” Delia wondered.

“You were trapped… unable to see and hear us… but she spoke to me face-to-face.”

Delia didn’t wish to ask, sensing Essenta’s distress, but had to, “Anything you should share?”

Essenta was hesitant, “Well, other than… she did this to… hurt you, I…!”

Delia sat stoically, her features only showing slight appreciation for this.

Essenta swallowed, “You know…?”

Delia shivered, “Yes… Loress told me and… I kind of figured it out on my own…”

“I see…” Essenta deflated.

“So, what else?” Delia asked evenly.

“…Our journey… my father… what he did… our troubles… She gave me nothing I didn’t know, except…”

Delia didn’t like Essenta’s hesitation; it didn’t bode well, “Out with it.”

“Except for a few things…” Essenta spilled. “Zyra… she’s probably fine… but I have a feeling I know next to nothing about my second-oldest friend…”

“And?” Delia encouraged.

“And… and Wilka! I don’t know what it is but something’s wrong! Something’s very wrong…”

Delia grimaced, “You’re… right about that. But it’s nothing we can do much about now… Did she say anything about Dechaa…?”

Essenta yipped a little at that; there was something.

“Princess… out with it,” Delia bade. “This is important… Did she say anything else other than what she said to the both of us when she ‘wasn’t able to find’ her?”

Essenta, on pins and needles, choked and began to weep again.

Delia wasn’t expecting this and felt more compassion than impatience, “There… there… Just try to calm down… Take a minute…”

Essenta took a moment and exhaled sharply, “Dechaa’s… about to lose it…”

Delia did a take at the unpolished statement, “‘Lose it’…? That’s what she said?”

Essenta shook her head violently, “No…! But… it’s what she meant. There are… things I don’t know about Dechaa… and I’m… I’m supposed to be her best friend! I- I- I- I-!”

Delia jostled Essenta, “Stop it… What did Cassia say? You need to tell me.”

Essenta sniffled, “That Dechaa’s angry… like really angry…”

Delia nodded, “Yes… and?”

“I’m worried, Delia… Dechaa’s magic!”

Delia sighed, “Cassia… lied about a lot of things at the end, Essenta, but she told the truth about all of you. She told me we’ll need to watch out for Dechaa.”

“She what?”

“We need to… monitor… Dechaa until we can get a bearing on her. She’s been under a lot of stress… Exhausted from our time in the jungle… being put insensible twice by the magic of that dying filly… what Cassia might’ve done to her… All that has been weighing on her. She’s had maybe six hours of her sense since we found that Goddamned barrier in the jungle. She’s unstable, Essenta… and she’s been doing an awful lot of bottling up. Not just recently either. We need to be careful…”

Essenta didn’t like this, “So… what are you saying?”

The messy-maned mare didn’t want to ride Essenta for all the years she’d supposedly been a thorn in Dechaa’s side and just how wrathful Dechaa’s heart and mind may have been. She’d seen Dechaa slipping since “Last Chance” but especially since they’d been skunked by Hagano the pirate. That had hurt Dechaa especially, even if she didn’t show it. While the rest didn’t wish Hagano harm—at least before his fucking them over—the only reason they wanted him to live was because they were afraid to face themselves otherwise. Dechaa had cared about him, as far as it went.

It wasn’t niceness; niceness could be as fake and worthless as fools’ gold. Kindness was real. Dechaa was kind… and she loved her friends. She even was kind to those the other girls felt were most undeserving of it. She gave a lot to just about everypony that crossed her path. She didn’t do these things to make up for anything or because she was trying to curry favor for herself. She did them because of her love.

But anypony, despite all the good things in them, could still be full of rage. And Dechaa had been building it since she was a filly. She'd also had some serious lapses in her overall constitution, acting in ways most rash. Dechaa had lost sight of the goodness in life, it could be surmised.

Delia didn’t hesitate otherwise in what she wished to say, “We need to restrain Dechaa.”

It took a few seconds to register; Essenta blinked, “What?!”

“You heard me…”

“B- but…! We can’t tie her up!”

Delia glared; she wouldn’t cater to Essenta’s misgivings, “We don’t have to tie her up! We still have the collar from that fuck Hagano, don’t we?”

Essenta cocked her head, “So?”

Delia knew Essenta might not get it; she had a plan and it was a doozy, “The collar! I can tweak it and use it to suppress her magic!”

Essenta’s eyes lit up in realization, “The pressure point…”

Delia was pleased enough, “Yes, Essenta… It will work. Dechaa will be free to move upon waking up but she won’t be able to do a thing with her magic… cognizant or unconscious.”

“You… really think it’s necessary?”

Delia stared back; her eyes said it all, “…”

The princess, seeing the light, huddled up and accepted it.

Delia saw the change in Essenta and was satisfied.

Essenta realized something, “You’ll need Loress for the collar… We can’t manipulate the metal.”

“And she’ll go along with it. She trusts you… and me. Do you trust me?”

Essenta did, “Yes.”

“Good. It can’t wait.”

Essenta fretted, “What about Zyra?”

“What about her?”

“Is she alright? Do we need to do the same?”

Delia said, “No… Zyra will be fine… I have faith that she will be… In fact, I'm sure she will be.”

Essenta had to agree. Zyra had been through a lot… and had come out fairly clean on the other end… Waking up wouldn't be pleasant, but it would likely be manageable.

Dechaa, though…

Delia kneaded Essenta’s shoulder, “It’s all we can do right now. We need to pull it together.”

The princess dithered, “I can’t believe this… We’re falling apart and Dechaa’s gone crazy… and-”

“She’s not crazy, Essenta; she’s overwhelmed,” Delia stated as gently as she could manage. “She’s got more than one reason to be upset when she wakes up, but she’ll get over it…! Once we’ve been able to regroup, we’ll be fine. But until that happens… until we’re closer to being safe… we need to do this.”

Essenta said with great reluctance, “You’re right…”

…

Loress was about as reluctant as Essenta had been in collaring Dechaa but she did trust the other two. So, taking no joy in doing so, the three of them fitted Hagano’s collar for their healer.

“Loress…” Delia spoke. “You’re a lot more sensitive to magic than Essenta and I… Can you feel it in Dechaa yet?”

Loress put a hoof to Dechaa and felt her out; she felt nothing and looked up, “Her magic’s halted. It’ll take my strength… or magic to adjust the collar to open up the channel again.”

That was good enough.

Essenta fell to her rump, feeling mentally drained, “Now… we just need everypony to wake up…”

…

Ama was next up. Alone when she awoke, she paddled to the makeshift kitchen, where the other three had gathered for a snack.

“Ama!” Essenta saw her first.

Given what Cassia had said both the princess and the former maid were concerned.

“Where are we?” Ama was less alarmed than might be expected but she didn’t often panic, looking around the cave.

Loress approached with a canteen of water, “We’re in the desert again… We’re… safe, I guess.”

Ama looked uncomfortable, standing there, her mind obviously preoccupied; she didn’t take the offered drink.

Delia frowned, suspecting they had another ruined tunic on their hooves, “Need to clean up?”

Ama gave a nervous snort, “No… but I need to relieve myself…”

Delia led her outside and Ama was relieved. It was hot by then, the sun at its zenith.

The two stumped back inside, Ama unsteady.

“Your balance?” Delia offered her shoulder.

Ama gratefully leaned on the offered support; she was heavy, but not overly so.

The Mazan groaned, “Thank you, Delia…”

“It’s nothing…” Delia said.

“How… long have I been unconscious?”

Delia didn’t feel like talking about much until they were able to sit but would answer this, “About 15 hours…”

“I see…” Ama uttered glumly.

Delia had a few words catching in her throat, unsure if she should share them, “…”

But Ama shook her head, as if she’d been reading Delia like a book, “It can wait a few moments… I need water.”

Delia was satisfied with that, “Okay… We don’t have anything hot, but some fruit and biscuits will be light enough on the stomach.”

“That sounds good.”

In better shape than Loress and Essenta upon awakening—other than feeling a little off-kilter from being out so long, Ama thankfully ate and drank.

Not stuffing herself, Ama ate until fulfilled, “So… What has happened?”

Ama’s tone, while even, was tired and despondent.

Delia was… curious. Not that she held it against Ama but Ama was a wreck after their escape, to the point the big mare was almost helpless. Now she seemed collected despite her sorrow, not that it would likely sustain. She surmised Ama was simply over the initial shock of their escape.

Back to their dialogue, Loress put a gentle hoof over Ama’s, “…Cassia came after us…”

Ama looked thoughtful, “So that dream… was no dream.”

Delia felt terrible, “No, Ama… Other than Essenta and I… she tried contacting all the girls… She got Essenta and I on the face-to-face.”

“‘Tried’?” Ama sucked on an orange, eyes down.

“She… said she couldn’t reach Dechaa…” Essenta said.

Ama sat back, “Is that why Dechaa is collared? Is her mind in that much turmoil…?”

The other three weren’t surprised; Ama was no fool.

Delia nodded, “That’s exactly why…”

Ama, holding up unexpectedly well until that point, hiccupped and began to weep, “The others? Are they well?”

Not taken aback at Ama’s tears, Loress leaned in, fighting her own, “We’re alive, Ama… We made it out.”

Ama clamped down on Loress’s hoof, pulling it to her shoulder, “That is not nothing…”

“Indeed,” Loress embraced the larger mare.

Sniffling, Ama managed to calm down, “You three… are you well?”

Essenta sighed, “As well as can be expected. Cassia… threw us all for a loop but we’re more or less fine.”

Delia sat down next to Ama, “Ama… did Cassia say anything to you…? Did she do anything?”

Ama shook her head, “She did not harm me… She only… spoke to me.”

Delia urged her; it was possibly important, “What did she say?”

Ama knew Delia didn’t mean to pry but she also knew some of what Cassia said wasn’t of concern to the group, “Other than… implying she was fond of me and saying she did not blame me, no… nothing of consequence.”

The three believed her, knowing Cassia had admired Ama.

Essenta patted Ama, “I’m glad to hear that…”

Ama nodded, “And I am glad you are all well… Is there anything we need to know as a group? Other than Dechaa’s circumstances?”

Delia shook her head; she could actually tell the truth on the matter, “We… will discuss what happened once everypony is up. Other than Dechaa, though… Wilka is of concern.”

Ama wasn’t surprised, “I suppose… it may finally be time to address Wilka’s hurts.”

There was no covering up the matter; the girls had been suspecting something for a time.

Loress strangled out, “Yes… it may be so…”

Ama had a stricken light in her wild eyes, “So you… know?”

Loress squeezed her eyes shut, pushing out a few tears, “I do…”

Ama turned to Delia, “And you… You have known for some time, have you not?”

Delia knew Ama meant no malice in her words, nor did they sound as such, “Since the day I met her…”

Ama didn’t bother with Essenta; she saw how nervous Essenta was and knew the Princess was still in the dark as she was.

“Well, I know that can also wait,” Ama forced out.

“It can,” Loress answered.

And that was alright with all of them.

…

It was mid-afternoon by the time Zyra came to.

The little mage stared upwards in the near-darkness, “Ama…?”

She’d only been able to tell by the silhouette, shaped by the faint lantern-light in the corner but it was her friend.

“Yes, Zyra… it is me.”

“What’s going on…?”

Ama wasn’t sure what to say, “A great deal.”

Zyra curled up in her blanket, squirming, “Oh… I’m wet…”

Ama sighed; she’d smelled it well before Zyra noticed, “…”

The unicorn looked frightened, “What happened?”

Ama looked upon her best friend, hating to see such fear in her eyes; but it could wait, “We are… safe. Leave it at that for now. Come, let us get you cleaned up.”

The other three awake were gladdened to see Zyra conscious again but gave her space. The only thing Zyra wanted—other than some clarity—was a drink of water and a clean tunic.

Zyra received a welcome portion of fresh fruit and biscuits with jam they elected to crack open. Orni had made a few jams, jellies, and preserves in the many hours she and Essenta had watched over their previous camp; soon enough Orni would be able to sample her own work, if she had the stomach for food.

Zyra poked at her chow, “I… don’t remember anything… Not since after meeting Cassia…”

Essenta regarded Ama and Loress; neither looked too eager to open up and talk. Delia hoofed Essenta’s shoulder and the look in her eyes told the other girls she’d handle it… or try.

Delia tried to ease into it but there wasn’t much to be done for it, “Zyra… It’s not going to be easy, explaining this. I want you to try… try to stay calm…”

Zyra chuckled humorlessly, closing her eyes, “Oh, my head hurts… Do I even want to know?”

Delia hated this; she knew Zyra didn’t know a thing about all that had happened, “After we left Cassia, we’d almost made it to the barrier when… that pain was felt… It messed you and Dechaa up again. Also, we found out what it was.”

The dawning realization in Zyra’s dull eyes wasn’t a nice thing to see. Ama put a hoof on her shoulder.

“I… see…” Zyra breathed. “It… was a filly?”

Delia’s stomach heaved, thinking about the little one, “Yes… it was… Her family was murdered.”

“Murdered?” Zyra’s tired countenance seemed more awake.

“It was meant to serve as an example… by the new government. We landed ourselves in the middle of a war, Zyra; that’s the long and short of it. There’s no plague… but a civil war.”

Zyra huddled up at the word “war”; it was understandable, “How did we miss this…?”

Delia couldn’t help but shrug, “We did… But a lot more led us here.”

Zyra settled in, holding her fresh blanket held tight around her shoulders. Comfortably warm in the cave, Zyra still felt chilled, as if ill.

The mage fidgeted, “And… what’s that?”

The others knew Zyra was barely remaining composed. Delia wished she was somewhere else, scrubbing a floor or something.

The former maid took a moment, “I said we learned the source of that suffering. The filly called out… for relief, for death… Once you’d clocked out, Dechaa, she… answered the call.”

Zyra’s eyes bugged, “You can’t mean she…!”

Delia nodded, “She teleported us there… all six of us. Her magic compelled her, I guess.”

“But how?! She’d never be able to do that!”

“Not consciously, maybe, but she did it, taking a few yards of earth and vegetation with us. Something tells me we’re lucky we arrived in one piece. She took us to Nuinhof, exactly where the dead family was.”

Zyra was horrified, “…”

In addition to Ama’s, Essenta’s and Loress’s hooves made their way to the mage.

Delia continued, electing to leave out the more gruesome details of the scene, “The filly—who we thought was dead—was alive. Her family was there; they’d been dead more than a week, but the filly was serving as a further example. She… died in my hooves.”

Delia choked up and had to take a moment. Zyra’s face was one of sick disbelief; she was shocked, hearing this.

Able to go on, Delia bowed her head, looking at her hooves, “The townsfolk of Nuinhof caught us there, on the edge of town. With what Cassia told me I knew we couldn’t let them take us in! Bondage… torture… death… Any one or all of them waited for us.”

The girls could see tears falling between Delia’s hooves; they weren’t much better themselves.

Delia had come to the part she’d been dreading most but knew it was time. Orni already knew enough and Dechaa and Wilka… would be dealt with later.

“I created a diversion,” Delia wept. “I said horrible things to distract them… and it worked long enough I was able to do something… I…”

Delia faltered; saying it was more difficult than she’d expected, despite having relived it several times already.

Zyra was almost frantic, “What? What happened?”

Delia stood mute.

The little unicorn looked to Loress and Ama and found nothing to help in their eyes, “…!”

Loress shivered, “I… know what happened but… I don’t know how…”

Zyra floundered, “…What?”

Delia gasped, “I used your magic…!”

Those four words were powerful ones. Essenta, Ama, and Loress recoiled despite knowing this fact.

Zyra was stock-still, “You… my magic…”

“I didn’t know what else to do!” Delia blurted, her eyes wild.

Zyra was flummoxed, “How…? What did you do?”

Delia’s face contorted, and she visibly shrank, “I did it to Dechaa first! The… nerve in your neck…”

Zyra’s face fell and she absently hoofed her own neck, “The ‘magic channel’…”

Delia nodded slowly, “Yes…”

Zyra’s jaw dropped slightly, “You stimulated the ‘magic channel’…?”

Delia picked up on a new element in Zyra’s voice, as did the others.

Ama eked out, “What is the ‘magic channel’?”

While all the girls knew about the pressure point, they’d never really discussed it.

Zyra seemed dazed, “It’s part of the nervous system… that connects magical pathways around the body. Pegasi and Earth ponies have something similar, allowing their magic to flow. You know the nerve you pinch to stop a unicorn’s magic? You can provoke it as well! It lets out-”

“An uncontrolled surge of magic…!” Ama’s voice was weak as she formulated this; she turned to Delia. “That is what you did…?”

Delia sighed, “I did…”

Zyra sat up, angry, “Do you have any idea how dangerous that is?!”

Delia surely did; she buried her face in her hooves, “I thought I knew… but I wasn’t thinking much. It was more so than I could’ve believed…”

Zyra quickly grasped she’d been overlooking the other half of the situation; she was terrified to know but had to know.

Zyra, her eyes glazing over, lost her legs and fell to her knees, slipping right through the hooves of the others, “So… what happened?”

Delia stared at the floor, “The ponies…! They were about to attack us, and I couldn’t stall them anymore… and I… aimed Dechaa’s horn at the crowd and I let loose… I knew a large burst of magic might allow us time if nothing else.”

The others, hearing it explained for the first time, could only listen in stunned silence.

Zyra quivered, “…”

Delia strangled out, “I don’t know what I was thinking other than… I guess I figured Dechaa’s magic burst would be that of her forte… what I thought it was. Or maybe I just thought about it later. But it’s not healing…! Her strength lies in concussive magic…!”

The mage felt a shock of sickness course through her and she almost retched; she'd never known, “No…”

Delia sobbed, before trailing off, “A lot of ponies died… A lot were hurt…”

Several city blocks had been devastated as well but that didn’t seem all that important at the time.

The three besides Zyra and Delia weren’t sure if the little Earth pony would be able to continue. Could Zyra stand to hear the rest? She’d been used the same way Dechaa had, perhaps.

Neither would happen at that time, regardless.

Zyra abruptly stood, wobbly on her hooves, “I… need to be alone…”

The mage paddled away briskly, yet gingerly on unsteady hooves.

While Delia didn’t move an inch Essenta was ready to stand and do something; she had to.

“No…” Loress firmly hoofed her shoulder, face pale.

A moment of quiet ensued before Ama rose.

“Ama?” Essenta wondered.

Ama put a hoof on Delia’s shoulder, not paying much attention to the others, “Collect yourself and do not worry, Delia. You are not alone in this.”

Delia quickly nodded; she’d heard and appreciated this more than most could comprehend.

Ama sighed, “It will be fine…”

The Mazan paddled the way Zyra had gone.

The princess looked about wildly, flummoxed at what to do.

Loress kept her hoof firm to the princess, “Calm down.”

“But…!” Essenta felt hopelessly lost in all this.

“It’s fine, Princess…” Loress’s eyes were on the cavern’s opening.

Ama’s tail disappeared around the corner, bound for the outside.

Loress closed her eyes, “Yes… it’ll be alright. Who better?”

Essenta saw reason and soon nodded, “Okay… Would you… keep an eye on the horizon? I’ll stay with Delia… watch the others…”

Loress agreed, “Understood. I’ll give the two of them their space.”

…

At the hottest time of the day Ama found Zyra facing west. Certainly not needing her blanket to cover up she sat upon it, protecting her rear-end from the scorching heat of the sand.

Ama recognized the 1,000-yard stare in Zyra’s gaze… but that was the case with all of them, given the last few days.

“Here,” Ama offered a canteen of lightly-salted orange-water to the mage. “This dry heat is a welcome thing but easily deceives us. We must stay hydrated.”

Zyra wordlessly magicked the canteen to herself, eyes forward.

Ama set down a blanket of her own, watching Zyra un-stopper the vessel and take a nice drink, “That is the way…”

Zyra sighed, wiping a hoof across her mouth, “Thanks, Ama.”

“You are most welcome.”

Zyra waited to speak, “Cassia… she linked with you, back at our picnic in the jungle… I know you know… so what’s going on?”

Ama’s senses flooded; there’d been a lot she’d come to know, “Delia and I… do know. But it was our agreement to exposit the details once everypony is awake and has her wits about her.”

The mage’s curiosity begged for explanation, but she could see the reasoning, “Just the important things for now, right?”

“Yes, Zyra. We did find ourselves in the midst of a civil war—many years in the making—and a situation we could not have foreseen, prepared for, or been ready to deal with.”

Zyra huddled up, “This is a nightmare…”

Ama had no reason to disagree, “I myself sometimes wonder when I will wake up, finding us blessedly retracing our steps back to the ‘City of Last Chances’…”

“But here we are…”

“Yes.”

Having next to no extrasensory perception, Ama didn’t need such a thing to read Zyra’s gloom. A few moments of quiet had the Mazan fidgeting.

“What happened…?” Zyra continued to agonize, giving voice to what Ama had been sensing for more than a few minutes.

Ama didn’t even concern herself with the fact Zyra had asked the question several times; she knew Zyra was even worse off than Dechaa regarding awareness of the situation, having not woken up before their latest move.

“Delia… saved the five of us. Had she not kept her wits about her… we would have all died in the jungle or been taken into custody.

Zyra turned to Ama; her voice was shot full of emotion, “An uncontrolled blast of concussive magic… against a crowd? Against a city?!”

Ama blew out a shaky breath, glancing at Zyra’s tear-stained eyes, “It was catastrophic…”

Zyra’s eyes pleaded… but Ama was quite unsure of that for which they were.

Ama was unnerved, saying what she did, “I… saw little of what happened to the crowd when Delia used Dechaa’s magic. She warned us… Loress and I… to protect Wilka, Orni. Their ears and eyes were in potential jeopardy, as were mine and Loress’s. The light was blinding and the noise incredible. You were alongside Dechaa, having collapsed in the jungle. It is perhaps some miracle you escaped injury, laying unprotected. Delia barely managed herself. Dechaa, though… We will learn soon enough.”

Zyra buried her face in the crooks of her front legs, “…”

Ama choked up, looking ashamed, “I… did not look, save a glance, when I realized what had happened to them… the citizens of Nuinhof. I was afraid.”

“…”

“We found a wagon after running away. It was, as you might say, a blur. I do not remember the three of us running to the wagon. I remember little after that other than following Loress… with Delia holding the three of you in the wagon and directing our flight. It was…”

Zyra sat with her insides churning as Ama trailed off. She knew there was more. After all, she’d been used magically.

“Ama… Please.”

Ama knew what this plea meant. She didn’t wish to hide what happened next from Zyra but dreaded putting it to words. She broke down crying, head falling between her knees.

Zyra and Ama had shown plenty of tears to one another in their months together and this was the first time one failed to attempt comfort of the other. Zyra was blank, unable to bring herself to do so. She only wanted one thing.

“Ama… Please…” Zyra’s own voice came feebly, her eyes heating up again.

The big mare snuffled, “Loress opened up the city’s gas-lines… Nuinhof has a system of streetlights…!”

Zyra felt an icy chill run through her.

No…

“I… do not know what she attempted first but Delia… she was unsuccessful!” Ama sobbed.

Fire… Zyra’s head went fuzzy.

“She failed her first attempt, so she stimulated your ‘magic channel’, Zyra… and set alight the city…!”

Zyra’s whole body tingled… and she felt the feeling flood through her a moment.

“I… see…” the mage breathed.

Ama gasped, “I am sorry, Zyra! I do not know what to say! I did not know how best to tell you!”

Zyra’s eyes were cast downward, “I’d… like to be alone, now…”

Ama was wary of the prospect, “Zyra…!”

But Zyra was adamant, “Please… trust me.”

“…”

Many wouldn’t trust anypony to herself but Ama, perhaps, knew Zyra’s heart better than anypony; she’d seen it several times over.

The two had become fast friends, Zyra’s understanding that the world was a terrible place at times trumping her horror of their first encounter.

The night raid had been shocking, with Zyra acting out in great violence and her subsequent breaking.

Weeks of waiting in and searching out Zyra’s mindscape had taught Ama little… until after it was over.

Ama had no idea, in her heart, what Zyra would do when confronted with the opportunity to exact vengeance upon Aodh Radulf but she chose to let it happen. She was still not positively sure of what had compelled her to do such a thing, with the distinct possibility they might’ve lost Zyra for good staring them all in the face.

And Ama wasn’t sure why she decided to honor Zyra’s wish now. It wasn’t trust or faith or anything else readily identifiable.

Zyra was just her friend.

“Very well,” Ama tried to relax. “I am leaving you the canteen. Make sure to have another drink.”

“Right… Thanks, Ama.”

“You are welcome. Come back inside when you are ready. The day is not over.”

“Gotcha.”

Ama re-entered their hideaway, leaving Zyra to her mulling.

The little mage looked out over the sands, knowing almost 700 miles separated them from what could be laughingly called safety.

And she cried.

Zyra didn’t hold what had happened against Delia; she knew death would have likely been the other option.

It wasn’t that she was ashamed of her tears.

It just hurt and she wanted a little time alone.

But she'd be okay.

After all, this wasn’t their first rodeo.

Author's Note

Check out the Appendix for Princess Essenta, updated as the story moves along. It shows the story's timeline and character designs. Contains spoilers.

The ordeal with Cassia behind them, as well as the horrors encounted in Nuinhof, the girls awaken from the nightmares and try to make sense of it all.

With Orni and their two most damaged comrades still under the sleeping-spell, a lot more will happen before they can make their journey back across the desert.

The story won't really "lighten up" but the action will begin again soon. War and its ilk sucks, after all.

If you enjoy Princess Essenta, please take a look at Larkspur Blossom. A story of a colt finding his worth and making a better life for himself.

Also, look for The Virgin Company. A tale of a military pony and his platoon in a war centuries ago.

And if you're up for something less tasteful, check out my one-shot.

Like, follow, or leave a comment if you please. It's been fun writing and I'm glad some enjoy it.

Thanks for reading, and take care.

Chapter 59: Tessa Andemax, Part One

Antecedence Arc

Eight years ago…

…

A beautiful summer day greeted the ponies of the tiny Protectorate of Tomar. Nestled on the east coast south of the Albin Empire—its ruling nation—the seasonally-minute town of Gitano bustled with visitors and activity. They were due for a good rainstorm, expected to arrive that night.

Among the throngs of ponies, a pink-coated foal under a voluminous mane of blonde could be seen weaving around underhoof.

Tessa Andemax galloped through the town market, “Mom! Mom, where are you? Dad?”

The newly nine-year-old filly bounded about, looking for her parents. That day her mother, Gunnhildr Andemax, was selling cuttings of her prize-winning Daylilies out of her cart.

For as well-known as she was, Gunnhildr kept a rather small operation. Despite this fact ponies came all the way from Albin and from all directions inland to purchase or just see the famous florist’s wares. And she delighted in keeping her stock accessible to everypony interested in flowers, selling them at a price to make her own ends meet. Many of the cultivars her own breeding efforts, she had plenty to enjoy.

Perhaps best of all was the Daylily garden she’d established in the town square to match a section popular at Albin’s Royal Garden in the capitol of Alba. It wasn’t many a small-town mare that was solicited to design and landscape the king’s newly-renovated palace. That garden was a marvel. Gitano’s was nothing to overlook either and was at its absolute zenith. Most of the visiting ponies stopped by to see the lovely grounds.

“Mom?” Tessa hopped atop a street sign, peering around. “Dad?”

Before marriage Anselme Andemax had been a proud young officer in the Albin air force. Once a Pegasus of great ability, he’d been shot down by unicorn bandits north of Albin, forcing him into humble retirement.

It was an overtold joke that Anselme and Gunnhildr were actually Earth ponies with wings sewn onto their backs; that was the greatness of their skills in horticulture. It was also a cruel joke, for neither could fly. While Anselme was a veteran Gunnhildr had been paralyzed in a building collapse. It was a tragic thing to many, the prize-winningly—quite literally—gorgeous pageant-mare cut down in her late teens, reduced to confinement in a wheelchair.

Anselme and Gunnhildr, neither having a prior interest in greenery, gravitated towards the art and science of horticulture, finding comfort in it. They also found they were really good at it. The two met while working at a greenhouse in Alba. There they became friends and there they fell in love. They would have even married there but there wasn’t room for the ceremony. The two of them, their talents recognized, wound up living on the palatial-grounds, tending the gardens as live-in wardens.

Against substantial odds and a risky pregnancy, the two had a filly. They started their own business, Gunnhildr having the mind for it, and soon moved out to the tiny town they now called home, away from the capitol. There they flourished, joyful that their daughter had such a place to grow up.

As far as Tessa went—riding high on her roost—the tiny, stunningly beautiful Pegasus wasn’t any bigger than a 6-year-old; she often had to jump or fly to see much of anything in a crowd. There was nothing wrong with her... she was just petite.

“Tess! Get down from there, you little pink terror!” a laughing voice called.

Tessa turned around on her perch and looked down; her eyes lit up, “Daddy!”

“G’morning, Tess.”

She hopped down to join her father.

He ruffled her main, “I know where your mother is. Let’s get going.”

“I gotta say, Dad, I wish it wouldn’t rain tonight…” Tessa could see the bad weather forming off the coast.

“We need the rain, Tess,” Anselme said. “And we’re getting it… I can feel it in my wings.”

“Meh…” Tessa grumbled.

“Other than that, how’re you today, squirt?” Anselme paddled through the town square, Tessa by his side.

The filly giggled at her nickname; she hated when the other foals used it but… she more than tolerated it from her father, “I’m okay, Daddy… I ate the breakfast you left for me. It was great!”

“Did you warm it up?”

Tessa lit up, “Of course! It’s so much better that way.”

“It was waiting on the table, still hot. Not as good as fresh out of the oven but I sure enjoyed it, though. Your mother makes the best cornbread.”

“What time did she get back?”

The mare had had business in Alba, dealing with the Royal Gardens.

“Well after we went to bed, Tess. We’ve been married a decade and I still don’t know how she does it. Traveling all day and into the night… taking an hour-long nap… and then bam! she’s fresh as a daisy, baking bread for us. I haven’t even seen her. She left a note, asking me to look in on our newest greenhouse… see if we had more of that new cultivar that she’s been propagating the heck out of. We may need more later.”

Tessa laughed; her mother’s industriousness was a marvel, “Of course she set out with that cart before dawn.”

“Sure, she did. But even that wasn’t enough to get her usual spot. Seems some out-of-towners set up camp there. I went looking for her and didn’t find her.”

Tessa said, “No wonder I didn’t see her back there. Was she upset?”

Anselme guffawed, “Your mother?! Nah. Actually, they said they traded some stock with her. They had the most interesting sedum. You can meet them later. We were thinking of picnicking together once the morning was over. They have a filly your age and they’re planning on staying the rest of the summer.”

Tessa perked at that, “Really? Cool…”

Tessa had friends but there weren’t that many foals living in Gitano. Most of the permanent residents were elderly or merchants or sailors. Most of her friends—especially those from wealthy families—summered with their parents in Gitano and lived inland nine months out of the year. She knew only about a half-dozen colts and fillies her age that lived their year-round, so a new friend was always welcome.

“…and here we are, Tess,” her father nudged her shoulder.

Tessa looked up; she’d been in her own mind.

“Hello, Tess,” a soothing voice sounded.

“Mom!” Tessa practically jumped, not having seen her mother in three weeks.

Anypony that saw Gunnhildr and her daughter together knew immediately where Tessa got her markedly good looks. Her handsome father contributed something, but Tessa was nearly a spitting image of her mother, pink and blonde and stunning. The only differences were Gunnhildr’s eyes were shockingly blue as opposed to Tessa’s subdued brown, and that Tessa had inherited her father’s voluminous mane rather than her mother’s straight mane. The eyes, though, were a mystery, her father’s being green.

An impressive line had formed at Gunnhildr’s stand, following an already successful morning… but the customers would have to wait a moment.

Tessa’s parents eyed each other lustfully.

Anselme gushed, “Oh, Hilde…!”

Gunnhildr grinned, “Oh, Ansel…!”

Oh, boy… Tessa lamented.

Her parents melted into one another, putting on a public display of affection that fogged up windows and mirrors for two or three city-blocks. It never ceased to stun the ponies around them and there were plenty of them to see the show put on.

Tessa often felt embarrassed, seeing her parents carry on. The two couldn’t seem to keep their hooves off each other, no matter where they happened to be. But they loved each other like nopony else did. And she had to remind herself they hadn’t seen each other in three weeks either.

The little one tried to just roll with it when it happened.

Another joke Tessa had heard besides their being Earth ponies was that she was conceived in a broom closet one of the times her parents had visited the castle to accept a commission from the emperor.

Whatever “conceived” meant… the filly didn’t know. But ponies sure laughed it up.

Tessa waited until her parents had unfolded from one another, “How was the capitol, Mom?”

Gunnhildr beamed, returning her attention to her now-blushing customers, “It was lovely as always, Tess. The weather was nice, and their gardens are at their best.”

Tessa was happy to hear that. Nice weather… something pretty to look at… was plenty to put a smile on her mother’s face.

Anselme nudged his daughter, “Could you get up into the cart?”

Tessa said, “Yes, Dad. Just tell me what you need.”

Father beamed at daughter as she fluttered up into the back of the cart.

Gunnhildr laughed, “I should’ve woken you up, Tess! I had to use the ramp to load.”

Tessa began hoofing pots of cultivars she knew to be dwindling on their table down to her father, “You could’ve… I wouldn’t have minded.”

“But you looked like a little angel sleeping,” Gunnhildr simpered. “You were adorable, all curled up, snoring.”

Tessa flushed, hearing other ponies laughing. It didn’t bother her much... Whose parents didn’t embarrass them a little?

“Ah, Mom!” Tessa chuckled. “What else do you need?”

“The imported Orange pots.”

Tessa hoofed down a few pots, taking a few seconds to appreciate them, “Wow…”

“They are lovely,” Gunnhildr glowed. “These weren’t easy to get ahold of, but do they ever propagate well!”

The Orange and many other types continued to sell like mad and before long they’d sold out of what they had.

Gunnhildr had half a mind to send her husband and daughter back home to resupply but she’d been going with very little rest, “Sorry, everypony! Sold out for the day!”

There was still a line and a few groaned. It wasn’t even lunchtime yet.

Gunnhildr yawned, “I’ll be back tomorrow. But if anypony wishes to buy today we’ll be open at the greenhouse a few hours starting at 3 p.m.”

The regulars especially understood; they knew Gunnhildr had only been home mere hours. The rest knew how busy the horticulturist was and settled on later.

The crowd left.

Anselme was concerned, looking to his wife, “Are you sure? You’re exhausted!”

She laughed, “But you’re well-rested enough.”

Anselme allowed a smile, hearing the knowing laughter from Tessa.

“You’re helping me, Tess,” he playfully leered at the filly.

“Oh, I know…” Tessa had already begun cleaning up.

“Eager to meet the new family, eh?” Gunnhildr picked up a few broken stems from the ground.

“What’s her name?” Tessa asked.

Her parents giggled; they knew Tessa meant the filly.

Anselme folded a blanket, “The father is Chioma, his wife is Retha, and their filly is Berhane.”

Tessa did a take, “What the heck kind of names are those?”

Gunnhilr chided her, “Manners, Tess… Your name’s certainly strange as well, where they’re from.”

Anselme said, “They’re from the southwest, Tess. You could say they’re from way out of town. They came on a circus caravan. Most of them are setting up camp outside of Alba but Chioma, Retha, and Berhane are planning on staying here.”

“You’ll like them,” Gunnhildr said. “They’re unicorns… a family magic act.”

Tessa wondered something; her father used their three first names, “Don’t they have a last name?”

“Not all ponies have family names, Tess,” Anselme stated.

Tessa knew what that meant… or she thought she did; her voice shook a little, “Then are they…? Their master… is the…?”

Both parents knew where the nervousness came from.

Slaves didn’t usually have family names. The little one had a difficult time regarding slavery, which was allowed to residents in the capitol but nowhere else in Albin or its territories. Tessa had been unfortunate enough the last time they went to Alba as a family—mere months earlier—to have witnessed a public flogging that resulted in the brutal death of a colt no older than her. And she’d seen the end of it.

It was a very difficult thing for her, witnessing a child no different than her, eight-years-old, enslaved and dying beneath a whip.

It was something that could not be explained away. It was an ugly thing. The authorities frowned upon it and other similar instances but there was little they could or would do.

“No, no, no, Tess…” her mother soothed. “It’s just a… cultural thing. Not all ponies have family names, that’s all.”

Tessa was upset. She just got that way when the subject came up. Her parents knew this well and didn’t hold it against her; they’d seen it too, that little foal slashed to ribbons.

It was something they’d never seen before—the severity of it, anyway—and a thing they could do without for the rest of their days.

“Want to just go home, Tess?” Anselme asked for both he and his wife.

But Tessa was a resilient filly, “No… I’m fine. I’m sorry…”

Gunnhildr knelt down as best she could, stroking Tessa’s cheek, “No, no, Tess… You have nothing to be sorry about.”

Anselme joined her, a hoof on Tessa, “That’s right, Tess. I…”

Tessa squeezed her father’s hoof; she knew her father was at a loss, “It’s okay, Dad…”

The family took a breath… and went on with cleaning.

Soon enough they were on their way to Gunnhildr’s normal spot.

Tessa was lazily listening to her parents talking as they walked along, her father pulling their wagon.

“…Emperor Albanus requested again that we relocate to the palace grounds…” Gunnhildr spoke to Anselme.

“He asks that every time we go out there,” Anselme replied.

“He does…” Gunnhildr didn’t like the idea at all. “I didn’t like living there when we were first married… and I wouldn’t like it now.”

Tessa piped up, “That little cottage? I can’t even remember that…”

“You wouldn’t,” Anselme chortled. “You could barely even talk, then.”

“The only thing I liked about living on the grounds was the ‘free room and board’…” Gunnhildr laughed. “The emperor certainly takes care of you.”

“Yeah, Gitano’s not the cheapest place to live…” Anselme bewailed.

“But we manage,” Gunnhildr sighed.

“That we do.”

“But I do miss all that disposable income,” Gunnhildr joked. “Maybe we should move back.”

“What do you think of that, Tess?!” Anselme crowed.

“What?”

“Living in Alba again?”

“Meh… I wish he’d stop being so pushy…” Tessa snorted.

“Tessa…!” the filly’s mother said sharply. “Don’t speak of the emperor in such a way…”

Tessa winced at her mother’s tone; she knew better, “Yes, Mom… I’m sorry.”

Gunnhildr exhaled, with a little smile, “It’s alright, Tess… Just remember.”

“Yes, Mom.”

Gunnhildr turned to her husband, quite serious, “And you! Don’t provoke fun at others’ expense!”

Anselme himself winced; his wife could lay it on heavy, and he put on a pout, “Yes, Gunny…”

Gunnhildr snorked; she couldn’t help it.

“Don’t you ‘Gunny’ me!” she barely contained her laughter.

Tessa giggled; she loved when her parents played around like that.

The little filly continued to hear, but not listen.

“…I’m not going to accept, Ansel, but you must understand…” Gunnhildr spoke softly to Anselme. “He loves those gardens. He has live-in chefs… physicians… wardens… a chiropractor… There’s nothing unusual about gardeners on call. It used to be our job, after all.”

“But you sound worried, Hilde.”

“He’s… changed, Ansel… The violence at his behest out west… and what came of it...! His dear wife passing… It’s wearing on him.”

"Careful, Hilde..." Anselme whispered. "If the wrong ponies heard you say that..."

"I know... But it's nothing but the truth."

Tessa knew when she was younger a small nation tied to Albin had attempted to increase territory in the northwestern corner of the continent… and it had ended terribly, she’d gathered. Albin representatives went out to broker a peace and everything.

And the passing of the empress the year before, a kind and gentle mare, had been met with national mourning. Tessa had known Empress Rowan; she’d only met the emperor… It was a sad day, indeed.

“…I have no intention of ever living there again, Ansel, but you must understand his thinking. He’s a good stallion and a good ruler… but he’s hurting.”

“I know…” Anselme nodded. “Mother Rowan was a mare among mares…”

“Mother” had been the title the empress had most enjoyed and everypony adored her and the familiar title.

“I miss her very much,” Gunnhildr blew out a breath. “The capitol’s just not the same without her… There were no public floggings then… and certainly not over a broken vase…!”

“Calm down, dear…” Anselme advised. “Don’t dwell on it.”

Tessa kept her mouth shut and listened with more interest. Despite the horror of knowing her mother was referring to that eight-year-old colt, slumping against that wagon wheel, screaming for his mother… and death… she listened.

But she’d keep her mouth shut anyway—about everything. Her parents had warned her to not repeat what she’d heard them say regarding the royal family or such business. They certainly didn’t badmouth the emperor or his entourage, but they had close ties with the ruler of Albin… and knew plenty.

Gunnhildr continued to murmur, “…residents of Alba visiting here or anywhere else can bring along their ‘servants’ when they travel… Property is property in the eyes of the continent.”

“As long as you’re a resident of a country allowing it…” Anselme hissed. “Sons of bitches…”

“Watch that talk,” Gunnhildr warned. "Tess..."

“Yes, dear…” Anselme said.

“The emperor knows how I—how we feel… He knows we saw what happened to that foal… He knows Tess saw…”

“Please, dear, not in front of Tess…” Anselme whispered.

“Right…” Gunnhildr regretted her bitter words, some. “But he still asks… Is he actually convinced we’d move back…?”

Tessa turned off her listening-ears again; she’d heard it before, and she didn’t want to think of that little colt anymore. Her parents were very anti-slavery, but it was the way of the world. The little filly certainly hated the idea of it but what did she know?

Well, she knew plenty, perhaps. It didn’t take a genius to figure out the life of some little foal—free or not—was worth a lot more than some clay pot, its worth little more than the water it carried.

She tried harder to push away her thoughts.

On the road Tessa more than recognized the scenery, living there her entire memory, and saw they were close to her mother’s favorite spot to sell.

She looked forward to meeting the new family.

…

With their mage taking a few minutes outside, Essenta, Ama, Loress, and Delia were gathered together in the east vestibule of their new refuge.

None of them were feeling very chipper.

Loress was especially loopy, having been keeping lookout in the afternoon heat; a little water set her right, though. What was bothering the Terran most regarded Wilka... and the fact a second friend of hers had been a slave. But as with many worries plaguing her and the rest she tried to push it aside.

“Do you think Zyra will be fine…?” Essenta was concerned for her old friend, knowing Ama had shared with her some very difficult things.

Ama sniffled, still a little emotional, “Yes, Essenta… I am confident she will be fine. Please let her have some time.”

That was good enough for the princess and the Terran, but one pony was less than confident.

Ama put a comforting hoof on Delia’s shoulder, “I know things appear bleak, Delia, but Zyra will be fine. It is… you for whom I am more concerned.”

Ama certainly wouldn’t say that Zyra would outright forgive the erstwhile janitor, but she was sure things would at least be okay.

Delia, her face tear-stained, choked, “I don’t know what to think anymore…”

Loress joined Ama on the other shoulder, “Try to think about what we need to do now…”

Essenta breathed in deeply and blew it out, gazing into the eyes of the former maid, “That we’ve made it this far is no miracle; it’s because you held us together and didn’t give up. Focus so we don’t lose that.”

The love was tough, but it was there. And Delia chose to believe their words.

Delia snorted deeply, clearing her airway, and wiped her face; she was ready enough, “Okay… I’ve already determined our location based on the stars, before they went away this morning.”

Going to one of their bags, Delia removed several maps, selecting one.

She unfolded the map on the ground among them; it was easy enough to see in the light of the atrium, “Look… We entered the desert on the ridge we talked about and I’ve managed to keep us on top of it; it’s actually exposed about three miles back. Some of the larger geological formations are mapped and have names but this one isn’t one of them. If I’m right and didn’t lose the rock, it would put us at this spot.”

Delia pointed a hoof at the mark on the map she’d made earlier.

“Should we be concerned about having left a trail away from the savanna?” Ama looked over the map, viewing it upside-down but able to orient.

Delia, red in the eyes from crying but more than having her mind about her, pointed at their chosen path and said, “That’s why I shadowed the rocky ridge out of there. We could follow the ridge another 50 miles but past this spot it hooks hard southward… That’s why pulling the wagon was easy, too, spell or no spell, on the rocky ground. It should be fine but there’s no guarantee considering the mud… Nothing we can do about that, really, but they’d have to fly low to see them. As far as any trail left in the desert… well, the wind deals with that.”

“Certainly,” Ama concurred; with the nearly constant wind the path out to their dedicated horse-pie grounds was untraceable moments after one of the girls relieved herself and rejoined the others... and they buried any sign of their using it as such.

Delia went on, “My other concern is leaving our refuse—our soiled clothes and that old cart and such—but unless somepony goes looking through the formation it’s unlikely they’ll find something. If they do obliterate the place and mop up, looking for what might be left of us, they will find it… But that could take days or even weeks; there’s a lot to blast through and a lot to sort through. In the event they do find our old hideout and our strong likelihood of being alive, any trail I may have left will likely be gone… and we’ll be close to ‘Last Chance’, if not happily there.”

Essenta, Loress, and Ama agreed… even on the “happily” part.

Loress sighed, her thoughts drifting, “I shudder to think of what might happen to Salvatrix now… with another escape.”

It was painful to think about. Not only had they escaped but they’d caused tremendous damage to a city and its citizens.

Essenta spoke, addressing the three, “It’s awful but we can’t worry about that. They… made their choice… and you didn’t let them have their way.”

The hurt in Essenta’s voice was easily identified. It hurt them all. But the princess was right.

Delia swallowed down her freshening sorrow; all she could envision was that firestorm she’d helped generate, “Right…”

Her friends knew Delia was far from at peace with what had happened, and they were ready to support their comrade.

Ama kneaded Delia’s shoulder, “So what next?”

Delia was grateful for the support; she again wiped her eyes and hoofed the map, “We keep an eye to the east. There’s no telling if or when they’ll send one—or more—airships over the desert.”

The girls knew no less than two were marauding about, somewhere in the east, with another possibly still grounded. And if there were three ships with three detachments of soldiers or whomever was riding along investigating or assisting with the incident, there was plenty of reason to believe there were more ships somewhere… and more soldiers, certainly.

“But it stands to reason they’re still over the jungle and savanna,” Delia figured. “Still, we need to be ready to move… and we won’t just wait for them to show up.”

Essenta did a take, noting Delia’s tone, “This again…? You can’t be serious. You’re suggesting we leave tonight?”

Ama and Loress didn’t like the idea much either.

“I’m demanding it,” Delia gave the princess an unamused scowl before turning her eyes to them all. “I’m tired… You’re a little loopy, all of you… But we’re only 20 miles away from the savanna. That isn’t far enough, and you damn well know it.”

The others had to agree. Some of them had seen the airships move. It would take more time to bake a batch of cookies than it would take for one of the dirigibles to fly from Nuinhof to where they were.

Delia’s eyes darted over the map, “It’s not ideal—at all—and we know it. I know we agreed to wait until we were all ready to hoof it, but we don’t know what’s happening out there. If the girls don’t wake up by tonight, then they don’t wake up; we put them on the wagon. I can sleep when we move. Just make sure I don’t fall off the back…”

Ama snorked a little at the statement and Essenta and Loress felt more at ease.

Delia saw the space more relaxed and almost smiled, “We can get dinner started in a little while. For now, let’s figure out the best path to follow; the map encompasses the east desert for 150 miles so it may help us find the easiest path. We try to make 50 miles tonight.”

The others nodded.

Delia had one more worry, along with the many other concerns, “My concern now is their seeing us as we move west, day or night… but we’ll be able to see them long before they see us. Those ships are big enough to see from 15 miles away… We keep our eyes open and we should be fine.”

Again, the others agreed.

Essenta said, “Sounds like a plan. We leave at last light.”

…

“Can’t catch me!” cried one filly.

Another protested, “Of course, I can’t catch you! You can fly, you little cheater!”

“Well, you have a horn!” the other conveyed.

“And don’t think I’m not willing to use it!” came a giggle. “Take this!”

ZAP!

“Hey, watch it!”

More laughter between the two could be heard.

Tessa’s and Berhane’s parents were enjoying watching their daughters play. After their pleasant lunch on the edge of town the parents contented to chat.

“Oh, Retha, you must tell me where you got that wonderful sedum,” Gunnhildr enthused.

Retha shook her head, “A long way away, I’m afraid. I’ve been tending to it and its seedlings since the southwest coast.”

Chioma and Retha had an unusual accent but the east-coasters sounded strange to a south-westerner too. It was fun.

“That far…?” Anselme said wonderingly. “I’ve never been that far away from home…”

Chioma asked, “Were you a soldier?”

Anselme squirmed. He knew some foreign ponies were wary of soldiers—especially those of Albin—and it wasn’t difficult to surmise he had been one, with his obvious injury and proximity to the capitol.

Gunnhildr put a comforting hoof on her husband.

Anselme hoofed the back of his neck, “That was… a long time ago.”

Retha raised her hooves, “Oh, no, no, no… It’s fine.”

Chioma apologized, “I’m sorry, Anselme… I didn’t mean anything by it… In fact, I was a soldier once. I resigned.”

Anselme felt a little more comfortable, “Dare I ask why? Not hard to figure out what finished my career…”

“I’d had enough of it, that’s all,” Chioma stared between his hooves. “My enlistment was almost up anyway. But work was scarce, so I fell back on something I could do.”

Gunnhildr grinned, “Magic… Oh, what I wouldn’t give for a magic touch, sometimes.”

Retha said with kindness, “I imagine it can be difficult.”

Gunnhilder was lying on her side, out of her wheelchair, “It can… and it was… scary… carrying our Tess…”

Tessa’s mother and father looked lovingly towards their daughter.

Retha closed her eyes, nodding happily, “But it’s so worth it.”

Gunnhildr shined, “Oh, it certainly is.”

“You could say that magic brought us together,” Chioma nudged his wife.

Retha bopped him, addressing the Andemax couple, “Don’t listen to him… It’s a joke he never stops telling. But, yes, magic brought us together, both figuratively and literally.”

“Hey!” Chioma griped.

“You joined the circus together?” Anselme asked, speaking over Chioma.

“I’ve been a performer my whole life,” Retha explained. “He joined when we went through his city.”

“My joke!” Chioma complained.

“What about it?” Retha glared.

“It’s not like they’ve heard it before…” Chioma whined.

“But I’ve heard it nearly daily since we got married!” Retha giggled.

Anselme and Gunnhildr guffawed at the antics of the other two. What a lovely picnic it was…

Chioma was jostling his wife, laughing; he asked Anselme, “So, what kind of magic brought you two together?”

Anselme became thoughtful, “Well… the fact we couldn’t do anymore the only things we ever knew…”

Chioma’s eyes widened, “Oh… I’m… sorry.”

Anselme shook his head, “No… I’m sorry… for being so somber.”

Gunnhildr took over, “I was a… well, I was a pageant-mare. After my accident… and after he was hurt… we each… came to love greenness. We found we were okay at it and we met, working at the same place.”

“I’d say you’re better than just okay,” Retha chuckled.

“But you get our meaning,” Anselme grinned at his wife, taking her hooves. “I suppose it was a certain magic that brought us together.”

Chioma and Retha simpered, gathering each other up as well.

But it was soon time to part.

Gunnhildr yawned, “This has been great, but I’ve slept… I think an hour since yesterday… I need a nap!”

Retha laughed, “Yeah, you look it!”

Gunnhildr sneered, “How kind of you…”

Anselme and Chioma laughed.

Retha said, “Anselme, could you call the girls in? We’ll help pick up.”

“Think I’ll just lie here…” Gunnhildr half-joked, a satisfied look on her face.

Anselme smiled, “Just a moment, dear… I’ll help you.”

The Pegasus stallion approached the girls’ fun, finding them playfully grappling, Berhane having resorted to “beaming” Tessa close enough to grab her, “Time’s up, girls. Tess, we need to get your mother home and set up shop.”

“Already?!” Tessa, much smaller than her playmate, objected.

“But I finally caught her!” Berhane snickered, her peach-colored muzzle and legs contrasting from her brown coat; she was a bicolor, with a gray mane.

“Time’s up, girls…” he stated firmly. “You can play more tomorrow.”

“Well… okay,” Tessa released her grip on her new friend and the two followed him back.

They helped Gunnhildr into her chair and went their separate ways.

When the Andemax family got home, it was past 2:00 p.m. And a line had already formed at their greenhouse.

“Oh, yeah…” Gunnhildr giggled, seeing the line stretching around the corner. “I’m good and ready for a nap.”

Father and daughter each gave a humorless laugh.

“Ha, ha…”

“Tee hee…”

But Anselme helped his wife indoors, calling to the crowd, “Give us a minute! We’ll be right back.”

The crowd was understanding.

“Take your time!”

“No worries!”

"Welcome home, Hilde!"

“Rest well, Hilde!”

“Thanks so much for doing this!”

Gunnhildr loved her ponies… she loved her town, “Thank you, everypony! And do keep your flowers covered tonight; could be one heck of a storm!”

“Tess, could you please get started?” her father asked.

“Yes, Dad!” she then trotted over to the mass of ponies and addressed them. “We said 3:00 p.m. but we’ll open up as soon as we’re ready. Give us about 10 minutes, please.”

The ponies cheered, eager to see what goodies Gunnhildr still had stashed away.

…

“Ama… since you volunteered to pull the wagon first tonight, I want you to get a couple hours of sleep,” Essenta told the Mazan over their light but much appreciated dinner.

Ama looked up from her seedcake, “Thank you, Essenta. I know I slept a great deal but…”

Essenta grumbled, “Yeah… stoned by magic doesn’t make for a great sleep, does it?”

Ama looked to Delia, “You should join me for a time. You look better than I know you to be.”

Essenta and the others had been assuring Delia all would be well, and she could rest. They knew Delia hadn’t slept for around 36 hours; it had been at dawn the day after the Nuinhof escape since she’d had a wink. She’d tended to them and pulled them away from Salvatrix’s border when they were worse than useless

Delia shook her head, “No, I’ll be fine a couple more hours. I don’t think I could even sleep until I know we’re well on our way…”

Loress kneaded her shoulder, “C’mon, Delia… You’re dead on your hooves. Take a break. We can finish packing.”

“No…” Delia glumly refused. “I’ll feel better once we’re on our way again.”

The stubborn covert custodian wasn’t always so easily swayed when she got in a mood, and her friends didn’t know what to do to help her.

Relief came from an unexpected but welcome source.

“Go to bed, Delia.”

Four sets of eyes turned to the grotto’s entrance. There stood Zyra.

Delia looked even worse if it was possible and shrank visibly before the others; she was less than ready to face the mage.

Without additional preamble Zyra paddled up to Delia.

Delia might’ve been scared but… she sensed a peace off Zyra. It was… something. Her eyes wavered, contacting Zyra’s and falling again, but she was no longer terrified.

The girls saw Zyra’s eyes well up and begin to stream. She was sad, sure, but she wasn’t angry. If anything, she looked… reassured.

Delia again was caught off-guard and flinched as Zyra came closer.

Slowly and without sudden movement, Zyra weaved in and firmly embraced Delia.

“Mmmph?” Delia’s face was smushed by Zyra’s hug.

The little mage’s voice came tear-choked, “Thank you…! Thank you… You were so brave…”

“…!” Delia was flummoxed.

The rest of the girls were taken aback, their eyes darting to one another.

Zyra sniffled, pulling back, “There’s… probably nothing I can say to change your thinking but don’t think for a moment that I could hate you… Please… rest.”

Zyra’s hooves still on her, Delia felt faint, as if a switch had gone off in her head, “But… what about…?”

Zyra firmly hoofed Delia’s shoulder, “Don’t worry about Dechaa right now. Worry about yourself… and we’ll take care of you.”

“But-!”

“Please, Delia… listen to me,” Zyra insisted.

Despite feeling she didn’t deserve it… and despite her self-hatred… Delia chose to trust Zyra and gave in.

The former floor-scrubber couldn’t help herself; she pulled in Zyra and began to sob into her shoulder.

Zyra just returned the embrace, her own eyes squeezed shut, forcing out fresh tears.

The three outside of this didn’t like seeing their friends cry… not at all… but the weeping was that of acceptance… that of forgiveness… And even if it wasn’t as such it was clear the two were ready to deal with the situation at hoof.

They all felt a powerful respite, a soothing calm permeating the hollow.

After a few moments the tears lessened; they didn’t dry but they lessened. The two broke it off.

Delia mumbled, abruptly looking as dead on her hooves as she actually was and said, “I’m gonna… go lie down for a while. Don’t hesitate to wake me once we’re ready to go.”

Ama was the only one able to form words, “We will, Delia. Relax and rest well, for we have a distance to cover.”

Delia’s response was simple, “Thank you…”

With that the little messy-maned pony paddled off to where the others were sleeping.

Zyra sat down where Delia had been; she looked a little spent.

Ama put a hoof on Zyra’s, “Will you be alright, friend?”

Zyra wasn’t alright. None of them were. None of it was alright, either, the awful mess they’d come into.

But Zyra slowly nodded, “I will be…”

Ama managed a sad smile, “Good. We shall inform you on what you missed.”

Zyra swallowed hard, trying to clear the great lump of emotion from her throat, “Okay.”

Essenta perked up, “I suppose we should check on the others, first.”

Loress immediately stood, “I’ll do it before Delia nods off… We don’t want to disturb her.”

Zyra said, “The girls are fine… I checked on them before coming in.”

Essenta was surprised, “Oh?”

Zyra had another thing on her mind, “Could somepony pass me a little of that seedcake… I’m hungry.”

Loress hoofed her a portion at once, along with a nice drink of water.

“Thanks…” Zyra took a sip before saying her piece. “Whatever Cassia did to us affected us differently. They’re fine but they’re still out like last year's fashions. They’ll wake up when they do.”

The mares just had to accept that, and they would.

“Understood,” Essenta exhaled. “We’re only about 30 miles away from the jungle and the country’s border. We need to move tonight.”

Zyra wasn’t unreasonable in asking, “Why the rush?”

Essenta realized Zyra wouldn’t know, with being unconscious much of the last few days, “The new government’s air force has airships…”

Zyra yelped, “They have dirigibles?!”

The girls shouldn’t have been surprised in hearing that; Zyra’s vocabulary wasn’t the smallest.

“You’ve heard of such things?” Essenta asked; she’d never imagined such things existed.

Zyra didn’t mean to smirk, “Master Amelbert knows a lot about everything… and he taught be a little about everything.”

Essenta figured this was true enough.

Zyra sighed, “Well, there’s no messing around then. We do need to get gone…”

…

Rumble… Rumble… CRACK!

A couple faces peered out the window of the Andemax house, facing seaward.

“Shee-yoot!” Anselme drawled, getting a little drunk. “It’s sure coming down out there!”

Chioma took a draught of gin offered by Anselme, in the same territory as the other stallion, “Sure enough…”

The “heck of a storm” had turned out to be a “cock-suckin’ Helluva storm”.

The Andemax’s new friends, Chioma and his wife and daughter, had been invited to stay the night, their wagon and supplies safely housed in the big shed out back. When it was clear the storm was going to be a big one, Anselme ran out to ask them in. The canvas tent their guests were planning to spend the summer in would suffice most nights but not this one.

And the three were very grateful.

Retha fretted a little, gawking at the downpour out a side window, “I hope everypony took the advice and sheltered their plants.”

Gunnhildr had taken a nap, not wanting to sleep too long; she could then go to bed at a normal time and was glad to spend the evening with her new friend. The two mares sat on the couch while the stallions stayed in the kitchen, watching the weather.

Gunnhildr, like Retha, was just a little sloshed, having broken out the good stuff that night, “Oh, I’m sure it’s alright… We get these big storms off the sea. We’re used to a few of these things every summer. Really, compared to the hurricanes we see every couple years this is nothing.”

While the adults made merry downstairs, Tessa and Berhane were nestled up in the loft. Tessa didn’t have much in the way of possessions, but she showed the unicorn her little corner of the house.

Under candlelight the two looked through Tessa’s coin collection.

Tessa pointed to one in particular, “This is what they use north of Albin. Isn’t it cool?”

Berhane nodded; none of the coins were particularly valuable but Tessa had some from everywhere, “It is… I recognize this one! My father has a few of these! From his home!”

Tessa said, “We get travelers from all over the continent through the city of Alba, so the junk shops have coins from all over the world! This is from Mazan… and this is… from somewhere in the mountains… it’s Knollwing currency.”

Berhane was a traveler and had been all over; she enjoyed this, being able to recognize most of what Tessa had, “Oh… I see you have some Valley money… That’s from 2,000 miles away!”

“I know…” Tessa flipped over the specified coins. “I traded these off a soldier when I was five. He’d been out there during the peace-talks with the Valley’s… confederation? I think that’s what it was called.”

Berhane looked unhappy, “I guess that explains the Joeh money…”

“Joeh?” Tessa hoofed a few coins. “That’s what these are? I don’t even know about Joeh, other than they were in on the peace-talks. The soldier just gave me these and nopony around here knew what they were…”

“Well, my dad told me about Joeh and…”

Tessa looked over, “And what?”

Berhane squirmed, “I don’t want to talk about it.”

Tessa thought nothing of it and went on, hoofing a coin, “Here’s another piece of Mazan silver! It took forever to convince this sailor to part with it.”

“Now that is cool!” Berhane enthused.

“Do you collect anything?” Tessa asked.

“Do I?! I have my own collection of coins.”

“You do?! I’ve never met another foal that liked coin-collecting!”

Berhane was a little proud of herself, “You’ve got a pretty impressive set, but you should see what I have. I have qilin gold.”

“Really?! I’ve never even seen that!”

Berhane blushed a little, “Well, it’s still not as impressive as your collection. Other than that, it’s just where we’ve traveled…”

“Could you show me?” Tessa was hopeful.

“Sure, Tess,” Berhane said. “We can look at it tomorrow.”

“Yes!”

“Girls!” Anselme’s voice came from downstairs. “Would you like some cookies?”

In unison, the fillies called down; they were already moving, “Would we ever!”

Giggling at their moms’ foolishness, the girls retreated upstairs for a snack and bedtime.

The adults were turning in soon as well. They were planning on getting up together and setting up shop side-by-side.

It had been a good day. The weather would subside by morning and another lovely summer day would be had. Both families—the Andemax family especially—had made a killing that day. And they hoped for another good day of sales.

So, the six ponies dozed off, enjoying a nice, dry house and the company of good friends.

…

“Loress, I want you to take up the rear,” Essenta pointed to the Terran. “Zyra, you and I will take point.”

The mage nodded, “You got it.”

Loress nodded, “Right.”

Ama was lashing a jug of water near the front of the wagon, wanting to keep it accessible, “Everything is packed, Essenta. We went over the grotto twice.”

Essenta peered into the wagon; Dechaa, Wilka, and Orni were snoozing comfortably or at least appeared to be. She frowned, seeing the collar they'd put on Dechaa. Her heart further ached, watching Wilka slumber, wondering what hurts that pretty face hid.

But the princess sighed and put these out of mind.

“Okay…” Essenta glanced to the map she had out before folding it. “We’re ready.”

Delia paddled up slowly, “I’m good… just had to take a leak.”

Essenta snorked, “I once said that in front of my lead hoofmaiden and she washed my mouth out with soap…”

Zyra actually cracked up, “Oh, I remember that, Cap! You had flakes stuck in your molars the whole day!”

Ama was aghast, “She washed your mouth out with soap?! To punish you?”

Essenta smirked, “What…? It never happened to you?”

Ama shook her head, “No! Naughty Mazan fillies are spanked…”

Zyra giggled, “Most ponies do that… I know I got paddled a few times…”

“You sure as shit did…” Essenta reminisced.

Zyra poked at Ama, “I bet you never got spanked, you goody-four-shoes…”

Ama blushed very slightly, “Oh… I could be quite the little... as I have heard, ‘Hellraiser’ when I was small…”

Essenta, Zyra, and Loress guffawed at the statement, picturing that.

Delia, who would’ve appreciated a spanking over the couple of floggings she’d had in her life, tired of the game; she grumbled as she clambered into the wagon, “Enough merriment… I just wanna go back to sleep…”

The girls quickly realized they’d been insensitive, given Delia’s past and the less-than-pleasant tone she gave them.

Loress looked at her hooves, her thoughts on Wilka as well, knowing what she knew, “Oh… We’re… sorry. We-”

Delia waved it off, “It’s alright… That was a long time ago. I’m alright… I’m just tired…”

The rest were put at ease.

“Gotta blanket? Water?” Loress approached the side of the wagon.

Delia was already wrapping up, “Got both… Don’t mind me. I think I could sleep through a typhoon right now…”

Ama hitched up, “I will try to give you and the girls a smooth ride.”

Delia waved this off too, “Like I said, don’t mind me. Just follow the ridge and follow the stars and we’ll get where we need to. Somepony wake me in a few hours; I don’t want to sleep the whole night.”

“Very well,” Ama said, adjusting the harness.

Essenta strode to the front of the group, “Well, let’s get moving. Everypony good?”

They weren’t good… but they were ready.

“Let’s go.”

“I am fine.”

“We’re with you, Cap!”

“Lead the way, Princess.”

Essenta beamed at her girls, “Good.”

The mares walked west into the sun, set low on the horizon, almost out of sight.

…

The rain fell on the town of Gitano. The thunder boomed and the lightning flashed.

But otherwise all was peaceful…

It didn’t last.

Wrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrr!

Tessa sat bolt upright, “What’s that?!”

Berhane had never heard such a noise, “What is that?!”

Tessa was half-asleep but quickly recognized it; it woke her up fully, “That’s the town’s alarm! Downstairs, quick!”

The fillies found their mothers awake downstairs.

“What’s going on, Hilde?” Retha wondered.

“It’s the alarm. Something’s happening,” Gunnhildr had been sleeping on the couch; she hadn’t moved, needing help to do more than crawl.

The front door opened, and the noise became almost deafening.

WRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRR!

Anselme staggered in, awash with muck. He shut the door quickly behind him, panting.

“Ansel!” Gunnhildr cried. “That’s where you were!”

Chioma rolled from the blanket he was in; he was definitely not sober, “Could somepony turn off the fucking noise?”

Nopony paid him mind.

“It can’t be the storm!” Gunnhildr yelled over the siren. “We’d know if a hurricane was due!”

The look on Anselme’s face told them one thing: it wasn’t the storm.

Tessa was fearful, pulling her blanket closer, “…Daddy?”

Chioma was pretty drunk but the ladyfolk were alarmed.

Retha asked, her voice shaking, “What is it?”

Anselme barred the door, gasping, “The town’s under attack!”

“What?!” Gunnhildr yelped.

Retha and the fillies reeled at the words and they were worse off with Anselme’s next.

“Pirates!” the stallion wheezed.

Author's Note

Check out the Appendix for Princess Essenta, updated as the story moves along. It shows the story's timeline and character designs. Contains spoilers.

In the present the girls are moving further towards relative safety, having left the jungle and Salvatrix behind them.

In the past Tessa--who will become Wilka--begins her terrible journey that would lead her to her friend, Orni.

I hate to leave things at such a cliff-hanger but it might be a while before the next chapter comes out. My research group is publishing--or hoping to--a paper and my name's on it.

If you enjoy Princess Essenta, please take a look at Larkspur Blossom. A story of a colt finding his worth and making a better life for himself.

Also, look for The Virgin Company. A tale of a military pony and his platoon in a war centuries ago.

And if you're up for something less tasteful, check out my one-shot.

Like, follow, or leave a comment if you please. It's been fun writing and I'm glad some enjoy it.

Thanks for reading, and take care.

Chapter 60: Tessa Andemax, Part Two

Antecedence Arc

…

Pirates…

The thunder rumbled outside, giving all the more power to Anselme’s terrifying statement.

“Pirates?!” Gunnhildr’s voice was a shaky whisper.

Chioma, still too drunk to know which end the shit comes out of, blinked dumbly. But his wife, Retha, surely understood, as did the young ones.

The tearful Tessa pulled her now-quivering friend, Berhane, close, “Pirates?!”

“Everypony be quiet!” Anselme checked the windows, seeing the curtains were shut and dimmed the one candle in the kitchen. “Come in here with me.”

The four able-bodied ponies went straightaway, though Retha had to lead her husband, and Anselme went back to help his wife into her chair.

She protested, “There’s no time for that! I can crawl to the kitchen…”

He thought differently, “We may need it…”

Gunnhildr was quick to note the intense mixture of fear and firmness in his eyes.

She got his message, “Okay…”

Tessa also got the message.

Run?

The idea of leaving the house terrified the tearful filly but living where they did—though nothing had happened in her town in her lifetime—coast-dwellers knew plenty about pirate attacks.

Rape. Kill. Pillage. Burn.

Pirates on the east coast were known to do all these. And not always in that order, though it made the most sense; Tessa was too young to consider such logistics.

“Shh…” Anselme advised them, helping Gunnhildr into her chair. “Kitchen… now.”

They obeyed.

Tessa blew out the remaining candles in the kitchen and huddled up next to Berhane and the six ponies sat in the dark. The loudest sound was Retha’s raspy breathing; she was good and scared alright…

They were all afraid. And they sat, waiting.

Wrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrr…!

The siren's racket continued outside. And still they waited. Chioma was too drunk to stay awake but was thankfully quiet about it, not snorking or snoring. Even Retha had quieted down.

Tessa quivered, feeling the same off Berhane; she wished to be closer to her mother but dared not move, not that it would’ve made much noise. It seemed almost silly, maintaining silence, considering the cacophony of noise outside.

But the best course was to stay put. Unless Anselme knew something he wasn’t saying they didn’t know what the pirates were after. It wasn’t a sure thing their home would be burned or rummaged through. And the burning part usually didn’t happen until the houses had been pilfered of their valuables.

Tessa was too young and frightened to think much on it but times like this had more experienced ponies wishing their town had more to offer. Not only were pirates sometimes “kinder” to towns of substance—just taking supplies and not raping the populace or burning the community—but towns of value were better protected.

Gitano had next to nothing of value unless you count the emperor’s two master-gardeners residing there. Besides being a very minor port Gitano was known for one thing: salt. The town exported salt to the inland… and there was plenty of salt “harvested” on the coast.

Gitano didn’t have even one soldier on hoof and their police force was smaller than the group of ponies crowded in the Andemax’s kitchen.

Wrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrr…rrrrrr…rrr… … …

Anselme clenched, “The siren…”

Somepony had quelled the siren. This meant the watchpony operating the siren—it was manually spun, after all—had either abandoned his post or was dead.

The wonder of the siren cutting off gave way to the other noises it uncovered.

The ponies in the kitchen could hear it coming down the street… one scream in particular was drowning out the others heard.

“Aaaaaaaahhhhhhhhhh!” came a mare’s voice.

“Come back here, bitch!” a gruff voice yelled.

Something crashed against the front door.

“Help me!” came the female voice.

Anselme sat up, his face dropping, “No…”

Tessa had seen a lot out of her father but never the dread she saw on his face in the dim moonlight and heard in his voice.

The mare outside began to pound on the door, “Help me! Captain Andemax!”

Tessa, her blood already running cold, felt it freeze.

It was Felicia, their neighbor. She was a mare, 19-years-old, whom Anselme had befriended some years ago. Her father’s influence—or his impressiveness or something else—had inspired her to join the Albin army. Anselme never encouraged ponies to join the military—he knew the cost of it—but he wholly supported those that desired to do good and those that would make soldiers.

She was home for a week after a successful bout of basic training. But she was no soldier… Not yet, anyway.

All she’d gone through hadn’t prepared her for what was going on outside, though there was little she or anypony else could’ve done.

“Hold still, filly!” the pirate’s voice depicted a struggle.

“Noooooooo!” Felicia squealed.

Schink!

Felicia’s voice was silenced in an instant.

Tessa saw her father more than wince at the death of his younger friend. A cry almost escaped his throat but Gunnhildr pulled his face into her chest. He weakly struggled against her, more than half-heartedly wishing to do something about it.

“No, dear… No…” she soothed.

With Felicia gone, more screaming could be better perceived somewhere outside.

Tessa’s mind swam and she felt a strange warmth flood through her body, replacing the cold. That was the second time she was privy to a pony dying violently.

Those watching the door didn’t miss the blackness pooling under the front door from the other side. So much blood…

Tessa saw the blood and was under no impression it was anything other than that. All she could think—as her father was silently weeping and seething into Gunnhildr’s embrace—was that she wished that whatever was outside would just go away.

But it didn’t go away. And Tessa heard a squeak from her new friend as somepony began to rifle around with the front door.

The two families—minus the sloshed Chioma—tensed.

The door and its knob shook but to no avail.

“Shit…” the pirate’s voice could be heard.

“What is it?” another apparent pirate showed up.

“Barricade.”

“Well, skip it! We’re in a hurry, here.”

“But boss! This might be important!”

“And why did you gut this gorgeous filly?! We could’ve gotten a few pounds of gold for that kind of physique!”

“I got caught up!”

“You cocksucker! You ever do this again and I’ll pull your intestines out!”

The knowledge the Andemax family shared of Felicia on their doorstep, dead and disemboweled, took a very abrupt backseat to what they knew the pirates were there for: they were slave-hunting.

The “boss” went on, “The ship’s captain is paying us a lot for each good prospect so don’t fuck up again!”

“Yes, boss!”

“Now… What’s important?”

The murdering pirate—the one that murdered Felicia, at least—sounded afraid, “We were told there was no army in town but this here filly was beating on the door and calling for somepony called ‘Captain Andemax’.”

“You idiot!” the other lowered his voice. “Get away from the door!”

A scramble of hooves clattered away but the ponies in the house could still hear. They were wise to move away; a better prepared household might’ve seen them both dead.

Now a distance away, the pirate said, “Sorry, boss… Like I said I got caught up.”

The “boss” immediately responded, “Go gather up the boys—you know which ones—and bring them here. You and you! Come here!”

As one set of hooves ran off, two more sets came over. Even with all the noise outside it was still audible. The roar of flames could be heard, mingled with the screaming. It seemed the pirates had no qualms about setting the town alight.

“Yes, boss?” a new voice asked.

“We might have a military presence here. It could just be the police chief but I’m not taking chances. You… spread the word. You, stay with me.”

Another voice—the newest—seemed to blow it off, “Even if there’s a few soldiers around there’s a hundred of us! We can deal with a few sleepy sold-”

The “boss” snapped, “Do as you’re told! I’m not losing anypony if it can be avoided. Warn the lads!”

“Yes, boss!” one of the stallions galloped away.

“And you! Go around and watch the back door. Keep your distance.”

The pirate who’d been ordered to stay only responded by running. Anselme and the others could hear him rounding the house.

“Shit…” Anselme hissed.

Tessa and Berhane were too afraid to make a peep; they knew they were surrounded.

Retha halfway supported her husband, his head hanging in his stupor; she whispered, “What do we do…?”

A few seconds of silence ensued. Then Anselme stood up.

Gunnhildr knew the look pasted to his countenance; she’d already let him go, “I… can’t imagine I’d be able to talk you out of it. After all, it’s…”

Anselme pulled her hoof to his mouth, kissing it, “It’s the only way.”

On her father's face Tessa saw another aspect of him she’d never seen; it… jarred her, “Daddy?”

Tessa watched as her father pulled in her mother, kissing her like he’d never kiss her again, “You know what to do, Hilde…”

Gunnhildr swallowed hard, her voice choked with emotion, “Yes… We may have to improvise… with Chioma the way he is... and me.”

Anselme nodded, “Yes… but I trust you… with whatever you decide to do.”

Gunnhildr only nodded, eyes shut tightly as she pressed her cheek to his shoulder.

Retha almost dropped her inebriated husband, “What’s… going on?”

Berhane felt the same confusion, seeing all this.

But Tessa had a better grasp; she felt her eyes welling up again, “Daddy?”

Father turned attention to daughter, “Tess…”

He broke off the embrace with his wife and knelt before Tessa.

Tessa felt numb. Even if she knew this was the last time she’d be seeing her father she probably wouldn’t have been able to say anything else.

“Daddy…” choked the little Pegasus. “Please don’t go.”

Tessa didn’t know what was about to happen; something in her gut told her what her mind hadn’t made sense of yet.

Anselme embraced her, “Tess… Will you listen to your mom?”

Tessa tried to stifle a sob as she forced herself to nod.

Berhane had joined her parents; she clung to them and her mother to her.

Anselme firmly hoofed Tessa, looking her in the eyes, “Tessa Andemax… Will you do whatever your mom tells you?”

Tessa had been addressed by her parents to her face only a few times with her full name; the significance wasn’t lost on her, but she wasn’t able to respond, dread clouding her everything.

Anselme jostled her, none too roughly, “Tess…! Answer me…!”

She did so, a quiet sob escaping, “I will, Dad.”

He hugged her tightly and she returned it with all she had.

“I love you, Tess,” he grimaced.

“Daddy…” she buried her face in his chest.

Anselme couldn’t raise a hoof to push her away. Gunnhildr pulled her away and Tessa only refused briefly.

“I love you, Hilde…” his face twisted painfully.

“You too…” she said, tight-faced.

Anselme turned to the other family, “Retha… please trust my wife.”

Retha unhappily acknowledged, “Yes…”

Anselme wanted to say something to Berhane but found no words; he quickly turned away, back to his wife.

“Give me one minute, Hilde…” he glanced at the back door. “That enough?”

She said, “It is.”

“Good…” he took a deep breath, fluffed his wings, and moved to the back door.

They watched as he quietly undid the barricade. Once he was done, he took another deep, calming breath.

Anselme chanced one last look to his daughter, who looked at him in a way that almost broke his conviction, “Listen to your mom…”

Before anypony could respond, Anselme mule-kicked the door with a bellow that could be heard on the beach and tore outside.

The pirate outside barely knew what hit him, “What the fu-?”

Crunch!

The pirate let out a blood-curdling cry. The ponies inside couldn’t see what had happened but that was for the best. By the time they’d registered Anselme had done something awful they could already hear him howling as he rounded the house.

They didn’t wait to hear what Anselme might do to the “boss” up front in his distraction.

Gunnhildr rolled over to the living room floor and tore back the rug.

Tessa watched in surprise as Gunnhildr pried loose a plank… and another. She’d seen the bare floor a hundred times—beating the rugs and sweeping the floor were part of her chores but she’d never imagined the house had a space below. The floor was… crooked, sure, but she figured her father just never bothered to fix the crappy-looking seams.

A tunnel…? Then why had her father left?

Gunnhildr ordered Retha, “Lower Chioma in.”

Retha did so, Berhane looking worried.

Retha began to move to enter, pushing Berhane ahead of her.

“No!” Gunnhildr’s voice halted them both.

Something was wrong.

Tessa watched, stunned as her mother unbuckled her wheelchair.

The little Pegasus felt faint, seeing her mother fall to her flank as she heaved the wheelchair into the cavity. And she herself went after.

Retha exclaimed, “What is this?!”

Berhane cowered, clinging to Retha’s leg.

“Mom!” Tessa moved to the edge; what she saw shocked her.

There was no way out down there; it was a simple hole.

Tessa hadn’t imagined she’d be leaving her mother behind… and the awful realization crept up on her.

“Mom!”

Gunnhildr held her at bay; she knew Tessa wouldn’t have let go… and she might’ve been unable to as well, “Tess…”

The sharpness in her mother’s voice was unsettling, to say the least; Tessa backed off, “Mom?”

“Get back!” Gunnhildr pulled a plank to her, ignoring her daughter’s hurt face.

Tessa jumped back, freezing.

Gunnhildr was beginning to close the hole, “We’d only slow you down.”

Berhane squeaked, realizing things herself; she was going to be leaving behind her father.

“Retha?”

The unicorn mare had herself understood what was happening; she didn’t like it but she gave into it, “Yes?”

“If the flames don't reach here, we may be okay... and with any luck, they won’t find us… But if they move the rug… you can’t be here!”

Retha nodded, mostly involuntarily.

Gunnhildr pulled another board, leaving only a thin crevice, “I told you about the garden path? Wait about 20 seconds and take the fillies and follow it until you’re in the hills. You come across anypony not running for their life, kill them—your lives depend on it.”

Retha understood, prying Berhane from her leg, “Yes.”

Tessa’s knees gave out, gawking at her mother’s stern face, “Mom…”

It was the most painful thing Gunnhildr ever felt, pushing her daughter away. It hurt worse than when they’d dug her out of that collapsed building when she was crippled… It hurt worse than learning to walk again… But she couldn’t conjure up another way to ensure her daughter a chance; pushing her away saved precious moments—even seconds—that would have been wasted in their escape.

All Gunhildr said as she pulled the last plank into place was, “Put the rug back and follow Retha.”

Tessa couldn’t move but Retha could.

The unicorn mare shifted the rug over the poorly-concealed door and jostled both fillies.

“Follow me and don’t stop!” she hissed.

Berhane obeyed at once, ready to follow her mother. Tessa froze.

Retha cuffed her on the mouth, jumpstarting her, “Tessa! Move!”

Without even thinking about it, vaguely tasting blood on her lip, Tessa became as a shadow and followed Retha.

…

Early winter in the desert didn’t make for pleasant conditions. Bracing against the cold wind, Delia had slept a while and had taken up point to lead the way the rest of the night.

The former maid pulled her scarf tighter around her ears; it was cold, “I can barely see the stars for the moon…”

Nopony else heard Delia mutter; it was for herself. The waxing moon certainly lit up their way across the desert… not that there was much to see. It was still too dark to see beyond a sand dune or two and the whipping winds weren’t helping with visibility, the hypnotizing sands threatening nausea and potentially straying their direction.

Essenta and Zyra had kept them on course just fine, Delia was glad to say; Delia called back to the girls, “Everypony good?”

Loress called from the rear, still holding it up, “All’s good back here.”

The beautiful mare sounded tired.

Essenta turned back to say, “Need to switch? Or ride for a while?”

Loress shook her head, “No… I’m fine.”

Loress had made a deal with the girls: she would stay on her hooves the whole night on the condition she didn’t have to keep watch during the day. Ama had volunteered to pull the wagon all night—the minute challenge it was—and could do the same, able to rest the whole day other than eat and keep an eye on their debilitated friends.

Essenta said to Zyra, “The girls okay?”

Zyra had taken to riding in the wagon.

The mage wasn’t overly tired but somepony needed to keep an eye on their three friends; she huddled up at the cold, “They’re fine… Snug as bugs in rugs.”

Dechaa, Wilka, and Orni were still out cold but certainly alive; they’d wake up when they did.

Zyra clapped her hooves around herself, trying to warm up her legs, “Cap?”

Essenta could hear the quavering in Zyra’s voice; she almost smiled, knowing her friend so well, “Wanna switch?”

Zyra practically jumped from the wagon, glad to be moving, “Yes!”

Ama halted, glaring at Zyra, “Do not jump when we are moving… The last thing we need is another injury!”

But Zyra was already behind Delia, “Thanks, Cap…”

Essenta paddled back and began to clamber into the wagon, “It’s fine… Third shift, after all… We would’ve switched soon.”

Delia grumbled, “If everypony’s good, let’s friggin’ move… We have a windbreak coming up.”

And that they did. The five mares awake for it got a little relief from the icy blast plaguing them.

Zyra, with little other than Delia’s ass to look at, began to daydream. She thought of better times and warmth and being carefree but leaving the windbreak behind she came right back to their current situation, her eyelids blown back by the stinging winds.

The mage’s wandering mind didn’t go unnoticed; Ama voiced concern, “Focus, friend… You were beginning to stray.”

Zyra didn’t need telling; she knew, blinking away tears of irritation, “Yeah…”

Delia’s mind was clear as a bell, topping another dune, “I see our next landmark…”

The others could see it too, right in front of them. Still on top of the rocky ridge they’d elected to follow it rose into the darkness, appearing as a miniature mountain range. They’d never seen it before, having taken a different route on the way in.

“So that’s Cloudy Top…” Zyra considered the tallest geographical formation in the desert.

“No idea why it’s called that…” Delia drawled sarcastically. “But it means we’ve already made 32 miles… Not bad time.”

This wasn’t terrible news. If they were right—and the map was reliable—their chosen destination for stopping was 10 miles ahead. They could’ve followed the ridge further but had chosen to hook north at Cloudy Top; it had a better-established route to their next stopover if the dune activity was predictable.

Delia could better see the stars, a single cloud momentarily obscuring the moon; their path was easy enough to follow, if not get them started in the correct direction, “Follow me.”

Leaving the more stable terrain behind, the mares headed north into the sea of sand.

…

Despite the more difficult terrain the company made their next destination a little after dawn. They’d been a bit hesitant to stop at an established oasis nearby, so they chose to rest in an old copper mine, centuries abandoned, within easy walking distance of the known water source.

They placed the wagon in the entrance to a shaft that appeared stable. Laying down Dechaa, Wilka, and Orni the other mares took breakfast.

Still not in the mood to disclose the entire story of the last few days—they’d agreed to lay off it until everypony was awake and stabilized—four of them listened to their eighth member as they ate.

It wasn’t the best meal conversation imaginable, explaining what had happened to Cassia.

“I don’t know if she was caught off-guard or if they overpowered her or what, but they beat her… they raped her…” Delia shivered at the thought of her short-term friend violated and broken.

Essenta grimaced at the image; she’d never properly met Cassia, the same as Orni.

Ama’s opinion of Cassia hadn’t changed much; she was aghast at what happened but could at least begin to understand, “As you say, Delia… Cassia lost all she loved in so short a time… Perhaps there was no avoiding such an outcome.”

Sure, there was… Delia thought bitterly.

Zyra patted Delia’s shoulder, “There was nothing you could’ve done to change any of this.”

Loress agreed, “We can be thankful we’re all here… together.”

Essenta found some words, having less to do with the mare herself, but with Cassia’s actions and where it had led them, “When should we start worrying about the three?”

Zyra answered as the question was meant for her, “It’s been almost two days, come this afternoon. If they’re not up in a few hours… we might have to do something about it.”

The girls were tired and as much as they cared about their three friends, still out like lights, they didn’t want to think about it much… what they’d have to do.

Not that more than a couple of them knew.

Ama asked, “What might we do?”

Zyra took a bite of dried mango, “We’ll need to rehydrate them… get some fresh fluid into them.”

Loress balked, “You can’t mean…!”

Delia shrugged, “Hey, we have the means to do it. We can’t force that much down their throats—even coaxing it along magically—as they might aspirate. We need to go straight for the bloodstream. But don’t worry yet. Wilka and Orni are beginning to show signs they’re close to waking.”

Essenta spat out a seed she’d been sucking on, “Just relax, Loress… Once we’ve eaten you can take rest. You too, Ama.”

Loress nodded.

Ama sighed, “It would be heavenly… but I am fine.”

Essenta said firmly, “Ama, you’re to rest. It’s what we agreed on. I know you’re tired.”

There was no hiding it; Ama yawned, “Guilty…”

Zyra snorked, almost inhaling a mouthful of water, at Ama’s little admission and choice of words.

Delia permitted herself a little smile, “Yes… we’re out of the elements, safe enough, and have the day. I’ll take watch if nopony else wants it.”

The girls were finished with breakfast and none disagreed; they could all do with some sleep.

Loress scratched herself in a way most uncharacteristic of her girlish manner, “Fine. I’m not keeping watch today, I guess, but I’ll fix lunch.”

“I’ll do dinner,” Zyra volunteered.

Essenta nodded, “Good. Delia keeps watch for now and everypony else rests.”

It was agreeable and they did just that.

Author's Note

Check out the Appendix for Princess Essenta, updated as the story moves along. It shows the story's timeline and character designs. Contains spoilers.

While the girls in the present continue to deal with their own problems, Wilka's have just begun in a faraway place when she had a different name.

Shorter chapter than I wanted but such is life currently. The upper plains have seen one of the wettest springs in decades and some have just finished planting. "Tessa's" story will be told over two or three more chapters.

If you enjoy Princess Essenta, please take a look at Larkspur Blossom. A story of a colt finding his worth and making a better life for himself.

Also, look for The Virgin Company. A tale of a military pony and his platoon in a war centuries ago.

And if you're up for something less tasteful, check out my one-shot.

Like, follow, or leave a comment if you please. It's been fun writing and I'm glad some enjoy it.

Thanks for reading, and take care.

Chapter 61: Tessa Andemax, Part Three

Antecedence Arc

Wilka and Orni, as they did in many things, woke up together a few minutes before lunch preparations were to start.

Wilka was too apprehensive to speak, swimming in her own juices.

Orni, not any better off, stared up into the dimness of the cave, “Wilka…?”

Zyra had woken up from her nap, close to the two young mares, “Cap! Everypony! They’re awake!”

Within seconds, Essenta, Loress, Ama, and Delia were there.

Ama wondered, “Are we whole again?”

Zyra shook her head, “It’s Orni and Wilka…”

It was better than three asleep.

“Thank goodness,” Loress exhaled.

Wilka found words, most uncomfortable in her soiled tunic, “Where are we?”

The little Pegasus was dazed, having been out of it for days.

Essenta hoofed her shoulder, “You’re safe, Wilka… We’re all safe.”

“What happened?” Orni whimpered.

Ama nuzzled her, “Relax.”

The young mares were confused but at least they weren’t dead.

Ama cradled Orni while Delia gave her a sip of water.

Essenta and Loress did the same for Wilka.

Loress eased Wilka along, holding the canteen, “Nice and easy…”

Zyra was almost overcome but managed to hold up, watching their two friends come to. She was glad to see the two were at least able to get their hooves under them after a few minutes. Soon after they were able to walk, leaning on another.

Essenta, feeling a great relief, ordered Delia, “Take Wilka and Orni to the water… Take Ama too.”

Delia and Ama stood, nodding; they knew what to do. Just moments earlier, Essenta, Zyra, Loress, and Delia had bathed in the nearby water source. After a few days of nothing but sand-baths to combat the stink and nastiness of soiling themselves in their near-comas, a proper bath was to die for. Ama hadn’t had a bath, watching over the others, so it was most welcome.

“Gladly, Essenta,” Ama gently guided Orni to her hooves.

Delia steered Wilka, “Easy does it…”

Essenta reasoned cleaning them up and letting them wake up properly first would be better than springing on them the enormity of all that had happened.

Loress agreed with the idea seeing the four leave, “It’s better this way…”

Zyra choked and let out a sob, almost collapsing.

Essenta and Loress didn’t need to ask why; Zyra had been afraid for her friends.

Essenta, having caught Zyra, hugged her, “It’ll be alright, Zyra…”

“I know, Cap…” Zyra sniffled.

It took Zyra a moment, her two friends comforting her.

Loress kneaded Zyra’s back, “Yeah… it’s okay… Wanna help me with lunch?”

Zyra was already doing dinner but wasn’t opposed to keeping busy; it kept her mind off Dechaa, “Sure…”

Essenta clapped Zyra’s back, “I’m going to get fresh clothes out for the girls. Don’t burn our chow, now, you hear?”

Zyra almost guffawed, buffeting Essenta’s shoulder, “You asshole…”

Loress giggled; they hadn’t even lit a fire to cook, as there was no wood to be found.

…

Tessa knew there was a dead stallion not far from their backdoor. She didn’t see him and had no desire to do so. She’d known her father was a soldier, but…

The three ponies—Retha, her daughter, and Tessa—pulled their cloaks tight and inched the house’s backdoor open.

Stepping outside, the rain was still falling but the worst of the storm had moved on. The town was burning impressively, and Tessa could feel the heat from quite a distance. Had it not been for the very recent downpour, soaking everything, Gitano would’ve gone up like a tinderbox.

Retha led Tessa and Berhane closer to the flame, their best bet—unless something had blocked the path—at escaping the town with their lives.

Tessa felt the uncomfortable warmth on her eyes; the heat was like that of the fireplace at home. As close as they were to the blaze the noise of the crackling flames rivaled that of the commotion in the city.

The panicked cries of the citizens mingled with the yells of the invading pirates. 100 pirates could certainly make noise. Any attempt at stealth had been long abandoned, their numbers leaving little need for secrecy when they’d already overtaken Gitano.

Retha pushed the fillies behind a stone planter.

From behind the planter, Tessa got her first image of the pirates. A couple stallions—unicorns—were chasing after an Earth pony family, firing stunning-spells. It was the Kjellfrid family, among the wealthiest of families to summer in Gitano… And Tessa saw her friend—Runa the filly—struck down, skidding to a halt. It was all she saw for Retha nudged her along before she could focus on it.

They’d reached the garden path. The stone lane was wide, dark and shadowed, and full of sculptures. A natural firebreak, the flames stopped short of it.

Tessa knew the path well. It led through one of the town’s gardens and into the hills west of town. It looked clear.

“C’mon…” Retha whispered to the little ones.

Tessa wasn’t thinking of much; she was just trying to follow. She was afraid, no doubt, but had otherwise blanked out. Any thoughts of her parents, friends, town, or what she’d left behind took a bow to the current situation.

We have to get away, we have to get away, we have to get away… and little else drove the tiny Pegasus.

The sounds of the collapsing town began to fade out as they slowly moved between features, towards the forest and a higher elevation. The vegetation thickened up as they crossed the city-limits.

Tessa almost jumped, her wings tensed to bolt, upon hearing the voices.

“We got another few…”

“Mares! Finally!”

Berhane shrieked, running under her mother. Tessa spun around, her rump bumping into Retha.

A burly Pegasus with a net and a number of other stallions—all Earth ponies—appeared from the bushes and from behind the statue of Gitano’s founder welcoming visitors into town.

One, two, three, four, five, six…! There were six of them!

Tessa let a frightened sob escape while Berhane squealed into her mother’s cloak.

One of the Earth ponies chuckled, tossing his mane, “Well, well, well… A mother and her lil’ fillies… How nice…!”

Nasty laughter wormed its way from the other five.

Retha put a hoof over Tessa’s back and pulled her in slightly; she narrowed her eyes and peered around. As she looked about, her horn came uncovered. Berhane stayed in obscurity but Tessa was seen to have wings.

The pirates were unworried; one of the Earth ponies moved in, “Hey, boys… Mommy’s a unicorn… but one of the fillies is a Pegasus.”

“Good thing we have a net,” laughed another.

Tessa and Berhane cried out, huddling all the closer to Retha.

The Pegasus stallion leered at Retha, the rest of the stallions chortling nastily, “Now… why don’t you just give up easy-like. We might even spare you the fun we’ll have with some of the other mares we find.”

The stallions were sure this mare would fold.

Retha was no soldier… but she was no pushover either and didn’t hesitate to do what she needed to keep herself and her two charges alive a while longer.

As casually as one might magically light a candle, she shot a beam of energy from her horn, blowing the Pegasus’s brains against the bust of the stallion that founded the town. She had pretty good aim, having used her magic in circus-performing of all sorts her whole life.

Never knowing what hit him the Pegasus keeled over like a rotten log.

Before the other stallions even registered what happened she got another two of them.

By this time, those with their brains still confined to their skulls realized they weren’t going to be taking this one—or her fillies—quietly.

“Shit!” one of them cried.

“Run!” howled another.

Without even retaliating they fled up the trail towards the hills.

Retha shot a few more bolts in their direction, blowing off the back leg of one of them. Ol’ “Tripod” screamed, crawling into the darkness behind his wholly intact companions.

It happened so fast the fillies only saw the aftermath… the stallion skittering away, leaving behind one of his limbs. More upsetting were the stallions with their minds blown… in every direction.

Berhane had never seen a dead body, much less the evidence of such a violent death.

The little unicorn geared up to scream, her eyes wide, “Eee-!”

Retha magically sealed her lips, “No… Shh…”

Tessa had seen a few bodies in her day, including that whipped colt—though most were at funerals for the town’s old folks. Tessa didn’t scream but seeing more death wasn’t any easier. She felt her legs turn to jelly and her mind swam.

“Tessa!” Retha whispered, jostling the Pegasus. “Move!”

Retha knew the stallions were up the trail. She also felt the path into the hills was still their best bet; one glance back towards Gitano told her turning back was suicidal. But the fiery, visibly overrun town was no worse than what they came to face.

“Get ‘em!” cried a stallion’s voice up ahead.

Zap! Zap! Zap!

Bolts of energy blasted among the three.

Retha had known there might be more stallions—and unfortunately there seemed to be at least one unicorn—up the trail but a maybe was a better bet than the definitely back in town. She meant to stick to the path and turning around wasn’t a promising option.

“Damn!” exclaimed the unicorn mare; she barked at the fillies. “Into the brush!”

Tessa didn’t hesitate and made to cut into the increasingly woody surroundings. She’d just about made-

Zap!

The little Pegasus felt a jolt and nothing else as she tumbled to the ground, unconscious.

…

The mares’ duties had been tossed up. While Essenta and Ama had taken to preparing their lunch, Zyra and Delia, With Loress’s assistance, had to deal with the final sleepyhead of their party alongside the wagon; it was the best elevated surface they had for their purpose.

Zyra searched for a good vein on Dechaa’s leg, “Piss up a rope…! For as toned as she is her veins sure suck. I can’t find a good spot to stick in.”

Even with a length of cloth tied around Dechaa’s upper leg, which would normally cause the veins to pop like cords, she was having little luck.

Delia had a makeshift line wrapped around her hooves, one end attached to a corked intravenous needle, dangling, and the other to a bag of nutritive solution Zyra had concocted; she reasoned, “Seems she’s a little more dehydrated than we thought.”

Zyra nodded, “No real surprise, there… Desert…”

“I can’t believe we’re doing this…” Loress bewailed, looking ill and holding the solution in its bag.

Wilka and Orni were also less than comfortable with this, looking on from the side. The two were shaky on their hooves but improving. They’d both received an abbreviated “de-briefing” on the last few days, which they’d naturally been unaware of. They were still confused but they had promise of a proper explanation later… and Dechaa’s plight served as quite the distraction at the moment.

In the middle with her hooves full Delia wasn’t in the mood for Loress’s squeamishness, “Just hold that bag… Zyra needs to concentrate.”

“I hate needles…” Loress squirmed.

Neither Zyra nor Delia paid the Terran any mind; they had more important things to worry about.

Dechaa was still exceptionally insensible and showed no real sign of waking up at any time in the near future. It could be said she was fine, and her vitals were sound, but she just wasn’t waking up. After a little deliberation the two mares most in the know—besides Dechaa—regarding medicine decided they needed to rehydrate Dechaa.

After a little encouragement of Dechaa’s leg, Zyra found a point; she gleamed, “Pay dirt!”

Delia exhaled, “Good.”

Magicking the corked-needle end of their contraption, Zyra popped the cork, primed the line, and went in.

“Eep…!” Loress squeaked.

Delia frowned at the Terran, “Don’t look… and don’t dare drop that bag!”

Loress held up well enough and Zyra managed to hit the vein. Wilka and Orni winced, having to look away at the last second.

Delia allowed herself a feral grin, eyeing the young ones as she situated the line, “Another few hours and we would’ve done the same to you.”

A small whine escaped Wilka’s throat and Orni looked a little green behind the gills at the notion.

The Earth pony chuckled at the further discomfort caused; she knew she could either laugh or cry about their current situation.

“It’s times like this I’m glad I have a horn,” Zyra magicked a long bandage around Dechaa’s leg, securing the insertion.

With everything else in place, Delia took the bag from Loress and asked of Zyra, “How high?”

“That hook at your eye level would be good,” Zyra pointed to a peg on the wagon’s side.

Delia hung the bag over the hook specified and sat down; she admired Zyra’s work, “Good job…”

Zyra shrugged, “It should work. We don’t have to do anything. She’s lost enough fluid she should suck it right up.”

Indeed, the bag was already beginning to slowly drain.

Essenta and Ama paddled in from outside, where they’d been preparing food.

“Did it work?” Essenta asked.

Zyra said, “It appears to be. Boy, I’m glad I was paying attention when Dechaa showed me this trick.”

Essenta was confused, “Not in the jugular?”

Zyra knew Essenta’s meaning, “For a quick dose of something, sure, but I don’t want all this going straight to her head. It’s not much, but the bit of salt and sugar should tide her over until she finally wakes up.”

Essenta felt a great relief; she’d been concerned for her best friend, “Good.”

Ama pointed a hoof outside, “We have a meal ready.”

Other than Zyra, who’d elected to stay with Dechaa and keep an eye on her progress, they filed out.

Ama turned and said, “Give me a moment and I will bring you something to eat.”

Zyra was quite hungry, now that she wasn’t so worried, “Thanks so much, Ama.”

“Of course, Zyra.”

Zyra watched as Ama and the rest exited. Magically cooling a damp rag, she applied it to Dechaa’s forehead. She was glad Essenta was feeling better; the princess had been more out of sorts than she was showing.

But Essenta, Zyra’s old Captain, had watched her best and oldest friend vegetate for a good two days, nearly a week after their nightmare had begun; it was understandable she’d be on pins and needles.

It hurt Zyra a little, knowing she wasn’t Essenta’s best best friend but there was no butting in on that. If Ama had been in the same straits as Dechaa… the little mage couldn’t imagine how she’d be feeling; it was hard to even picture the mighty Ama, struck down in such a way… but that was just naivety. They had some tough mares among them but in the end, they were all just sacks of meat and bones with maidens’ hearts.

But things could be worse—far worse—and they were possibly safely on their way back to a less hazardous place. She had to keep drilling that idea into her head. And they were tough…If one of them could reduce a dragon to pudd’nhead status on top of the other things they could do they’d likely be okay. She constantly reminded herself of that and other things.

Zyra laid back and waited for Ama to bring her something to eat.

…

Clang…

The filly registered something that seemed far away, Hmm?

Something was making noise.

Clang…!

The filly was between asleep and awake, What?

What was it?

Clang…!!

The air smelled… unfamiliar… and it was dry… and smoky.

Alarm grew in the filly, What is this?!

CLANG…!!

Tessa’s eyes shot open and she tried to jump up, “Mom?! Dad?!”

Well, she’d tried to speak; as she managed to get up something heavy choked off her speech. Blinding morning light was plainly felt through her eyelids.

Clink… Clank…

The abrupt surprise and weight of it pulled her down and she fell backwards. Lying there a few seconds she coughed, tears of exertion leaking from her closed eyes. Opening her eyes again she found it was just past dawn and a collar was around her neck… a choker.

A violent sinking feeling rose up inside Tessa; she tried to scream but nothing came out. She’d woken up to a nightmare… It took her a moment to get her wits about her as she was scared right out of them.

But calm down she did, enough at least to function, loosening the choker to the point she could breathe. Something else had happened to her… She was very sore, as if she’d been zapped by a lightning bolt; it had happened to her before when she flew too close to bad weather. It was hard to remember...

Tessa noticed activity around her and huddled down; looking around wildly she took in where she was.

She was on a sandy steppe, patched with bunched-up grasses and the occasional weed… surrounded by ponies similarly collared. Her townsfolk… about 20. They appeared to be asleep. And around them were stallions… The pirates… and their ilk, guarding them, apparently. It was easy enough to recognize they weren’t at all far from the coast; she’d picnicked with her parents near that very spot.

Her parents... Last night...

Dad… Mom…

Tessa felt a powerful feeling similar to the sinking sensation she’d had a moment earlier but now, rather, she felt like puking.

Looking around her parents were not to be seen. But there had been others the night before.

Berhane! Retha! Tessa’s awareness was rising. Where are they?!

Tessa glanced here and there, and it occurred to her Retha’s husband—Tessa’s father—had been left behind with her mother… and her father had created a distraction, running away from the house.

It was too much to process! She couldn’t even remember the name of her new friend’s father! Feeling overwhelmed she desperately yet tactfully peered about, looking for something…

…And she saw Berhane, asleep! Deciding to chance it, it seemed nopony had noticed her noisily waking up or her current activity, she moved towards her friend.

Hope, hope, hope, hope, hope, hope… Tessa prayed urgently.

“Berhane…!” Tessa hissed, creeping as close as her tether allowed, and it didn’t let her get far but she got a look at Berhane.

Berhane was just out of Tessa’s reach but the curled-up filly was still facing towards her, her mane hiding her face.

“Berhane!” Tessa stretched a little and managed to reach her friend.

The nudge Tessa gave the little unicorn resulted in Berhane’s mane being brushed back…

No… Tessa lamented.

The little Pegasus knew what a magic-canceling device was, and one was securely fixed to Berhane’s horn. Looking to the next unicorn, Tessa saw another such device.

The enlightened Tessa didn’t notice the shadow behind her.

“Well, well, well…” a gruff voice said.

Tessa yipped; it was a voice she recognized. She turned and came face-to-face with the “boss” she’d heard outside their door the night before.

He stared down at the filly, leering, “You’re the one whose mother gave us such trouble…”

Tessa knew he wasn’t talking about her mother; he was talking about Retha. Was she alive?

She must have been as he smiled nastily, “Don’t worry, little one… We’ll find her yet. We’re still cleaning up.”

Tessa had another thought occur and she shot a glance behind her. And she was faced with a pillar of black smoke, rising from what must have been Gitano. They were still next to the ocean, after all. The familiar, salty smell was dulled by the stench of smoke. She hadn’t noticed earlier but there was a pile of charred bodies, stacked near the edge of their formation. Her townsfolk… There were at least 10 of them.

Among them, unmistakably, was Runa, her rich friend from inland, burnt to a crisp, her back legs stiffly pointed up. Tessa had seen her go down, zapped, but something else must have happened after that.

Tessa screamed at the sight of this, propelling herself backwards where she tripped over a sleeping neighbor, who grunted at her, still half-asleep.

The “boss” laughed at the filly, “We’ll find her… and if she’s alive, she’ll wish she wasn’t.”

Tessa felt a numbness work its way up her body, casting her eyes on the pile again. Were her parents there?

The “boss” turned away, “I’d sleep a while if I was you… Otherwise you may never sleep again… until you’re dead.”

He left Tessa, who’d checked out from reality, still staring at the pile. She wouldn’t be sleeping another wink that morning, her mind blank save a hint of despair.

And that which the “boss” said was no empty statement. Two hours later the 20 or so ponies were roused and forced to gallop, flanked by almost 100 pirates guarding them.

Without so much as a drink of water or allowing them to properly wake up the pirates, still 90-some strong, brought out the whips. They lashed in and around and upon the huddled ponies until they were on their hooves. Cries of pain, confusion, sadness, and fear went unheeded; they were whipped until they were running. Mostly mares, they were in two lines of about 10 and forced into single file.

Tessa had no time for talking to her neighbors—ponies she’d known just about all her life… her friends… or Berhane. All she saw were their tears as they were driven along, stumbling and choking as their collars threatened to strangle them. Tessa shed plenty of her own tears, jerked between two ponies much larger than her, a chain connecting their collective necks. There was little time for thinking about Mom… or Dad… or home… Tessa had to concentrate on staying upright, lest she suffocate or be trampled.

The pirates had a desperation of their own and they did all they could to put distance between themselves and their crimes. A few whips and zaps kept the new slaves moving.

For three days and nights they ran, stopping only several hours in the day to rest and eat a thin soup slapped together from whatever grew nearby. Tessa’s purpose for being was simply to move… and about all she wanted was a drop of that soup and sleep. The little Pegasus thought of little else… not her mother or father… or home… or even her friends and neighbors. She’d never known true hunger… or thirst… or exhaustion…

The drive was nearly relentless, the slavers desperate to get out of the influence of Alba and its military. A number died on the run, mostly those unfit for such a journey; most of them survived, being relatively healthy in the first place. Those that died were simply cut from the line and discarded where they landed.

And Tessa thought of nothing but food, water, and rest.

Finally, on the fourth day, they were properly fed and rested. The chained ponies ate, drank, and slept as they never had before.

And the next day they didn’t run; they sat.

Tessa hadn’t talked with anypony in four days. And nopony seemed interested in talking—or even able—numbed from the journey. Tessa sure wasn’t in any condition to talk; it never occurred to her it was something to do.

The pirates milled nearby, mostly leaving their charges to their own devices as they ate, drank, and slept in much happier conditions.

But on the fifth day things were different. Most of the ponies had rested enough to better grasp their situation. And they mourned. Even if Tessa had the wits about her to figure out what happened nopony else seemed up to it. They just mourned. Berhane was on the other length of chain and all the little unicorn had done was vegetate in a puddle of her own making, being not inclined to do anything other than eat, drink, sleep, and void herself when nature called.

The sixth day might have seen clearer minds—able to reason what had happened, rather than just lament it—but they wouldn’t have the time. Tessa, still somewhat numb, had cried about all she could and about all she looked forward to was mealtime. But what occurred next got her attention.

They had been waiting for something, it turned out.

Their little caravan—its overseers outnumbering its “subjects” five-to-one—was visited by a much larger caravan, over 400 slaves strong with a much smaller contingency of ponies holding the reigns.

Most of the pirates left, only a hoofful remaining. But there was little need for any great number of regulators as everypony not in the know would soon learn.

Tessa hadn’t gotten a good look at their new overseers… but they looked mean… and far more proficient than the sloppy pirates had been.

But they wouldn’t be meeting their new drivers right away.

Tessa knew what slave brands looked like. She’d seen a hoof-brand only once, on the bottom of some poor filly’s hoof and was aware of its meaning. But most slaves were branded on the leg; it was easy to see with most clothing.

And here they met their “trustee”.

Tessa never learned his name. He was a grizzled old stallion stallion—a slave with his own magic-cancelling device screwed to his horn—they simply called “Trustee”. It was what he was, a prisoner whose purpose was to keep order among his fellow slaves; for this he was granted some slack, but he still had a collar.

He stood before them, “You’re with my line, you 10. See those stallions over there? Those are your masters for now. When they ask you a question or give you a command you answer with ‘sir’ and you’ll do it!”

Nopony had a thing to say to this. They only listened.

The trustee pointed to a nearby wagon, surrounded by a group of slaves; on top was a box, “See that box up there? That’s your life, what it contains. There’s a magic orb in there. It’s under every kind of lock, key, and magic you could imagine. If you keep within its influence, you live. You run outside of the orb’s barrier… you die. That’s your only warning… Stay close to your wagon… You may also hear ‘wagon’ referred to as ‘section’.”

Another trustee, apparently lower on the “chain-of-command” no trustee was actually on, moved along the line, fitting Tessa and the others with a collar just like he was wearing… that Trustee was wearing… that all the slaves were wearing.

Tessa hadn’t noticed before but looking to the 30 or so slaves assigned to their apparent wagon, she saw they were untethered. Before she was able to dwell on this—not paying much attention—she felt a jerk to the neck.

“Eep,” she uttered.

Trustee was working on her collar, “Hold still, girl…”

Clank!

The collar that had confined her, ass-to-face, with one of her neighbors was on the ground. She felt her neck, free of the weight. The new collar wasn’t comfortable, but it was light. She was also fitted with a harness, disallowing her wings to move much; she’d be powerless to fly. Unable to dwell long on this either, she heard an order given them.

“Stallions there! Mares here! Colts over there! Fillies there!”

The section driver—the stallion overseeing their wagon—had called to them.

Without even thinking about it, Tessa trotted with the other nine towards the wagon, where the other slaves were divided into the four groups by sex and age.

“Stay put,” Trustee stated.

The ponies listened but they needed little warning. In addition to their driver, their wagon had a group of stallions enforcing discipline that made the pirates look friendly. They sat. Tessa didn’t even dare approach the reeking Berhane, not more than a few feet away. Berhane was looking more than broken but was sitting up.

Tessa looked around, seeing at least 12 wagons in a line. Each wagon had a driver, several enforcers, a few trustees, and about 40 slaves.

A racket came from a neighboring section interrupted Tessa’s thinking.

It interrupted everypony’s thinking, whatever they may have been thinking about. A Pegasus stallion, just freed from his line’s collar, was struggling for all he was worth. It was another of Tessa’s neighbors, Josep. She hadn’t realized another Pegasus had been captured.

“No!” Josep bellowed.

All the trustees and two enforcers from that section were trying to wrestle a harness on him, trying to disable his wings.

But Josep was desperate and he escaped their grasp. He took off as Tessa had never seen a Pegasus take off, making a beeline towards the ocean.

“Stop him!” somepony cried. “Somepony magic his ass back down here!”

If the slavers had had a ready unicorn of theirs immediately on hoof, they’d have been able to halt Josep and would have maintained another slave.

All eyes were on the escapee, about 50 feet off the ground and about as far away.

Bang!

Tessa saw it happen, clear enough, and understood the warning they’d received from the trustee.

The collars exploded outside of the orb’s influence.

The stallion’s wings managed three or four more flaps past the body losing the head, blasted to bits.

Josep’s corpse fell back to the Earth.

Thump! went his body on the dusty ground. Blood and guts spurted out, plainly visible on impact.

Everypony was silent a moment.

Tessa’s section’s driver hollered, “Fuck! Not again…!”

One driver screamed at another, “That one was your responsibility!”

“Hey, fuck you!” cried the other. “I can’t be everywhere at once! It ain’t my job to harness them!”

The two continued to bicker and the slaves were too floored to really notice.

Trustee shook his head, barely whispering, “That fool…!”

Berhane quivered, unable to take her eyes from the bloody mess, not a short run away from the caravan’s line. Many of her other concerns—not that her mind was working all that well—took a powder; she felt numbed, devastated beyond mere inconsolability.

Tessa shook, a whimper building in her throat as she voided her bowels. The smell of her just-soiled tunic mixed with the heat—not to mention the horror she’d just witnessed—caused her to vomit. She almost fainted.

And Tessa wasn’t the only one. Some did actually faint.

Tessa was too overwhelmed to think about it and certainly didn’t recognize it until later in life, but she’d already begun to change.

Recently—and memorably, as often as it comes up—she’d seen that colt in Alba die under a whip. And she’d hated herself for not stopping it. Despite her parents’ sadness and reassuring Tessa that it was entirely out of her control—they had been young and once felt the same way—the filly couldn’t help herself.

Just prior to this she’d heard a pony she knew—that her father had been friends with—gutted on their doorstep. How Tessa felt about it… She was horrified to say the least, though it would take some time to sort out. She may have felt sorry over it, had she been able to situate her mind.

She'd even seen a few of her neighbors die on the trip thus far but hadn't given it much thought, too preoccupied.

At this moment she was horrified, sure, but Tessa didn’t feel sorry for anypony at that moment, other than possibly herself. She was just glad it wasn’t her whose head had popped. She was glad it was somepony else.

…

Author's Note

Check out the Appendix for Princess Essenta, updated as the story moves along. It shows the story's timeline and character designs. Contains spoilers.

Still waiting for Dechaa to snap out of it, Essenta and her friends keep a watchful eye to the east. And soon they will come to know the story of Wilka... the story of Tessa.

If you enjoy Princess Essenta, please take a look at Larkspur Blossom. A story of a colt finding his worth and making a better life for himself.

Also, look for The Virgin Company. A tale of a military pony and his platoon in a war centuries ago.

And if you're up for something less tasteful, check out my one-shot.

Like, follow, or leave a comment if you please. It's been fun writing and I'm glad some enjoy it.

Thanks for reading, and take care.

Appendix for Princess Essenta (Contains Spoilers) (Updated July 21, 2019)

Author's Note

Decided to keep appendix here. I tried adding it as a chapter once before and got downvoted into the toilet. Like, eight in one hour. :derpyderp2: That sucked.

But I've never liked keeping it in a blog and it's fine at the story's beginning so I snuck it in one day when I did a chapter update.

I suppose this makes it a "pre-appendix".

Appendix for Princess Essenta (Contains Spoilers) (Updated July 21, 2019)

Story Arcs

Prologue: The Continent and the Dale

The Dale: Chapters 1, 2, 3, 4

Southward to New Friends: Chapters 5, 6, 7, 8, 9

Renata: Chapters 10, 11, 12, 13, 14

Troubles: Chapters 15, 16, 17, 18, 19, 20, 21

Healing: Chapters 22, 23, 24

"Last Chance" Stopover: Chapters 25, 26, 27, 28, 29, 30, 31, 32, 33, 34, 35, 36, 37

Desolate Places: Chapters 38, 39, 40, 41, 42

Wicked World: Chapters 43, 44, 45, 46, 47, 48, 49, 50

Antecedence: Chapters 51, 52, 53, 54, 55, 56, 57, 58, 59, 60, 61, 62

Restoration Coalition: TBA

Timeline

Ancient Times:
-Ponies come to or first appear on the continent
-Centaurs immigrate from across the Western Seas
-The two species live in an almost constant state of war
-A sub-race of Earth ponies emerge after a magic in the southeastern continent becomes evident, granting them great physical strength; they become known as Terrans

Year 0:
-The event that came to be known as the Great Centauri-Equine War ends; the ponies emerge victorious
-Centaurs are either killed off or expelled from the continent
-Most knowledge before this point in time is lost

Ca. 50:
-The Terrans establish the city of Terrow

Ca. 70 to 500:
-Pegasi in the eastern mountains come across a magic unlike usual Pegasus magic; they diverge from standard Pegasi, showing enhanced physical and mental attributes and become known as Knollwings

Ca. 100 to 150:
-A number of Earth ponies emigrate across the Great Eastern Sea and establish Mazan
-It is learned the magic present in Mazan exemplifies the female sex; males cease to be born and adult males lose fertility
-Mazan mares must go across the sea in order to conceive a filly
-Mazan becomes a female-only society and culture as the remaining stallions die off

Ca. 3200:
-Several years of late frost and droughty conditions affect the entire continent
-An event that came to be known as the First Great Famine kills approximately half of the ponies on the continent

Ca. 3900:
-The Second Great Famine occurs, largely affecting the eastern continent

Ca. 4050:
-Earth ponies gain control of the land known as the Dale; the established royal family takes the name "Dale" as its own
-The land of the Dale responds to Earth pony magic in ways never before seen in history
-The Dale's capitol city of Greendale is founded

Ca. 4100:
-The Third Great Famine, affecting much of the continent, is relieved by the bounty of the Dale; some consider the production of the Dale to be divine in nature
-A protection treaty is endorsed by a number of kingdoms, to shield Earth pony hold upon the Dale

Ca. 4300:
-The Knollwing race and their lands begin to deteriorate as the source of their magic begins to fade
-Knollwings begin to spread out from their traditional lands in the east, in search of magic and new lands

4350 to 4360:
-The Fourth Great Famine, spurred by an incredible drought that pulled the land into desert, wipes out many settlements in the southern continent
-Ponies flock to the Dale and surrounding areas
-A cultural explosion in seen in the northwestern part of the continent
-Ponies begin to repopulate the northwestern coast of the continent for the first time since the beginning of the Centauri-Equine War

Ca. 4600:
-By this time, virtually all Knollwings lack the traits to separate them from standard Pegasi, other than their unique wing pattern; "true" Knollwing births are one in several-hundred
-Slave trade of Knollwings increases exponentially due to their novelty and decreased difficulty in capture; Knollwing fillies are of particularly high value

4761:
Autumn
-Loress Claystable is born in Terrow

4762:
Summer
-Ama Waterfall is born in Mazan

4763:
Spring
-Delia Elias is born
Winter (End of year)
-Dechaa Beiran is born in the Dale
-Princess Essenta Dale is born in the Dale

4764:
Winter (Beginning of year)
-Zyra Argon is born in Oswald
Winter (End of year)
-Prince Valles Dale is born in the Dale

4765:
Summer
-Tessa Andemax is born in Alba, the imperial capitol of Albin
-Orni Valkea is born in the eastern mountains

4766:
Winter (Beginning of year)
-Princess Calleha Dale is born in the Dale

4767:
Spring
-Prince Abateles Dale is born in the Dale
-Princess Essenta Dale and Dechaa Beiran begin their friendship

4768:
-The kingdom of Joeh invades, at the behest of the emperor of Albin, the eastern part of the Dale, ignoring the long-standing protection treaty
-The Confederation of the Valley is formed in response to Joeh's aggression towards the Dale
-A brief war, mostly consisting of border skirmishes, is waged; the Joeh forces are considered a nuisance more than anything, but are numerous and persistent, resulting in a stalemate
-The Andemax family relocates to Gitano in the Protectorate of Tomar

4770:
Spring
-The tide of the war turns heavily in favor of the Confederation of the Valley
Summer
-The Confederation hires the "Fire Breathers" guild to aid in ending the war
-When the kingdom of Joeh refuses to surrender, King Ansgar Dale leads the "Fire Breathers" into Joeh; they commit numerous atrocities and raze several Joeh towns bordering the Dale
-Clovis and his friends are orphaned when their town is destroyed; the foals follow Clovis south
-King Dale murders the wife and daughter of an Earth pony named Drausus as a final act of terror in Joeh
Autumn
-Joeh formally surrenders to the Confederation in Greendale; representatives from Albin attend
-King Dale is condemned for committing war crimes within western Joeh by members of the Confederation, but he pays little heed to the outcry

4771:
Spring
-Clovis and his friends arrive in "Last Chance" City and are put to work under Melchior
-The Confederation of the Valley splits up
-Tatius Argon, the keeper of the Fire Diamond and leader of the Oswald magic guild, attempts to sell his niece Zyra Argon and their family gem, the Fire Diamond, to Aodh Radulf, the leader of the "Fire Breathers"
-When Tatius is unable to deliver Zyra and the Fire Diamond, Radulf and the "Fire Breathers" kill everypony, save two, in Oswald and reduce the town to ashes
-Zyra and Tatius escape Oswald; Zyra learns of her uncle's betrayal
Summer
-Tatius dies passing the Fire Diamond to Zyra; Zyra escapes into the wilderness
-Zyra is rescued and taken in by Master Amelbert of the Greendale magic guild
-It is long believed Oswald was destroyed at the behest of somepony within the Confederation
Autumn
-Zyra befriends Princess Essenta Dale and Dechaa Beiran
-Delia Elias and her father come to "Last Chance" City; Delia is sold into servitude to Melchior to pay her father's gambling debt
Winter (End of year)
-Delia's father gambles into debt again; he himself is brought into servitude

4772:
Summer:
-A Knollwing caravan traveling near the town of Renata is attacked by slavers; Orni Valkea is injured and separated from her family, but survives
-Orni is adopted by the farmer Vess of Renata
Autumn:
-Prince Durenes Dale is born in the Dale

4774:
Summer
Gitano is set upon by slavers; Tessa Andemax is captured, along with a number of able-bodied ponies
Autumn
-Tessa is sold to Phestos of Adelardo and branded as a pleasure-slave

4776:
-Tessa Andemax develops strong regeneration magic; it is soon exploited by Phestos of Adelardo and his ilk

4777:
-Delia Elias's father dies in an accident when she is 14-years-old
-After years of humiliation and abuse, Tessa Andemax incapacitates her master and escapes; she changes her name to Wilka Starling and escapes the southeastern coast

4778:
-Upon reaching the age of 17, Loress Claystable attempts to join the Terrow Army
-Loress chooses to travel the continent after failing to become a soldier
-Wilka Starling travels west

4779:
-Wilka Starling arrives in Renata and befriends Orni Valkea

4780:
-Ama Waterfall comes of age; she receives the ceremonial blade, Dragonsquarter, and sets off on her birth journey

4781:
Late Spring
-Princess Essenta Dale meets Prince Asklepiades Fulco in the capitol, Greendale, as arranged by their fathers in hopes of a marriage
-The princess is detained a month as punishment for her drunken escapades with Prince Fulco

Early Summer
-While Princess Essenta Dale is detained, King Dale plots with his advisors and council to "scare Essenta straight"; they decide to give her a seemingly impossible task of retrieving a relic in the far south

Middle Summer
-Princess Essenta Dale is given her "task", knowing it to be farcical; she determines to attempt the mission
-Essenta escapes from Greendale with her friends Dechaa Beiran and Zyra Argon for the jungles to the far south
-Essenta's company meets Ama of the clan Waterfall in the Forbidden Forest, who joins them
-The company meets Loress Claystable guarding the Canyon Toll Bridge, who joins them and allows them crossing upon her defeat
-King Dale contacts Aodh Radulf, the leader of the "Fire Breathers", contracting him to track down Essenta and her friends; the orders are to subdue Essenta, kill the company, and bring Essenta to the Dale

Late Summer
-The "Fire Breathers" locate the company, but do not engage them as the company enters the vicinity of the town Renata
-The company meets Wilka Starling, training in the woods near Renata; she joins them after dueling each member of the company
-The company immediately after befriends Orni Valkea of Renata, who joins them after dueling Wilka and her new friends

Early Autumn
-The company, upon leaving Renata, is attacked at night by the elite members of the "Fire Breathers" guild, all of whom the company kill; Zyra Argon loses touch with reality and retreats into her own mind; Wilka Starling and Orni Valkea are poisoned
-The truth is revealed regarding the "Fire Breathers'" involvement in the destruction of Oswald
-Aodh Radulf notifies King Dale of his agents' failure and retreats from pursuit of the princess
-The company stays in the town of Silas for a month where they befriend Noach, a bartender and former healer from Joeh, as they overcome the hurts sustained in the attack
-Ama Waterfall travels with Noach in to Zyra's memories, where they learn of her past; they spend six weeks searching for Zyra's essence, while mere hours pass in the waking world
-The truth behind the destruction of Oswald is learned by Noach and Ama; Ama keeps silent per Zyra's request

Middle Autumn
-The company leaves Silas and heads south
-Noach alerts a compatriate, Sir Drausus of Albin, who hunts Aodh Radulf and the "Fire Breathers", of the activity of the company and confirms Radulf's identity
-Princess Essenta Dale encounters Drausus; he reveals his identity while she is intoxicated and she does not remember their meeting
-Drausus visits the company, treating them to a demonstration of demonic power, but does not reveal his identity
-Drausus and his group of vigilantes, knights of Albin, locate Radulf; they kill most of the "Fire Breathers" guild and pursue the rest
-The company, having traversed the steppe, crosses the southern mountain range
-The company becomes entangled with the politics of the "City of Last Chances"; they meet Clovis and Delia Elias, both in servitude to Melchior
-Drausus captures Radulf
-The Mayoral Ball occurs in "Last Chance" City; Essenta, disguised, is injured by a guest; Melchior and the mayor are killed by Drausus and his knights

Late Autumn
-Clovis and Delia Elias are freed from servitude; Delia joins Princess Essenta Dale's company
-Zyra Argon is presented with the task of killing Aodh Radulf but declines; Sir Drausus, the orchestrator, kills Radulf
-The company sets hoof in the southern desert
-The company saves the life of the Pegasus pirate Hagano; he betrays their kindness, stealing their food supply
-Having made it to the southern jungle, the company discovers a magical barrier surrounding Salvatrix; upon a magical disturbance, Dechaa Beiran and Delia teleport to the city of Nuinhof; Essenta tasks Ama Waterfall with retrieving the mares in the jungle; Delia meets Cassia and determines to reunite the company
-The company members within the jungle are reunited and leaves but a seizure from Dechaa results in teleporting the fractured company back to Nuinhof, where they discover a murdered family and ponies of the city barring their path out again; Delia manipulates Dechaa's magic, forcing a way through and killing a number of civilians; Delia then manipulates Zyra's magic, killing more civilians and allowing their escape

Early Winter
-The New Salvatrix air force appears, bombing the jungle and border in search of the company
-Cassia confronts the company; she elects to take revenge on Delia Elias for the destruction in Nuinhof, rendering the rest of the company helpless in the face of ruin; she dies afterwards from injuries sustained earlier
-Delia escapes into the desert, all of her friends and their supplies in tow
-The company awakens and they learn of Wilka Starling's past
-Princess Essenta Dale and Dechaa Beiran come of age

4782:
Middle Winter
-TBA

Characters

Princess Essenta Dale's Company

Princess Essenta Dale
Hoof-to-hoof fighter
Race: Earth pony
Current Age: 17
Favorite Drink: Ale
Likes: Alcohol; manual labor
Dislikes: Rats; mice; rodents in general
Notables: Problem drinker; first princess of the Dale

Dechaa Beiran
Healer
Race: Unicorn
Current Age: 18
Favorite Drink: Red wine
Likes: Peace and quiet
Dislikes: Horny, elderly stallions
Notables: Skilled with twin swords

Zyra Argon
Mage
Race: Unicorn
Current Age: 17
Favorite Drink: No preference
Likes: Magic tricks; teasing Loress
Dislikes: Boring stuff
Notables: Highly skilled in fire magic

Ama Waterfall
Brawler
Race: Mazan Earth pony
Current Age: 19
Favorite Drink: Anything interesting
Likes: Meeting ponies; making friends; sparring
Dislikes: Disingenuous behavior
Notables: Very tall; doesn't use contractions in speech

Loress Claystable
Hoof-to-hoof fighter
Race: Terran Earth pony
Current Age: 20
Favorite Drink: Apple cider
Likes: Cooking; being needed
Dislikes: Being teased
Notables: 14 times as strong as an average Earth pony stallion; small for her race

Wilka Starling/Tessa Andemax
Weapons specialist
Race: Pegasus
Current Age: 17
Favorite Drink: Sweet things
Likes: Cashews
Dislikes: Mean jokes
Notables: Petite; skilled martial artist; healing/regenerative magic

Orni Valkea/Orni an Geal
Weapons specialist
Race: Knollwing Pegasus
Current Age: 17
Favorite Drink: Sour things
Likes: Family
Dislikes: Things that hurt Wilka
Notables: Lost wings at a young age; skilled martial artist

Delia Elias
Insurgent
Race: Earth pony
Current Age: 18
Favorite Drink: Anything non-alcoholic
Likes: Jokes; stories
Dislikes: Ponies lacking character
Notables: Teetotaler; unruly mane

?
Brawler
Race: Pegasus
Current Age: 18
Favorite Drink: Grog (previously white wine)
Likes: Cute things; "girly" things; comfortable living
Dislikes: Ponies knowing about her love of the above; the need to live rough
Notables: ?

?
Mage/hoof-to-hoof fighter
Race: Unicorn
Current Age: 16
Favorite Drink: Chocolate milk
Likes: Older sister and younger brother
Dislikes: Older brother and youngest brother
Notables: ?

Sir Drausus's Vigilantes

Sir Drausus
Alias: Death
Skinchanger
Race: Earth Pony
Current Age: 40's
Favorite Drink: Unknown
Notables: Can change into a fire-breathing dragon; widower

?
Alias: Wind
Mage
Race: Unicorn
Current Age: 30's
Favorite Drink: Unknown
Notables: Can manipulate wind; laid-back; nasty sense of humor

?
Alias: Typhoon
Mage
Race: Unicorn
Current Age: 20's
Favorite Drink: Unknown
Notables: Can manipulate wind/water; gluttonous

?
Alias: Thunder
Mage
Race: Unicorn
Current Age: 20's
Favorite Drink: Unknown
Notables: Can manipulate acoustics; impatient

?
Alias: Lightning
Mage
Race: Unicorn
Current Age: 20's
Favorite Drink: Unknown
Notables: Can manipulate electricity; excitable

?
Alias: Frost
Mage
Race: Unicorn
Current Age: 20's
Favorite Drink: Unknown
Notables: Can manipulate ice/water; foul-tempered; irritable

Glossary

Dale, The: Country in the northwest vicinity of the continent, situated in the Eastern Central Valley (though not very east or central in big picture); known for its miraculously fertile land; a member of the Confederation of the Valley

Fulco: Country in close proximity to the Dale; longtime ally to the Dale and a member of the Confederation of the Valley

Greendale: Capitol and seat of power in the Dale

Joeh: Country east of the Eastern Central Valley that instigated a war more than a decade before the story's start; several of its western cities were destroyed near the war's end by soldiers of the Dale and mercenaries

Knollwing: Sub-race of Pegasus known to possess enhanced magic; notably stronger and more resilient than normal Pegasi

Mazan: Sub-race of Earth pony; localized magic resulted in a lack of male births; diverse due to mating with other pony races

Terran: Sub-race of Earth pony known to possess enhanced magic; remarkably stronger and more resilient than normal Earth ponies

Chapter 8: We’ve Gotten to the Bridge… Let’s Cross It

Southward to New Friends Arc

“Ama, are you crazy?!” Zyra cried. “I thought we decided to keep moving.”

Ama shook herself, loosening up, “Yes, we may have… But I will not let this opportunity pass me by.”

Essenta was at a loss. Maybe Ama would listen to her… Maybe she wouldn’t. Was she afraid to stop Ama, if she developed the mind to try and stop her? A little. But she didn’t want to stop Ama. She didn’t want to see her get creamed either, but…

“Ama. Do as you wish. As you say… I’m not your princess.”

“If you wish for me to stop, then say so. You are still my leader… and my friend.”

Essenta felt a little surge of pride, “From my heart, Ama… Do as you wish. I only hope we can move on… with you at our side, when it’s over.”

Dechaa and Zyra couldn’t believe it; Essenta was letting it happen! It was still hard to see if Ama would have stopped if Essenta told her to do so. Did she expect Essenta to say one way or the other? Would she have gone along? It didn’t really matter, as it was happening.

Ama put aside her greatsword and other weapons, leaving just herself, her beaded smock, and her wild mane.

The Terran hummed, “Are you sure you want to fight me with your bare hooves?”

Ama shrugged, “I do not know… as I do not know if I may win. But I wish to fight on fair terms, the same.”

The Terran shifted her stance, “Whenever you’re ready.”

Ama waxed, “I know you wish to remain anonymous. I do not understand but choose to accept. Still… I am Ama of the clan Waterfall. Please call me Ama. If I happen to be victorious, would you grace us with your name?”

The Terran spoke immediately; she sounded happy, “I would do so without reservation.”

Ama smiled to the Terran and back to her friends, “Very well… Let us learn your… name!”

Ama moved as fast as Essenta had ever seen her move. The Terran braced herself. Ama collided with the Terran, pushing her back. It was the damnedest thing: the Terran appeared as a statue, not moving at all. Her armored hooves tore up the ground as she was propelled across it, but still she herself remained ridgid.

Ama noticed, “I can see you are strong! Now… fight me!”

With that, she could no longer push the Terran. She became immovable and Ama was now the one tearing up the ground. She felt the Terran shift her weight.

“Uh, oh…” was all she got out.

The Terran put her hooves under and behind Ama’s front legs and heaved. As if she was throwing a rock, Ama was sent into the air. The company watched, as their friend and companion, who took out 10 stallions in about as many seconds, go sailing through the air. She screamed as she flew, end over end, landing in a hay pile some distance away. It was intentional, on the Terran’s part.

Zyra ran to Ama in a panic but found Ama unhurt. In fact, she was laughing fit to bust. She waved to Essenta.

“Essenta. There is no winning here. I have had my fun.”

Ama rolled off the pile, still laughing, while Zyra followed nervously. She approached the Terran, genuinely smiling.

“You are indeed powerful. It was worth losing so pitiably just to see a Terran’s strength.”

The Terran cocked her head, “Uh… thanks, I guess?”

Ama was still laughing as she approached Essenta and Dechaa, so tickled by clashing with such a power, “Let us go. We can still make the next town… …Essenta?”

Essenta was now staring towards the Terran. Ama waved a hoof before her eyes.

“Essenta…”

The princess dropped her gear, also casting aside her dirk; she fitted her cesti, “I’ll fight the Terran.”

Dechaa and Zyra faded, “What?”

Ama chuckled, “You may have even less chance than I, but I can understand.”

The Terran hoofed the ground, almost guiltily, “Princess? Do you really want to do this?”

It was not mocking. It was earnest. She knew the princess likely stood no chance. But Essenta had an idea.

“Gatekeeper… would you be against… a little magic?”

The Terran lit up, “Ah, your cesti… I do sense a magic from them.”

Essenta was puzzled, “But… you’re an Earth pony… you’re a Terran, but you’re an Earth pony. How?”

The Terran hooted with laughter, “It’s something we can do. We can’t use magic as a unicorn might, but drawing on such a power as we do, it fares us a few… interesting gifts. But I cannot tell what magic you possess.”

Essenta grinned, “Want me to tell you, or would you like to guess?”

The Terran giggled in a very… cute way. It was the weirdest noise they’d heard yet out of her. She trotted to a spot with a lot of open space behind her.

“Okay, Princess! Let’s see what your cesti can do!”

Essenta called over, smiling, “Please… Call me 'Essenta'!”

The Terran was practically giddy, “I’ll call you by your chosen moniker if you can knock me down!”

Dechaa and Zyra didn’t immediately understand, but Ama did. Before she could call on Essenta to stop, Essenta took off.

“Here it comes, gatekeeper! You won’t call me ‘Princess’ after this!”

Leaping through the air, her front right hoof collided with the Terran’s left shoulder. The magical cesti did what they were supposed to, sending something flying.

Essenta was sent spiraling through the air, back towards her friends. With many a crash and clatter, she wound up among them.

“OOOOOOOOOOW!!!!!” Essenta was rolling around, holding her right front leg. Dechaa and Zyra fell upon her, more than just a little concerned. The princess kicking and flopping around, Ama guffawed at her.

“Eh-heh-heh-essenta! Do you know nothing of Terrans?! Their muscle and skeletal structure alone must not be overlooked; she may not look it, but she weighs at least what I do, perhaps more. And that armor… But the magic of Terrans is a wondrous thing with a strength all its own. ”

The Terran hoofed the back of her neck, “Sorry, Princess. If I’d known that’s what you were doing, I’d have stopped you. Ama’s right. That won't work against me. Is your hoof okay?”

Essenta had stopped rolling around, having kicked off the cesti. Her hoof, and her leg up to her shoulder hurt, but it was okay. Dechaa moved it around, and it was fine, somehow.

Zyra clung to Essenta, “Cap… let’s get out of here. You’ve all had your fun. I don’t want-”

Perhaps the biggest shocker of the day occurred: Dechaa put on Essenta’s cesti.

She stood before the Terran, “Got a problem fighting a unicorn?”

Essenta, Zyra, and Ama all did a horsey snort. What?!

The Terran laughed, “No... as long as you don’t try to set me on fire or something.”

Not well known for her sense of humor, Dechaa laughed at the nasty idea, “Oh, no such thing… I just want to try something.”

The Terran took up a position, “I have a feeling I shouldn’t let you hit me… Let’s see if I can avoid it.”

Dechaa rushed in and attacked. The Terran was good and ready until Dechaa vanished. Telepor- Before the Terran could even finish her thought, she was sent sprawling by a mule kick from Dechaa. She really went flying, skidding on her face, back legs high in the air. As she slowed down, she tumbled forward on to her back with a great thunk.

The company was so shocked, they forgot to cheer. Dechaa stood easily, waiting to see what would happen next.

The Terran staggered to her hooves, “Wow! Well done! You can time your attacks to compensate for the concussion and send it back to me. Tell me… uh…”

Dechaa began to pace, staring down the Terran, “Dechaa... My name’s Dechaa Beiran.”

“Tell me, Dechaa… just how fast are you?!”

The Terran took off, and it was plain to see… she was faster than Ama. Possibly, she was more nimble than Ama. And Ama was faster than Dechaa. Dechaa could teleport, but she was no faster than Essenta on her hooves. Giving chase, the Terran closed in on Dechaa. To avoid her, Dechaa took to the scrubby landscape near the road. It did little to stop the Terran.

She chased Dechaa, obliterating their surroundings. Trees fell like toothpicks and boulders cracked. The company was astonished at The Terran’s speed. And with the weight she bore. The Terran literally wrecked every hiding place and feature.

Dechaa had nowhere to run. She had agility the Terran didn't, but not the endurance. The Terran didn’t gloat but stated facts.

“Your magic needs concentration to work. Can you hold up under a chase?”

Dechaa obviously struggled with this, panting, “I’m surprised I’m doing this well. Until two weeks ago, I was training to be an apothecary.”

The Terran doubled over laughing, “I can relate… at least in a way. I used to tend a stable. It’s strange where life takes us.”

Dechaa smiled back. The company looked on. Dechaa wasn’t doing badly, but what would she do?

The Terran lowered her gaze, “Let’s see what happens now.”

The Terran attacked and Dechaa could barely hold up, just keeping out of reach, using the cesti to glance off her armor. She saw her chance. Teleporting to just the right spot, she punched all four cesti into the Terran’s side. It was a gamble, but sometimes gambling pays off.

For a fraction of a second, all went still. Then the Terran went sprawling, but Dechaa was able to maintain and teleported over. Before the Terran even stopped bouncing, Dechaa was on her. She held her twin swords, which she never cast aside, to the Terran’s throat, panting, her horn glowing. The company, at first flabbergasted, cheered.

The Terran put her hooves up, “I yield, Dechaa.”

Dechaa let up at once, offering a hoof. The Terran took it, and Dechaa almost threw out her back assisting her.

“Thanks, Dechaa.”

The two walked over to the group. Dechaa’s companions piled on her, hugging and buffeting every surface of her they could reach. The unicorn laughed, treasuring her friends.

The Terran stood, with a rather bittersweet feeling rising up inside. But she pushed it down. The group now turned their attention to her.

The Terran felt a strange happiness, “Though it was Ama I made the agreement with, I suppose I’ll introduce myself.”

She unfastened her helmet, wrenching it off, “Oh, that’s good. I hate this thing…”

Casting aside her helm, it made a substantial divot in the ground when it landed. Before Essenta’s company, stood the most stunning mare the lot of them had ever seen in any of their collective lifetimes. Sure, she was sweating buckets, but it still showed.

“Wow, you guys… that was fun.”

She began to amble around, casting aside pieces of her armor, each of them embedding in the ground. Essenta hoofed a shoulder plate, trying to lift it. She was unable to. Ama lifted the helm and found it difficult. It fell back to the ground with a thunk, Ama jumping back as not to crush a hoof. The Terran had finished removing her armor. She turned to the company.

Stripped down to a tunic not unlike the one Essenta wore, they got a good look at the Terran: she was indeed beautiful. Her coat was the color of vanilla cream, her wavy mane and tail very black, with a healthy shine to it. She let her mane, tied up, loose and shook her head, giving it a little volume. Opening her eyes, her long lashes fluttering, they were very blue. They were as blue as blue could be blue. They had an amazing softness to them, and her smile was enchanting.

Standing in awe of this probable model of female perfection, the company gawked as she spoke, “I’m Loress Claystable. It’s been so much fun meeting all of you.”

Essenta eyed her; as she had guessed, Loress was just a bit taller than her, and apparently no heftier. It was like looking into the mirror to her idealized self. She couldn’t get over how beautiful Loress was. It was odd… this pony was at least 10 times her own strength. Even so, Essenta had seen enough of the world already, and had heard of many strange things, though, so nothing was all that weird anymore.

Loress hoofed the ground, somewhat timidly; it was a lot less strange to see her this way, behaving as she did, “I suppose you've more than earned your way across the bridge, but… would you like to stay a little while for morning tea?”

Loress had the most hopeful expression, as if she’d not had a guest, or anypony to talk to, in months. She was even… kind of glad she lost. If these interesting mares hadn't achieved victory, it was assured they’d just move on immediately. Now, they had time.

Unaware of all Loress’s thoughts, Essenta thought back to their exchanges with her. She seemed now the same polite, flappable mare she had been throughout their fight. Essenta saw the forlorn, possibly homesick Terran and her heart melted.

Not out of guilt or any similar obligation, “Sure, Loress. We’d love to stay for tea.”

Loress’s face lit up, “Oh, I’m so glad to hear… Oh! My carrot cake!”

She dashed inside, much to the confusion of the company. They heard clattering inside, Loress soon reappearing.

“That was close… another minute and it would have burned. Make yourselves comfortable.”

The next thing they knew, Loress was hauling out a table… an oak banquet table, large enough to seat 20. She carried it as if it weighed no more than a box of candy.

“This gatehouse used to be a soldiers’ post. This is what I have.”

Essenta once again felt a little sad; Loress was alone in some place like this, furnished for so many, “Uh, Loress? Let us help you.”

The company went in, a few of them grabbing five chairs. Dechaa joined Loress in the kitchen, also big enough to feed 20 stallions, and helped her with the tea.

Soon the five mares were sitting at one end of the table, enjoying fresh carrot cake and tea. To any passersby, which they had not seen, it would have been most peculiar. The cake was… pretty good. It was better than the crap they’d tried to bake in their little cast iron oven a few days earlier, thinking they could make a cobbler. It was awful. Their host couldn’t be happier, having somepony to share it with.

Loress gushed at having visitors, and she told them about herself,

“I had some training, sure, but mostly I just took care of our animals. My father’s a stable-master. I tried joining the army when I turned 17, but they rejected me… I’m not tall enough… or strong enough.”

Essenta found this hard to believe, “Not tall enough? You?”

Loress blushed a little, “I’m actually quite short for a Terran… Not sure why. My parents are closer to Ama’s height and so are my little brothers.”

Zyra found this very interesting, “Little brothers? Near Ama’s size?”

Loress smiled coyly, “Terran stallions get tall early. I quit growing when I was 14… I’m 19 now, so… this is as tall as I’m getting.”

Essenta wasn’t finished, “But not strong enough?”

Loress took a sip of her tea, enjoying it, “Well, what you’ve heard is true. Any Terran mare should be about 20 times as strong as the average Earth pony stallion… Terran stallions… there’s one in Terrow that scored a 38 on the test…”

Dechaa cocked her head, “Test?”

Loress smiled, nodding, “Oh, yes. The average strength of an Earth pony stallion is designated one point. I’m not sure of the exact figure. The army requires 18 points for mares... 23 for stallions. Even after all the extra work I did… I only got 14.”

Essenta’s jaw dropped. 14 times stronger than a normal Earth pony stallion?

Loress couldn’t help but poke fun, eying the princess, “But Princess, if you were the standard, I think I could’ve gotten my 20.”

“C’mon, we beat you. Call me ‘Essenta’.”

Loress took on a fiendishly gleeful expression, “It was Dechaa that bested me, not you… I’ll call you whatever you wish if you can beat me.”

The company laughed along with Loress. She was right. That had been the deal.

Loress giggled into her teacup, “Anyway… I like calling you ‘Princess’.”

Essenta and her friends did a take, what?????

Loress blushed; she wasn't a nervous wreck like Dechaa occasionally seemed, she was simply flappable, “I meant nothing by it… I mean… Zyra calls you ‘Captain’… and Dechaa calls you ‘Sen’… I… just wanted to be able to do it too…”

The Terran looked sadly onto her plate. It was nothing but crumbs. The same could be said of everypony else’s plates. The carrot cake was gone. The teapot was empty, as were their teacups… It was about time for Essenta’s company to move on…

Loress sighed, “Well… it was nice having tea with all of you. Thanks so much for staying. I suppose you’re in a hurry, so I can clean up. It’ll just take a few minutes.”

Something switched on in Essenta’s head. As she had felt earlier, it wasn’t pity, or some other obligation. She just wanted it.

“Loress… I know you said you were planning to go home in a few weeks, but… would you… like to come along with us?”

The company was surprised, but not unhappy about the idea. They were all ears. As for Loress’s ears, they perked up.

“…What?”

“I have to tell you though… anything you’ve probably heard about our quest is a load of horse apples. My father didn’t send us on any quest. We’re not on any mission of his. He… meant to punish me. His stupid idea backfired, and Dechaa, Zyra, and I literally had to run away. If… I’d stayed, even a few minutes longer, my father… my king… I don’t know just what he might’ve done. So… the quest is a farce… maybe. I don’t know.”

Loress looked at her thoughtfully, “So… Princess… what is it you plan to do?”

Essenta grinned ferally, remembering the same thing she told Ama at breakfast, they day after they met her… the day she joined them, “Even if we can’t get the so-called ‘Dragon Lance’, I- we are going to turn the world upside down a little bit. I’m not going back to the Dale with nothing to show for it. I don’t know exactly what’s waiting for us down there, but we plan to find out.”

Loress, a few happy tears forming in her eyes, enthused, “Well… the Dragon Lance does exist. It’s Terran-made. That’s what your father wants? It does reside in the Salvatrix Temple. King Dale no doubt heard of the plague… If you could get past all the traps and strangeness in the temple… it’s possible to attain it. If nopony beats you there.”

Light dawned in Essenta’s and her company’s eyes. Maybe this horseshit quest meant something after all.

Loress, her tears now falling down her cheeks, wavered, “As for your offer… I’d love to go with all of you… if you’ll have me.”

Essenta leaned over and hugged the little Terran. She received a bone crushing hug right back.

“Too tight! Too tight!”

Loress let up, “Sorry! This better?”

It was, and Essenta patted her back. With that, they all cleaned up after their little tea party, and Loress put the table back where it belonged. Since they’d be able to skip the long route, they ran back to town for supplies. Loress met up with the merchant, and apologizing profusely, resigned, much to his horror.

Well… he had money. He could just hire somepony else to do it. It payed better than picking fruit. He would have to lower his fare considerably, and any offers of "besting the guard" would not be offered anymore. Ponies had concerns about the bridge, even if the fare was low... If ponies could afford to cross the bridge, the canyon towns might see less business. Most of them popped up as a result of, and depended on the fact the canyon was impassable. But the concern was unfounded. The road by the canyon went east for hundreds of miles; it connected the land to the eastern cities, so travel along the Canyon Road would still occur.

As Loress went around town with the company, they realized the monster guarding the bridge was also the same ravishing mare they now beheld. The drunk, old Pegasus that had so frightened Dechaa, having apparently never left his stool, pulled the same nonsense with her when they stopped by the pub for a keg of ale. And she reacted much the same way, scrambling out of the pub, to the chorus of laughter from its patrons.

Zyra found a nice cart for an ounce of gold, and they decided to invest in it as a group. It was more than enough space for their gear and weapons. Loress, thankfully, left her incredible plated suit where she dropped it. She had lighter materials. They left the gatehouse as it was. It was no longer their concern.

Loading up their new wagon, Zyra cast a lightening spell upon it. One could blow hard on it and it would roll away, so she also put on a brake. They could take turns pulling it, or even if they didn’t, nopony would tire out from it. And now they could walk, unencumbered. Lovingly packing her tea set and cookware, Loress took one last look at the gatehouse. She wouldn’t exactly miss the place. She wished she’d met more ponies, but had been stuck with her duty, day in and day out, wearing that ridiculous suit of armor.

With a smile, Loress set hoof on the bridge alongside Essenta. The company followed, and they made their way south, in the early afternoon warmth.

Author's Note

Check out the Appendix for Princess Essenta, updated as the story moves along. It shows the story's timeline and character designs. Contains spoilers.

Alright... Dechaa got a chance to shine a little. And Essenta's little company picked up another misfit to aid in their dubious quest.

I like Loress's character. She's changed a great deal since her conception. She was originally a stern, yet compassionate wanderer, bored with life. Sounds weird, I know. I just didn't want any "Mary Sue" qualities to her, and she was rife with them... boring too. I hope none of the other characters have that lameness to them, either. I tried to avoid it.

But something about the entire chapter felt... off to me. If anyone thinks it's weird, let me know. I stumbled through this chapter as much as I did with Chapter 6.

If you enjoy Princess Essenta, please take a look at my other story, Larkspur Blossom, if you haven't.

Watch for Chapter 9 in the coming week.

Chapter 28: To Oust a Mayor

"Last Chance" Stopover Arc

Together in the bedroom for six, the girls plotted their next move under a soundproof bubble supplied by Zyra.

“We gotta get the fuck outta here!” Loress rattled in a hushed cry. “This guy’s out of his gourd…! I think we need to fight! We need to get away from here as fast as possible!”

It was rather unusual to see Loress give into hysterics; other than Ama she was the most levelheaded mare in the party. Still, her idea wasn’t shot down at once; given what had happened, rather than “avoiding notoriety”, it was more a case of “possible life and death”. They’d surely joked about fighting all the bandits posing as “rangers” or “outlaws” or whatever they thought they were…

They’d also joked about Essenta “neutering” the boss bandit when she grew tired of his advances at the pub; she’d merely drawn a little blood when she mule-kicked him in the balls, eliciting a good vomit out of him. The girls had taken this situation to the very boundaries of witticism, guffawing about some childless old stallion keeping his testicles in a jar of alcohol on a shelf after they took leave of his body so many, many years before.

What they’d just seen and/or were in the splash-zone for was a lunatic gelding his own son. That was no laughing matter. Wilka was still out like a light, having been dumped haphazardly onto her bed.

Loress continued to freak, the tiniest bit of blood on her gown to complement the fresh sick-stain in her lap, “It wouldn’t be that hard… I could crack the bars on the jail cell as easily as snapping sticks; I can break granite… marble… Our weapons and supplies are somewhere… Then we fight and disappear! It’d be easy-as-pie to tear our way out of here!”

Essenta, the only one to get a face full, had washed the blood from her fur at the very least, “We can’t be rash here, girls… I mean, sure, the guy just emasculated a 16-year-old colt- his own son- but… Oh, fuck! What are we gonna do…?!”

The princess flopped on her back to stare at the ceiling. Somewhat dispirited, the other girls huddled on the two beds they occupied.

Orni decided to say something, though it wasn’t particularly helpful, “And we still don’t know what’s going on… What time was that Clovis stopping by?”

Dechaa regarded the clock; it read 12:45 p.m., “Any minute, now…”

Zyra had nothing to say, still thinking about the veiny giggle-berries bouncing across her placemat.

Loress had managed to calm herself down; she sighed and espied the others, “Okay… Clovis may have… screwed us over but he’s hopefully our surest ticket out of here. We need to at least listen to what he has to say.”

Nopony was happy about this, but it was the best option; if they didn’t like what he had to say, they could always kill him.

Before anypony could concur, there was a knock at the door, “Girls?”

It was Clovis; he sounded nervous, as was not unwise.

Taking a glance from Essenta, Zyra said, “It’s open… Not like you gave us a lock anyway…”

Clovis entered; he’d cleaned off whatever Pallo’s coin-purse had squirted at him and was in a fresh tunic. The simpering grin he attempted to maintain rendered him killable.

Without preamble Essenta hopped off the bed and stalked towards him, eyes becoming slits; she breathed, “You snake…”

Clovis halted, looking affronted, “Hey, now…”

Not at all happy he’d come with anything even hinting at coming close to remotely approximating a presumptuous mindset, the princess bared down on him; her voice was little more than a whisper, but everypony surely heard her, “You motherfucking little twat…”

Spittle burst from Essenta’s mouth when she sprayed out the “t-word”, hitting Clovis right in the face.

Clovis slowly backed away, his eyes darting about, “Now, now, Princess…”

“Zyra… Can you sound-seal the room? And maybe the outside walls?” Essenta leered sideways to the little mage.

Clovis felt his balls pull up somewhere into his lower-trunk and he briefly lamented some of his recent decisions.

“Oh, yes,” taking up a nasty sneer of her own, Zyra’s horn glowed and a vrrn could be perceived. “You’re all clear, Cap!”

With knowledge the whole room and surrounding walls were now soundproof Essenta propelled Clovis into the wall. Hoisting the lanky unicorn up by the throat she found the pressure point and suppressed his magic. Clovis kicked and gagged and carried on, hooves barely able to reach the floor. The mare that had spent many years emulating a farmgirl found the task easy.

“You shit-poke con-artist!” she squawked. “You’re the one that pulled us into this mess! Give me one good reason why I shouldn’t blow out your nutsack! Or maybe I should just break your FUCKING NECK! How’s that sound, you cock-stain?!”

“MMFUIEUGUEBEGUKS!” Clovis wailed, face turning purple.

“Use your big-boy words! Or can’t you?! I hear some foals got dropped on their heads when they slid out of mommy, but you were clearly thrown against a wall!”

The little company nodded in appreciation as Clovis spluttered something constituting a response; they’d never heard that insult from Essenta but the next one wasn't very good.

“What…?” Essenta took an overly-solicitous tone, lifting him higher. “Would you talk better if your parents were first cousins instead of second?!”

One of the girls might have pointed out the first and second cousin part was supposed to be switched, but it didn't matter much; Essenta had Clovis's attention.

Clovis wasn’t able to make quite as much noise the next time; his eyes bugged as the princess put a little more oomph intoher endeavor, “Mlsoejoodwert!”

The girls, not exactly pitying the turd, didn’t envy his position; they shied away at the princess’s rage. This was some heavy shit. Somehow, Wilka remained in nap-time land, despite the noise.

“I can’t hear you, you tutti-frutti breadstick! I’ll pop your head like a pimple on ball night! You waste-of-life! How many ponies have you led to the slaughter, you murdering shit-sack?!” Essenta shook him with much violence, rattling his head against the granite wall.

Clovis’s eyes bugged further and rolled back as he squirmed pitiably; Essenta continued to work on him a few more seconds, not not enjoying what she was doing. Still, the tip of his tongue had just begun to turn blue, so Loress hoofed Essenta’s shoulder.

“That’s enough, Princess… he’s no good to us dead,” she turned towards Dechaa. “Dechaa, if he makes a wrong move… blast his ass!”

The unicorn was perplexed she was asked this, “Uh… sure.”

Staring into his bulging eyes, Essenta wanted to at least strangle him into unconsciousness to begin to slake her fury but took the advice of her “advisor”. Relaxing her hold, she threw Clovis against the wall before he could get his footing.

Gasping and wheezing as if he’d just escaped being raped and/or eaten by an army of hyenas or something, Clovis lay in a heap, tears of effort in the corners of his eyes, his whole body heaving. He barely even noticed the shadow cast over him.

Essenta gave him a deft kick, turning him onto his back and pulling from him more squirming and complaining, “You’d better start talking, Clovis… or you’ll get another.”

Despite the look of impending death in the princess’s eyes Clovis was a little more resilient than most ponies would be in such a situation; he lived under a monster, “What do you… want me to say…?”

Considering the breathless stallion writhing on the floor in front of her, Essenta was at a loss. What did she want to hear from him? The other four girls that were awake couldn’t come up with much either.

A consummate swindler, Clovis couldn’t exactly explain this away or his way out of it, but he could explain, still catching his breath, “First off… I’m no murderer!”

“Just because you’re not getting your own hooves dirty doesn’t mean much,” Loress now wanted to asphyxiate him too.

Clovis cringed at the truth, but, “I know… you girls want to try escaping… I’d advise against it… Half the city’s… on Mel’s payroll. You could probably get out of here… but you’d be without supplies and on the… run! It’d be hard to get away from his influence. So please at least listen to me before you do that again!”

Zyra regarded him as if he was an ass-blister, “Oh, please impart on us your great knowledge. That’s about the only reason Cap didn’t spin your head off your body!”

The five mares formed a rough semicircle around Clovis, looking none too pleased with their new acquaintance. Clovis became more afraid, but his fears subsided just a little when Loress hefted him onto one of the beds. He felt almost reassured when Orni brought him a glass of water, which he downed enthusiastically.

Dechaa glared at him, “Okay, Clovis… no games… no screwing us around… You try to fuck us over again and you’re dead. Now… talk.”

The girls were unused to hearing Dechaa speak in that manner, but it was effective; Clovis looked good and afraid.

“I wasn’t trying to ‘fuck you over’…” he had just about caught his wind. “Things got out of hoof… Ama upset Pallo… and the pub. This was the best way to keep her and all of you out of trouble. And I have a job to do… that I need your help with. Mel’s actions at lunch… I didn’t foresee that happening.”

Loress scowled at him, “Malarkey! You work for the most powerful criminal in the city; you’ve seen what he’s capable of.”

Essenta put in, “And don’t think I forgot how you looked ‘less than inconsolable’ when you looked over to me; you’ve seen this all before, haven’t you?!”

“Well…” Clovis floundered. “Yes! But I’ve never seen him fly off the handle that fast! I only got nervous when he called Pallo in… I swear! I never thought he’d go ballistic like that!”

“A great comfort, that is,” Zyra almost barked a short laugh. “We feel so much better knowing your intentions are so pure! But you’ve bedded us with a maniac and you promised getting clear of this was a cinch… win or lose.”

Clovis reeled at that, “I… didn’t foresee that either. I’ve never once seen him go back on something like that! He must be more worked up than I thought about the new mayor.”

“And you gave us that cocksure grin and said it was all in your hooves,” Loress spat. “Do you even have any power?!”

Looking slighted, Clovis spat right back, “Yes! Yes, I do. I wasn’t kidding when I said I ran the show… but Mel’s taken a more active interest… Not much I can do about it. Still… trust me.”

This was the dumbest thing the girls had heard in a while; Essenta hissed, “Trust you?! Why should we trust you? Or Melchior?! What’s stopping Melchior from just killing us all?! …Or trying to? I’d like to see him try…”

Loress shook her head, murmuring, “Oh, no, you don’t, Princess…”

Clovis knew it was a hard sell but he was confident in something, “He likes you mares. He even likes Ama. He won’t kill you… or try… If you cooperate you’ll be fine. The plan’s a shoe-in... I hope.”

“You’ll understand our hesitance,” Essenta loomed over him. “You’ve already burned us a few times.”

None of the mares were terribly self-assured in much of anything.

Clovis sighed, “I know… but look on the bright side… If things do go south, you can always fight your way out.”

Essenta had to restrain herself from snapping his neck, then and there; in fact, Loress held her back for good measure as she almost managed to pull the Terran a few steps, “Enough of your smartass cock-suckery!”

Clovis, after all he’d been through in the last few minutes, finally came close to wetting his fresh tunic; he yipped and pressed himself into the wall.

Dechaa moved closer, “Now… Clovis… I think it’s about time you tell us what’s going on.”

Clovis gulped, “I still have some details to hammer out, but it happens tomorrow night. There’s a ball at the mayor’s residence; the whole town’s invited… at least those with enough gold. You six will go in there and dig up the dirt Mel wants. You’ll have no problems getting in! You’re all beauties and we have gold and ballgowns aplenty; you’ll fit right in- as young heiresses!”

He said the last sentence as if he’d just handed them all a swell gift.

A moment of silence ensued; Zyra’s horn sparked, “That’s all you can tell us?!”

Clovis cowered, “Don’t zap me...! Yes… there’s not much else to say. I’ll know more tonight, and we can discuss, prepare, and plan tonight and tomorrow!”

The little company frowned at the dubious statements.

At last, Clovis spoke again, “I’m in the same boat as all of you… I’m dead if this doesn’t go over well.”

Somepony had to say it; Orni’s face contorted and she asked him with utter disgust in her voice, “How the fuck did a guy like you become Melchior’s enforcer, much less the one running his show?”

The stallion’s lips twitched, tugged by a little smile, “Because I always get results.”

Having briefly washed again and received fresh clothes the girls holed up in their room the rest of the day; there wasn’t much else to do, other than water and relieve themselves. Regarding that, Wilka, who’d finally woken up, had just come back from her adventures in finding the closest washroom; she looked… bewildered.

Dechaa sat up on her bed, dreading even asking, “Uh… what’s wrong, Wilka?”

Wilka’s demeanor didn’t do their collective confidence any favors, “You have to see this…”

“What?” Essenta looked ill, not relishing thinking about much of anything going on outside their own walls.

“Back… by the dining room. I ain’t going back! Go see for yourself…” the petite Pegasus staggered onto her bed and turned towards the wall.

The princess and the Terran were the only two that decided to go check out whatever had thrown Wilka off her game, though there’d been an awful lot of game-throwing that day. Approaching the hall adjacent to the dining room, the girls stopped.

Essenta peered around the corner. She knew Delia the maid was one of several that had to clean up the sticky mess in the dining room as well as the trails of blood and hoofprints that likely led halfway to Melchior’s office and wherever Pallo had been stowed while his nutsack was stitched up... if somepony was even bothering with it.

The princess saw the damnedest thing she’d seen in the last couple hours- it would take one Hell-of-a-thing to top seeing some stallion castrate his only child- and looked on with incredulity.

Melchior was pushing a mop, washing the floor energetically as Delia and his maids and custodians looked on, scared out of their skins.

“It isn’t that hard! Most of you are unicorns, so please-feel-free to use your magic!” Melchior stated without a great deal of malice, a smirk on his face and a hearty grunt emphasizing his efforts. “Otherwise it just takes a little elbow grease… Yeah…! I’m so gladI decided against wood floors! Marble all the way! It doesn’t absorb surface-shit as granite would. I’m so glad I spent the extra gold! Oh, yeah! SO… FUCKIN’… GLAD…! I just wish the boys’d used a tarp! And I shoulda washed my hoofsies before tracking bloodeverywhere! But it’s okay! Accidents happen! That’s one reason we invented soap after all!”

Having left a section of the floor glittering under the skylights, Melchior looked satisfied with his work.

He turned to his employees, all but soiling their uniforms, “Now that’s how you clean a fuckin’ bloodstain! Everypony get back to it; we have an after-dinner guest in a few hours.”

“Yes, Master!” they all chimed as they scrubbed with renewed enthusiasm.

Melchior paddled away with the calmness of one heading for a nice nap, which was his likely ambition. Essenta gawked at Loress in raw revulsion with what they were seeing; Loress returned the look, flabbergasted. What kind of asshole was Melchior?!

Having increasingly conclusive awareness Melchior was fucking insane, the girls gave the idea of springing Ama, collecting their weapons, and tearing out of the mansion like a fart tearing out the seams of a tunic a few more moments.

But this was folly upon pipedream and they waited for Clovis to arrive. He came soon, with a tray of sandwiches and a lot of bruises. They regarded him and his offering of food as if the two were dogshit stuck to a vanity mirror.

With about as much enthusiasm as a constipated foal getting a cold-water enema from a fireplug, the girls ate while Clovis explained.

“The mayoral ball is an annual event. The rich and powerful from all over the city, other places, and those who wish of the nobility of some nearby kingdoms attend. We have more to discuss in the morning- when we know more- but we can begin planning now. You will divide into three pairs: one will be a wealthy heir and the other will be … a servant.

“Princess… you will serve as Loress’s hoofmaiden, ‘Sen’; she will be ‘Resso’, a merchant's heiress of Terrow.”

Essenta wasn’t wild about the idea of being Loress’s servant, but it made sense; Loress knew of merchantly things, living in Terrow. She was also the most lady-like among them, hooves down…

Clovis went on, “Zyra, you will be Wilka’s hoofmaiden, ‘Aryz’, and she will be ‘Willi’… a… sullen little heiress from some old Pegasus family- I’ll come up with that later- in the east.”

Given Wilka’s size, she could pass for a petulant child… and Zyra would be the perfect unicorn helper.

“And finally… Dechaa will be ‘Ren’, the assistant of Orni, ‘Nior’… a child of an old Earth pony family from out west… the frontier. Plenty of ponies out there are striking it rich in precious metals. You will each have a task. Essenta and Loress… you’ll be with me, running the operation. Zyra and Wilka… You’ll be the ones actually infiltrating the mayor’s estate. And Dechaa and Orni… you’re the bait… Well, Orni’s the bait.”

Silence reigned in the room a moment.

Dechaa stammered, “Whoa, whoa, whoa… What? Bait?”

The others didn’t like the sound of it either.

Clovis shrugged, “After Loress, Dechaa is the most beautiful- not that you’re not all pretty great- and Orni is cute-as-pie. I need you two to distract the mayor… Orni just happens to be his type… maybe.”

Orni didn’t like this much; she’d already been made fun of when she was young for being built so strongly compared to the other fillies in Renata and now she was to be the object of somepony’s lust?!

Clovis tried to defend himself, “Hey! I’d use Wilka instead, but I need her skills for the infiltration! And there are other reasons… This gives each group a unicorn… that’s the idea.”

Loress wasn’t pleased about the mayor having a thing for “sturdy little fillies” like Orni, “Is that your plan?! Trapping the mayor with Orni?!”

Wilka possibly hated the idea of being bait even more than Orni; she whined at the thought.

“No, no, no…” Clovis backed up. “Nothing of that sort will happen… I’m sure… but only if we’re wrong that is… If we're right... in that case, I can’t make any promises…”

Essenta felt her stomach clench, “Wrong about what?”

Clovis hoofed the back of his injured neck; he seemed reluctant to speak further, “I don’t think anything bad will happen- not to Orni at least… too public- but… we’re pretty sure the mayor has a thing for little colts… That’s what we’re trying to confirm… and Orni’s the only one of you that could possibly pass for a boy.”

The girls were too stunned to even respond; Clovis took this as an indication he should leave.

“Well girls,” he backed up towards the door. “I’ll wake you for breakfast… and then we can prepare.”

He disappeared about as fast as was physically possible.

Ama lay on her back, dozing in the cell. The bed was comfortable enough and she had her needs met. Without a gown to fit a mare of her stature, she had on a fresh stallions’ tunic. She’d stayed in much worse places, after all, so she tried to take it in stride. Having had a plain, if pleasant dinner she was content to catch up on sleep; it seemed she was always a little short on it.

But she was brought out of her dozing when she heard the clip-clop of somepony entering the room.

It was Clovis; he turned to the very same guard he’d laid into that morning, “Take a break, Alfwin.”

Alfwin’s hesitance was evident, so Clovis waved him out.

“Go on, it’s alright. I’m… sorry for tearing into all of you this morning. Go get some chow.”

With no further resistance the stallion left for a time.

Clovis gimped closer to the cell as Ama sat up.

Ama gasped, “Clovis, what has happened to you?!”

Clovis was a mess: there was bruising around his neck and he shook like a new foal taking its first steps.

“Sit down!” Ama pleaded. “You look terrible!”

Clovis collapsed onto his rump, trying to give the Mazan a little smile, “Yeah… the girls didn’t take too kindly to me, considering the trouble I pulled you all into. They didn’t like my plan much either, but at least the princess didn’t try to wring my neck again.”

He told her of what had transpired that day, from his brashness at breakfast, to the terrifying lunch, to his ass being whupped by some princess.

Ama was shocked, but not overly; the world wasn’t the prettiest thing at all times and her friends could be rather rash.

“I don’t blame them, Ama…” Clovis lamented. “I really screwed up. If I’d known what would happen…”

“But you can never know what will happen, Clovis. I do not know you, but I can see you are a better stallion than many we have encountered.”

Looking up to her eyes, her height just eclipsing his, he felt like a little colt, “I’m not a good pony, Ama. But this city… is a nightmare! I often regret the day I led my friends down here…”

Ama chose to listen to his story; she could tell it was something he may have never told anypony.

Sometime later, Essenta and Zyra were out in the halls; they weren’t exactly hungry, given all they’d dealt with that day, but they’d been given range of the mansion and were planning to get some light snacks from the staff kitchen. They tried their best to push Clovis’s plan from their minds.

With a bag of pears and a few loaves of sweetbread, they began to meander back to their room. As they rounded a corner, they came to face Delia the maid.

“Guests… the Mazan wishes to speak to you… and in my good fortune it’s you two specifically. Please come along,” Delia bowed her head.

Figuring nothing too bad was waiting for them, and Zyra having not seen Ama since the day before, they eagerly went.

Delia motioned Alfwin the guard away and took her own leave, permitting Essenta and Zyra some privacy. In the cell Ama was lying on the bed.

Noting her friends, she sprang up and went to the bars. It was clear to her guests she was not in the best mood.

Zyra put a hoof to the bars, fretting, “Are you okay, Ama?! I heard they-”

Ama shushed her, “I am fine… Clovis has seen to it.”

The mention of his name had the two mares on the outside angry; Zyra glowered, “I don’t know what kinda honey he’s been pouring in your ear, but you can’t trust him! If you knew-!”

Ama interrupted her, looking unhappy, “I know what has been going on this day. You girls are in a pickle, Master Melchior is ‘without a son’, and I am to be locked up in here until the rest of you find evidence the new mayor cannot hold up against, and he is forced from office. I know it all too well. And I wish you had not beaten Clovis so badly when he went to parley, Princess; it was most uncalled for!”

Essenta knew the significance of Ama calling her by title. Ama still believed in her own princess, on the other side of the world; she used the title out of contempt.

It hurt to hear it from Ama; Essenta hoofed the floor, “I, uh…”

Ama shook her head, “You fool… please reflect on your actions before you take them. If you make a habit of such thoughtlessness I will be loathe to follow you further…”

This really hurt to hear; it had Essenta close to tears. Zyra could tell her old friend was pained; it hurt her to hear that.

Ama dropped it for the time, “You discussed his plan?”

Zyra spoke for the princess, “We did, Ama… with more to follow in the morning. It’s a… doozy…”

“I am sure it is,” Ama stretched, cracking her back. “Whatever he might have conjured up… it is a better idea than running. I am glad you were not so impetuous to attempt escape; the odds are… not the best, in the end…”

Essenta, feeling powerless, said, “We’ve discussed it many times today… We don’t want to, but I think we have to follow through with Clovis’s plan, now that we have some idea… It just seems the safest way.”

Ama shocked them both with her next statement, “Indeed. I have spoken at length with Clovis. You should trust him.”

Gawking at their levelheaded friend, it was perhaps the first time they’d ever distrusted Ama’s judgement on anything.

Zyra looked closely at her, almost panicking, “What did they do?! Did they brainwash you?! Did they-?”

“Silence!” Ama hissed. “Look into my eyes, Zyra. My mind is my own. Do not jump to conclusions so quickly…”

Quickly scanning her eyes, though not as adept as Dechaa, Zyra could find no wrong anywhere within the Mazan, “You are fine…”

“I am, girls,” Ama answered. “Do you trust me?”

Still hesitant, Essenta answered for them both, “Yes…”

“Then trust Clovis; he will not steer you wrong.”

This was about as convincing a sell as ice cream in Hell, but the two free mares gave in.

Ama smiled, “Good. Now get back to the girls, wherever they are. I see you went for snacks… How about leaving one of those pears? I could use a snack myself.”

Zyra had to put the pear in halves, so it would fit through the bars; Ama gladly took it. Yawning, she returned to the bed, munching on the fruit.

Easily perceiving the girls’ incessant worry, Ama calmly stated, “Do not worry and have a little faith. Clovis is not what you think him to be.”

“…What…?” Essenta cocked her head.

Ama smiled a little, leaning back on the bed, “Trust me.”

That was easier said than done, and Essenta and Zyra returned to the room.

Clovis found himself outside Ama’s cell once again, everypony else on the property sound asleep or on duty.

Ama was almost mirthful at hearing the plan Clovis had constructed, “Oh, what a sordid world this can be, Clovis. But if any ponies will be able to accomplish this, it is Essenta’s company.”

“You sound confident,” Clovis was less so.

Ama downed another cup of ale, which Clovis had been magicking through the bars in liquid form.

“This is probably my favorite ale I have ever tried,” she said absentmindedly. “Please thank the brothers at the pub for cutting loose a small cask.”

Clovis tried to smile; he liked this mare, “I’ll be sure to do that.”

“Please do… And I am confident. We have been through quite a few predicaments in our time on the road. This is but a rock in the path taking us further on…”

The stallion shook his head, “If you knew what kind of stallion Master Melchior was, Ama…”

Sucking down yet another cup, Ama let out the tiniest burp, “Pardon me… Clovis… I know what kind of stallion your master is. He is weak, irrational, and has nothing to stand upon other than fear. It will be his end, someday.”

Clovis shrank, knowing himself to be part of all that, “And that speaks volumes about me…”

Ama shook her head, “You are not evil, Clovis. Do not think such things about yourself. Tell me again, why do you serve Melchior?”

He sighed, “I’m afraid… and he has power… at least in its basest form.”

“No, Clovis,” Ama reprimanded him. “Why do you serve Melchior?”

It was unclear to even Clovis himself why he had such a hard time admitting to it, “Because it was the surest way for us to survive… my friends and me. It’s still the surest way; it may be the only way.”

“Yes, Clovis,” Ama’s eyes bore into his. “You are a survivor. Most ponies in this world… have the luxury of never making a life-or-death decision. They judge, knowing so little… Those who have not stood against the vacuum… are fortunate. You and your friends escaped that Hell on Earth… because you were willing to lead them. You brought them across the continent, only determined to live to see another day. It brought you here. You have done what you must to survive… and to see your friends through it all. That is why they still choose to follow you, Clovis; you are an honorable stallion, in your way… And I can see you are very kind… and I would not be loathe to call you ‘friend’.”

Clovis sniffled, his eyes having been streaming a moment.

Ama put her hoof to the bars, “Please, Clovis… do what you can to help my friends through this.”

After a moment he put his own hoof to hers, as much as the bars permitted, “I’ll try, Ama.”

Author's Note

Check out the Appendix for Princess Essenta, updated as the story moves along. It shows the story's timeline and character designs. Contains spoilers.

With a questionable plan taking form, the girls will attempt to expose the mayor's potentially questionable tastes. With the promise of freedom and an easy time departing the "City of Last Chances", they'll certainly try.

If you enjoy Princess Essenta, please take a look at Larkspur Blossom. A story of a colt finding his worth and making a better life for himself.

Also look for The Virgin Company. A tale of a military pony and his platoon in a war centuries ago.

Like, follow, or leave a comment if you please. It's been fun writing and I'm glad some enjoy it.

Thanks for reading, and take care.

Chapter 36: New Beginnings and Final Endings

"Last Chance" Stopover Arc

Even as far south as the company was the weather seemed mightily autumn-like; the smaller deciduous woody-plants in the mostly evergreen forest had finished turning and were beginning to fall, the company having hidden out for a week. The air was crisp, and the fallen leaves gave a spicy odor when trampled upon.

Ama walked in front of Essenta, taking point on level-ground; she was all-smiles, “Finally, girls! The deserts of the south are just a brief jaunt ahead!”

None of them seemed to be quite as tickled as the Mazan but all were glad to be on the way again. They’d had a nice, warm breakfast of eggs, fried potatoes, and biscuits with fruit on the side supplied by their new companion, fresh from the kitchens of Pallo’s estate; she’d met them at the base of the mountains as planned and they’d briefly picnicked.

“Did you girls hear about the mare that had a wooden foal?” Delia paddled along behind Essenta.

The former maid had been telling jokes all morning, most of them rather dirty.

“Uh… no,” Dechaa was behind Delia; the unicorn wasn’t expecting to hear anything nice.

Delia chuckled, “Seems she got nailed by the carpenter…”

All the girls halted abruptly; Wilka’s nose wound up in Dechaa’s ass. The joke was the nastiest one of the day, but it was still early; the former maid was just getting started.

Essenta and Zyra guffawed but some of them were at odds, exchanging disgusted looks. Loress chortled nonetheless.

Ama, inside a few seconds, showed clarity; her eyes lit up and her cheeks pinkened, “Oh… I see.”

The tall mare began to giggle, pleasing Delia immensely; Ama looked like a colt who’d been disputing with his friends amusing names for the vagina, meaning she was sniggering rather stupidly. But it’s not like the girls hadn’t covered that topic and many other sordid subjects themselves, in their hours and days and weeks and months of walking… “Baby-cannon” had won 5-to-2 over “axe-wound” most recently and “gobble-creature” wasn’t even in the running anymore by the second or third time they played.

Delia smiled, “Clovis said you had a pretty good funny bone, Ama.”

Ama began walking again, “I am learning, Delia; it is most fun… I am afraid I do not know many jokes, though… Mazan humor… does not translate well and it is… not very humorous to begin with; I say that with great sincerity.”

Delia hooted, “I’m afraid I’ve never heard it… And I’ve met quite a few Mazans traveling through the city; it’s on the major road from the southeastern coasts.”

Ama beamed, “Perhaps you did not pick up on it; many miss it.”

The other girls had also resumed walking.

Loress wasn’t sure why but she wanted to contribute; she said shyly, “A couple years back I heard what I think was the nastiest joke ever.”

Essenta, Zyra, Ama, and Delia were curious. The rest weren’t.

Delia turned back, considering the Terran with an eager smile, “Well, out with it; don’t say something like that and then be so coy…”

Dechaa whined, taking on an air of sickened gloom, “Oh, Loress, don’t…”

Loress, not terribly mischievous, would now gleefully spill; she blushed red as a cherry, “Okay… Two stallions are lost in the desert when they come across a dead pony’s carcass. One of them is so hungry, he drops straight to his knees and starts chowing down on it. The other one stares, waiting for his friend to finish. About two minutes later he throws up everything he ate.

The other one says, ‘I knew if I waited long enough I could get a hot meal!’"

That caught them off-guard.

“Oh, that is awful!” Essenta had a nervous smile tugging on her lips; the laugh came reluctantly.

The rest were disgusted, if not impressed, with hearing something like that out of Loress.

Delia laughed heartily, “That’s pretty good, Loress! I’ve heard a lot of jokes but never that one!”

Loress flushed crimson, not entirely regretting telling the icky joke. A few laughs were had by the girls.

Zyra had been waiting for an opportunity to share a joke, “I heard one at that little pub we hit east of Silas… Three brothers are sitting in their favorite pub enjoying some beers. There’s this old stallion that keeps accosting them.

The old stallion goes up to the younger stallions and says, ‘I fucked your mom!’

The brothers just ignore him.

After a while the old stallion shows up again and says, ‘I fucked your mom last night!’

The brothers still ignore him.

But the old stallion won’t stop; he approaches them again, ‘I had your mom in the ass!’

Still, the younger ones ignore him.

So, the old stallion comes up another time and says, ‘I had your mom in the ass this morning!’

This time the young stallions don’t ignore him; one of them slams down his mug and yells, ‘Damn it, Dad, you’re drunk! Go home already.’”

The punchline hit the girls with some force; other than Dechaa they were falling all over themselves.

Delia giggled, “Can’t let you outdo me… Here’s a good one!”

Orni fussed, “Oh, please… no more gross jokes for a while…”

The company could respect this; Orni was a good sport about things and had a few vulgar jokes in her repertoire, but the territory they were in had grown just foul.

Delia relented, “Okay… Anypony got a story?”

Nopony spoke up.

The new addition to their party yawned; they’d gotten an early start, “Okay… Falls to me then.”

They were leery but listened.

“A ship capsized in the ocean and only five ponies survived when they washed up on a deserted island: four stallions and one mare. They were all Earth ponies, so they couldn’t fly away or send a magical distress signal as unicorns might, so they had to wait and hope somepony would come close enough to get their attention. Once they had the basics of water, food, shelter… the stallions decided they had other needs to meet.”

What?

“Thankfully, the mare was okay with it and they came up with an agreement that they could each be with the mare for a week at a time and have all the sex and stuff they wanted,” Delia continued.

“Delia, how about—?” Dechaa tried to stop her; the unicorn looked ill.

“Now hold on, Dechaa…” Delia advised.

Not everypony was convinced with this advisement. Was this a story?

“They never saw any possible rescue, but they lived this way for a few years, each of the stallions getting the mare a week at a time.”

Dechaa cringed, “Delia…”

“Dechaa… relax,” Delia counseled. “Things were good. But one day the mare got sick and died. The first couple weeks were pretty bad for the four stallions. That became a month and it was just awful… After a couple more months it became unbearable. And after five months they began to lose their minds; it became so terrible they agreed it was time to bury her.”

Once again, the girls halted, horrified with their new companion’s sense of humor…

“Fu-u-u-u-uck…” Essenta breathed raspily; she looked a little green around the gills.

Other than Zyra, who was laughing very hard, most of the mares protested in disgust.

“Geez, Delia!”

“What’s your problem?!”

Ama was too stunned to speak; she just stood there, a little red in the cheeks.

Delia just laughed, “I never said it was a true story!”

Orni bristled, “I said, ‘no more gross jokes’!”

Delia waved a hoof, “Meh… I win anyway.”

Dechaa cried, “Since when were we having a contest?!”

Delia cast a comical leer the healer’s way, “The games of jibe and anecdote are always a contest, Miss Beiran.”

Orni simmered at Delia’s jollity, “You asked for it…”

Delia mocked the concept and the other girls weren’t confident Orni had much but would soon learn as they had in the past the little Knollwing was full of surprises.

Orni imparted, “A stallion is complaining to his friend at the pub, ‘My wife hasn't given me head in three years. She hasn’t let me put it in in a year. No hoofjobs either! She treats me like dirt and I'm ready to kill myself… I just want to get my pecker pulled, one way or another…’

His friend says ‘Well, you're in a tough spot. Luckily, I know somepony who could help you out. She gives the best head in town. And she even sings while doing it. And she’s clean to boot! It's truly amazing. Best part about it is that it's only one silver coin.’

The first stallion says, ‘That's amazing! Would you take me there?!’

‘I’ll take you to her on one condition. You gotta wear a blindfold,’ the second stallion says.

‘Sounds fair enough.’

They finally get to the lady and the unhappy stallion receives the finest knob-polishing of his life, wearing a blindfold. She's getting the facial in-and-out and singing at the same time. And it’s great…

After he’s blown his load he says, ‘That was the best! Seriously, how’d you pull off such a trick?’

She giggles, ‘Well, I've been singing since I was 5-years-old and lost my eye when I was 10.’”

For possibly the first time in Delia’s life she’d been bested at the game of joke. Much to everypony’s surprise they’d all wound up laughing for about 20 minutes; it was so immoderate there was no other response. Half the reason the joke had been so great was it came from the mouth of the mild-mannered Orni.

Sides hurting, they could just about see the edge of the desert over the forest. With great humor and enthusiasm, the girls cheered it up as they made their way south.

But within a moment of exiting the heavier woods, Ama halted, staying the rest of them, “Oh, just splendid…”

The others knew Ama’s look of disgust and well-used sarcasm stemmed from the sight of five hooded ponies in the path a distance up the road. It took the happy wind right out of their fun-sails, seeing that.

Essenta was still weary from all the recent trouble, “Oh, fucking great… Why do I have a bad feeling about this?”

Zyra looked uneasy, “They’re waiting for somepony, Cap… Three guesses who.”

Delia wasn’t sure, “Nopony other than Clovis and his immediate staff and Pallo should know who you all are; I trust nopony spilled. Perhaps they're just travelers... but they could be bandits.”

Essenta bristled, “If that’s all they are then it should be easy.”

Ama noted the princess’s feral look and bonked the back of her head, “Relax and do not jump to conclusions. They may be, indeed, travelers.”

Loress called up, “Don’t hesitate; just move. We can see what’s going on once we get a little closer. Keep your eyes on the trees. It’s thinned out now but keep watch. Everypony play it cool.”

They’d try. Taking a casual-careful approach, the company paddled towards the five ponies blocking the road.

Moments Earlier…

Having finally caught up with their quarry and with some business concluded, five unicorn stallions lounged about on and near the road. Few used the path that circumvented “Last Chance” City as anypony going into the desert or coming out of it was almost universally in need of supplies and a little rest and recuperation. But this was where the stallions knew they needed to be.

Still, they didn’t have to wait all that much longer; that morning, unbeknownst to them, a certain party would soon be emerging from the woods to sidestep the city.

“I still can’t imagine what the fuck could’ve done that to him!” one of the stallions munched on an apple.

The second stallion looked over, “You keep saying that, Typhoon, but… yeah. I almost wish we’d been able to see that, despite the trouble it’s caused… Just to see that…! It’s not like he remembers; he usually blacks out when he gets gem-hungry.”

Typhoon considered, “Well, Thunder, I suppose leaving him to his own devices was a mistake this time… but it’s usually no problem to let him have it out a while, even with all that crystal on the floor; he burns himself out eating and is calm as can be after a bit.”

“Well,” mused the third, a semi-permanent grin plastered on his face. “The beast isn’t something one completely controls…”

“You said it, Lightning,” the apple-munching Typhoon was digging around in their store for another piece of fruit. “Wish we’d just been able to kill that asshole quietly in his bed like we planned. If he’d been sober and stayed put it would’ve saved us the unhinged jaw and the fractured skull… and all this waiting.”

“And the eyeball popping out!” said Lightning. “Shit, I actually thought he might die this time… He’s never been hurt that bad… ever. But he’s healing well; he’ll be back to normal in a few days. There’s nothing on Earth should’ve been able to do that to him… I mean, damn.”

“He’s been doing nothing but sleeping all week,” the fourth scratched himself, complaining of their plight. “I know we need to keep everypony clear of camp and it’s the only way he can heal up, but I wouldn’t mind being able to go into town…”

“Oh, stop your bitching, Frost!” Thunder bitched, shoving him over. “None of us like this lying low crap…”

The first bitcher confronted the second bitcher, “That’s it! I’m kicking your ass!”

“What are you gonna do, freeze my nuts to the ground?!”

Frost threw a hoof, “No, I’ll do it this way!”

The other two stallions rushed in and pulled them apart. Tempers were short for that kind of abruptness, but they’d been hiding in the woods a week with nothing but each other’s faces and the forest to stare at.

“Watch that nonsense,” their leader advised, slumping nearest the tree-line; he was unflapped but tired of the complaining. “You’ve been pissing at each other all week! It went fine; only a few got injured in the collateral and nopony else died that we know about.”

“But the mayor!” Typhoon was working on yet another apple. “Geez-a-ree…! Wind, I know we came out here on this killing, but he wasn’t part of the plan!”

Wind scowled, stretching, “Not this time, you mean… He was just some hebephilliac asshole anyway, and it’s not like he wasn’t on our list… More than one colt of Albin fell prey to his games. It makes me glad I never got that residency here when I was younger; that colts’ school was a bad place… It was convenient to do him sooner than later… I made the call. ‘Two rats with one torch’! Poof! What else happened was unforeseen and unlucky.”

Frost gave a fleeting look of mild contempt, “Unforseen and unlucky? It was a bitch-and-a-half digging him out, much less dragging his carcass back here with nopony seeing!”

But nopony could argue that Melchior wasn’t dead, dead, dead and very likely dancing the two-step in Hell. Nopony really cared beyond the fact he was dead outside of their boredom, grumblings, and heavy lifting they’d had to do.

Melchior had been on their list for many years. The slave-trade, sex-trade, rape, theft, and murder he’d organized in lieu of his more legitimate associations, pawned off on his crew, were hard not to notice to their cause.

The stallions had done one of the two things for which they’d come to “Last Chance”; they’d nearly finished the other but hadn’t quite seen it through. They’d let their quarry reach the city just for the convenience of killing Melchior in close proximity… and for another reason related to their target that might come to fruition very shortly, “might” being the keyword. Even if the fruit didn’t produce they’d still finish the job. The mayor had been a bonus, as a couple of the stallions had half-joked…

Wind perked up, peering up the road, “There they are…”

They saw a group of mares moving closer to them.

“Finally…” the Typhoon breathed.

They were at least satiated, if not quite pleased; soon they’d be able to finish this miserable business.

Lightning did a take; he was an excitable fellow, “Eight?! She picked up another one?!”

Thunder shrugged, “I guess…”

Wind looked towards the figures down the road, “I know they got caught up in the mayoral ball, but who knew they’d hole up in the forest the rest of the week?”

The excitable one chuckled, “After that trouble, I’m sure they weren’t too keen on staying in town. Gotta rest up; it’s a long way through the desert… And the jungle’s not much more pleasant with its hazards.”

“Remember well what we discussed,” Wind tried to relax. “Not a one of those mares is to be underestimated. I don’t know about the new one but any one of the rest of them could give us trouble… We talk, first, and hopefully that can move things along. We don’t want a fight on our hooves if it can be avoided. Nopony do anything rash. Hoods up, boys.”

Voicing ascent they pulled on hoods, stood in the road, and waited for Essenta and her company to come within hailing distance.

Two Weeks Earlier…

Aodh Radulf had lost track of how many days he’d been on the run. It was easy enough to know how many days he’d gone without sleep; the sun had risen and set three times since he’d actually holed up somewhere for a fitful attempt at rest.

He was alone, now, the last stallion of his guild having died about a week earlier. The burns he’d sustained were utterly horrific and it was shocking he’d managed to stay alive as long as he did; the others perished much sooner.

His troubles began about six weeks after he’d notified his old comrade King Ansgar Dale of his specialists’ catastrophic failure in capturing his strong-willed daughter and offing her traveling companions.

Radulf was afraid; he’d only been afraid two times prior in his life.

Born to a 14-year-old prostitute in the “City of Last Chances”, he’d barely acknowledged seeing her die. She was slit open, throat-to-tail, by a few sailors that didn’t want to pay for her services when they’d finished… in her own tent, too, with her son watching through a flap. At 6-years-old, he simply stood up, leaving her as she lay, and went to go find his dinner in an alleyway somewhere.

Soon after, he realized he could hurt ponies with his developing magic. By the age of 8-years, he worked closely with an enforcer for the “Fire Breathers” guild; he never failed in getting answers out of those who crossed them… and none lived, intentionally.

One day, half a lifetime later and on a whim, he blew his boss’s head clean off his body. At the age of 15-years, he’d ascended to the head of the guild and had become the most powerful gangster in “Last Chance” City. He’d learned well, and since he blew the heads off anypony that took issue with his running things, nopony bothered him much.

He formed a close alliance with a young “merchant” named Melchior and the two often exchanged favors, Radulf with his skills and Melchior with his seemingly bottomless resources. In those days the mayor was of the same ilk and they occasionally took in entertainment behind the bookcase in the mayoral study.

About the time he came of age, the city had changed… It had become too clean. Tired of loansharking and carrying out hits, he took his gang that wanted on the road. Gathering the most despicable unicorns he came across, they took up assassination and mercenary work; both paid well enough and there was never any shortage of the dubious pleasures both lines of work could bring in. Despite the distance he and Melchior maintained their relationship. If Melchior wanted somepony dead on the other side of the continent Radulf would see it done and Melchior gladly funded many of their endeavors on top of other things as payment.

In his early twenties, when most stallions were starting families, he was cheerfully undoing life in all shapes, forms, and ages. The “Fire Breathers” had a good thing going. But their first chance to strike rich came along during a brief border war around the Eastern Central Valley. The Dale and its allies were having trouble with a neighbor to the east, acting at the behest of the emperor of Albin in the far eastern continent. This was when he met Ansgar Dale.

The “Fire Breathers” were late in joining the war, the tide having already turned, but the Confederation of the Dale could no longer afford to continue fighting the stubborn king of Joeh despite their overwhelming advantage. Eager to take the job, their orders were simple: convince Joeh to surrender quickly and unconditionally. The rest was up to their own creativity.

The money was nothing to turn away from, but they had another stipulation: Radulf wanted a lordship, with lands. Considering the vacancies brought on by the war, it wasn’t an unreasonable thing. It was promised to him… he could adopt a new name and settle down with the fortune they’d make.

For the first time in Radulf’s entire life, something truly unsettled him. He wasn’t sure at first what it was and wouldn’t realize it for some time, but he knew he was… disconcerted. Ansgar Dale, the young king, volunteered to lead the excursion with 30 of his own soldiers; there was something strange about the stallion… He was an Earth pony… not too bright… not clever… too determined for his own good, or anypony else’s, for that matter… But for the first time in many years, Radulf was compelled to show his true face to somepony without killing them afterwards… this pony was Ansgar Dale.

After systematically burning their way through a few towns in western Joeh, Radulf learned what fear was. He experienced it himself in the last town they razed. An Earth pony stallion, just some small-time farmer living nearby, had angered Ansgar Dale; Radulf couldn’t even remember what it was about off the top of his head.

What Ansgar Dale did to that stallion’s wife and little filly scared him. It wasn’t so much what he’d done, either; it was pretty heinous but years of blood, guts, and all that came with had him hardened… not that there was much softness to begin with. He would laugh in his friend’s face about it for years to come but he wasn’t laughing on the inside. It would be years later, living as Lord Phokas and overseeing his orchards, when he realized what was so terrifying about Ansgar Dale.

Ansgar Dale was nothing… truly nothing special… He was stupid and petty. He was a bumbling fool, really. But when the mood caught him just right, his ruthlessness was unlike anything he’d ever imagined… and he could imagine vibrantly. The young king was capable of anything. It was… like a force of nature caught up somewhere it shouldn’t be… somewhere unnatural.

Radulf knew all 30 Dale stallions Ansgar Dale took on their little escapade deserted him, left the Dale, or committed suicide afterwards, and that was something even he himself had never inspired in his own stallions.

Things almost fell apart when the “Fire Breathers” made a side trip to a town called Oswald, but in the end, it was little more than a pebble in the road as far as their journey of misdeeds went. It was suspected a mercenary group hired by the Confederation had destroyed a town under its protection, so many were more than hesitant to pay what was promised. Nopony knew what group it was, as nopony had apparently survived the destruction of Oswald.

True to his word, despite others in the Confederation trying to cheat Radulf and his followers of the promised rewards, Ansgar Dale gave over- from his own personal coffers- the gold on top of a nice, little corner of the world and a lordship. The king didn’t care much about Oswald; it wasn’t his business, really. Radulf was as grateful for this as he was capable of; Ansgar Dale was the only king to keep his word.

For a decade, Radulf enjoyed himself more than he’d expected. He merely tolerated his “subjects” but relished the orchards. His guild occasionally cut loose for jobs and for fun. He and his stallions enjoyed their secret harem, made up of the orphan fillies and surviving mares of some of the “cutting loose”. Melchior still called for somepony’s head on a platter occasionally and he made no small contribution to their coffers and stable of mares, happily supplying the “Fire Breathers” with the very best fillies unfortunate enough to become involved with the dark side of “Last Chance” City.

It was a delight when Ansgar Dale had contacted him with the job of retrieving his eldest daughter. Showing his remarkably well-developed inconsistency of character, he fumbled through before finally deciding everypony in the group but his daughter had to die. Radulf had never repaid the debt owed Ansgar Dale, so he did it as a favor.

He should’ve better remembered the name “Argon”, but he’d tried and failed in many things. Plus, many families of mages adopted the names of the “Noble Elements”; Radulf could name three families calling themselves “Xenon”, and he’d killed off one of them. The Fire Diamond was merely another trinket to him… though a possibly powerful one he didn’t manage to get; its lost potential was of little standing in the grand scheme of things.

What they’d done in Oswald was a routine thing. When a stallion kills and sets alight towns as easily as blowing his nose, he might not be blamed for failing to remember everything he ever did. He’d never really believed the gem to be all that powerful, anyway… that Tatius Argon had been deceiving him. He’d also never planned to give Tatius Argon a thing in exchange; he’d likely have wound up killing him anyway upon transferring the Fire Diamond to his niece if he survived the operation to begin with.

This led to the second time Radulf knew fear: he saw the Argon family crest burned into the boulder, below a message promising death to the “Fire Breathers” at the campsite in which the Princess and her friends had taken up. The threat in and of itself didn’t scare him. He could sense the Fire Diamond; it left unmistakable traces. Radulf knew the “feel” of the diamond well, spending time with and hoping to pry it out of and/or away from the fool Tatius Argon. And this magic wasn’t of the fool who’d tried to sell out his niece; it was phenomenally more powerful. The pieces of his best agents stacked in the firepit didn’t help his dread much, either.

Radulf had never learned what happened to Tatius Argon or his little niece; he’d assumed they’d died and gave little more thought to it. But niece and nephew found the old doctor; the surgery was successful, at least for the filly.

Zyra Argon was alive… she somehow knew the “Fire Breathers” destroyed Oswald- and she probably knew they killed her family… and she knew who tried to kill the little traveling company. Given the “Fire Breathers” were known to serve the Confederation, specifically the Dale and its king, it didn’t take a genius to figure out Ansgar Dale likely sent the “Fire Breathers” after his own daughter.

Radulf was at this point still reasonably sure he was safe; nopony outside his guild knew who he was. “Aodh Radulf” had disappeared from the world. To his subjects and the world, he was Lord Phokas, a modest fruit grower. But somepony must’ve had an inkling, because six weeks after severing ties with Ansgar Dale for good five robed unicorn stallions with a dragon came through on an otherwise normal day and killed most of the guild.

Miraculously not destroying any of his land or harming any of his subjects, the attackers freed his sex-slaves and revealed to everypony just who had been lording over them the last 10 years.

Evading the burns that wound up killing the last of his followers, Radulf knew fear a third time; he’d been feeling it since escaping with his life and not much else. It was lost to him how he’d managed to stay ahead of his pursuers… They had a dragon. But choosing to not question why, he kept moving. In the open steppe, he felt quite exposed; finding him would be easy if they managed to catch up.

Running, running, running… He was exhausted. But he was within reach of his goal. Beginning to climb the southern mountains, he knew his destination was only another couple of days away. Driven by fear, adrenaline, and the promise of safety, he kept going. There, he could hide… change his face… change his name… and go back to doing the same things upon which he’d cut his teeth. He was going back home, to where it all began. Nopony would even know he was there…

Author's Note

Check out the Appendix for Princess Essenta, updated as the story moves along. It shows the story's timeline and character designs. Contains spoilers.

The journey resumes only to be interrupted. This wouldn't be the case but I wanted to divide a chapter. Some things will tie up convincingly next time.

I trust some of you will enjoy it.

If you enjoy Princess Essenta, please take a look at Larkspur Blossom. A story of a colt finding his worth and making a better life for himself.

Also look for The Virgin Company. A tale of a military pony and his platoon in a war centuries ago.

Like, follow, or leave a comment if you please. It's been fun writing and I'm glad some enjoy it.

Thanks for reading, and take care.

Chapter 53: The Hearts of Maidens, Part One

Antecedence Arc

“You’re first, cripple,” Cassia aimed her horn at Orni.

Delia was fuming but unable to see, “DAMN IT!”

Essenta could see and cried out, “No! Please!”

Cassia paid them no mind and set Orni to sleep.

It didn’t surprise Cassia that a Knollwing Pegasus might have the presence of mind to conjure up a corporeal mindscape, but she’d still never seen the phenomenon in one. And she’d met some Knollwings, having lived through years of pony-trafficking.

But she’d realized pretty quickly Orni wasn’t normal as far as Knollwings went. All the poor Knollwing fillies she’d seen sold at the end of a chain had the characteristic wings of gray but lacked all the other traits of their legendary magic.

Orni, though, stood before her as a child, wings white as snow. Around them was a lovely meadow, in full bloom.

Cassia looked down at herself and admired her own body; she was young and beautiful once more. Then she looked at Orni again.

“My, my, my… look at those wings…” Cassia had seen many things in her life, but she’d never seen a true Knollwing… not that a true Knollwing had to have wings of white; it simply measured up to the vision of one.

For as frightened as Orni had been prior to the invasion, she was currently calmer and more relaxed; it was her realm, after all, “Cassia… that was a little more abrupt than I remember.”

Cassia hadn’t expected Orni to say such a thing but knew where it came from; she’d just referenced it a moment before knocking Orni out, “I don’t have the luxury of time as Noach did; no lulling you into some brief trance. Though the passage of time is of little concern in here.”

Orni cocked her head, looking sorry, “So… this is it, then.”

“It is,” Cassia sighed. “In a few seconds—in the waking world—I’ll be out of your head and on my way to another’s… And when you wake later, I’ll be… Yes, this is it.”

But the old mare felt good. In Orni’s mind she was free of her recent hurts and the burden of age… She was able to step back and see it all… her life… and she felt at more at peace with it than she had in years… other than the hatred burning in her heart and mind she’d refined over the last two days.

Orni picked up on some of this, “Yes… It is blissful. But I cannot help but feel sad in this form.”

Cassia again considered her own youthful body, “It does bring up some very painful things.”

“Yes… You know Noach?”

Cassia nodded, “I know him… We masters of ‘head-magic’ aren’t a large circle… Though he wasn’t that skilled—at all—in the area, I also knew Tatius Argon… before he disappeared, and his home was destroyed. Tell me… is Zyra of the Argon family?”

Orni recalled what Zyra and Ama had told them; she hated to say it but there was little point in hiding it, “Tatius Argon was her paternal uncle… Nestor was her father.”

The old mare’s eyes widened slightly at this, her eyebrows rising, “I see… They were rather lackluster mages, the both of them… If Tatius had his brother’s morals, though… he might’ve been worth something…”

Orni watched the psychic meander through the vegetation.

“Can the other girls manifest a mindscape such as this? Can Zyra? Not that you might know…” Cassia couldn’t help but stare at everything; it was unusually vibrant, and she’d never seen such a place outside of the mind of an unusually powerful unicorn.

Orni was capable of texture.

Orni shrugged, “I think Noach said Loress can… and I know Zyra can.

Taking in all the information she felt in and around them, Cassia mused, “Yes… There’s something more behind that statement, isn’t there? Your mage…”

Cassia didn’t know everything, Orni comprehended. It was unlikely she knew the truth about Oswald… or a lot of things regarding Zyra.

“You’re not getting it from me…” Orni stated crossly, feeling some fear; Cassia still had the power in the situation.

Cassia smirked at the young one’s anger, “Maybe so. But I’ll find out soon enough, whether you wish it or not.”

“What do you want?” Orni was tired of kicking the can.

Cassia looked about, thinking aloud, “I can understand a mage having the brain for it, but that needy Terran? Wonders never cease.”

Orni didn’t ask again; she knew Cassia had heard. Her eyes followed the gorgeous mare as she paddled through a patch of wildflowers, enjoying the scent.

“You truly have a wonderous mind, Orni Valkea—Orni the White… Orni an Geal… Is this your home?”

Orni—a little taken aback to hear her name in her native-tongue—considered their surroundings, “You should know the answer; there’s not much you can’t see in here.”

“I don’t try to see everything, child, as you well realize… Answer me.”

“I don’t remember much about my true home; I was too young,” Orni said. “This was my favorite place my kinfolk and I traveled through… and we saw many places.”

Cassia sniffed a hyssop stalk, “You can even conjure the smell… Heavenly… Not more than a few ponies in a hundred can pull that off. If your mage is able to do so, I’d be twice delighted. Perhaps I will be; I’m a little more adept at working with such things than Noach—even in a good mind, he struggled with the details…”

Orni continued to watch.

“My own home resembled this,” Cassia stood forlornly, turning back to Orni.

And Orni still waited for her question to be answered.

But Cassia hadn’t forgotten, “What I want…”

Orni felt a chill; she couldn’t help but back away, sensing venom in the air.

Cassia knew Orni wasn’t as composed as she was posturing; she’d seen it and knew it to begin with, “I want to know what kind of mares fell out of the sky and set my twilight years ablaze!”

Orni felt her heart constrict—as well as the rest of her body—as Cassia pulled them to another place. The little mare saw a city from ground-level, its streets aflame, its ponies panicking.

Orni jumped as a blistered burn-victim went screaming by, shouting without thinking, “What is this?!”

But she deduced what it was; it was what her friends had left behind… Nuinhof.

“You may be a naïve little filly, but I see you’re not stupid. This is indeed Nuinhof—not that it’s that hard to reason it.”

Orni could smell it… Turning around, she let out a cry of terror; a little foal was writhing in a puddle of smoldering oil and mud. Orni realized the little one was screaming… but making no sound; the foal’s airway was already cooked.

The young mare screamed bloody-murder and tried to run the other way, only to encounter similar atrocity. The smell of burning hair and flesh came stronger in her nostrils.

Orni freaked, seeing her third direction of choice was no better than anything else had been.

Cassia looked on somewhat stoically; she’d just been there, “That’s enough of that.”

In a flash, they were back in the meadow. Orni fell to her face, gasping and sobbing.

“Yes, Orni,” standing behind the tearful Knollwing, Cassia sneered. “I already know Delia’s rotten… I just want to see what the rest of you are made of. I see you’re not quite as ‘together’ as you tried showing me… but still, that was quite a thing to see… and you are young.”

Orni’s breath caught; she slowly turned to Cassia, “…What did you say?”

Cassia knew Orni wasn’t wondering about her comment on the Knollwing’s condition, “What you just saw is just a glimpse of the disaster that whore set upon my city yesterday.”

Orni felt a burning in her lower trunk; her very guts revolted at what Cassia had said, “Don’t you dare say that about Delia…!”

Cassia looked incredulous, “Do you know what you’re saying, kid?”

“Delia’s not rotten!” Orni burst. “If it wasn’t for her, most of us would be dead!”

“What do you know, child?” Cassia leered. “You weren’t there.”

“I know enough!” Orni was tearing up. “I know that filly was still alive! I know Dechaa dragged them all back there again! And I know the townsponies were ready to kill them all! Delia didn’t let that happen!”

“You know nothing, you little twat…!” Cassia was so angry her eyes were watering. “You know what she did?!”

Orni’s stomach twisted; she gulped, “I know that-”

“You know nothing!” Cassia roared, spittle flying at Orni’s face. “She murdered more ponies than you can imagine! The body-count is at 217 and rising…They told you nothing! Do you want to know what happened?”

In her heart Orni didn’t; she had been trying to push the thoughts from her mind for more than a day, “…”

Cassia looked down to the smaller mare, “She used their magic… Dechaa’s and Zyra’s…”

Orni backed up, “No… that’s not possible.”

The young one had never heard of such a thing.

“Oh, it’s possible…”

The words came without Orni wishing them, “How…?”

Cassia shook her head, “I don’t know, certainly… I didn’t ask her, and I didn’t ‘look’.”

Orni gulped.

Cassia paced around Orni, “Oh, child… they didn’t tell you because they didn’t think you could handle it…”

Orni shut her eyes; she wanted this to be over, but she had little power.

“One of the two weak links in the chain…” Cassia grinned viciously. “Such a young one… They don’t trust you.”

Orni felt a switch go off in her head… What?

Cassia gloated, “Oh, how it must feel-”

“Fuck you!” Orni blurted.

Cassia jumped a little; she hadn’t felt any kind of premonition regarding Orni’s manner.

“Fuck you!” Orni repeated; she lowered her own gaze. “I know what you’re up to… It’s you that doesn’t understand!”

Cassia frowned.

Orni scowled, “You miserable, old nag…! Is that what all this is about?! It’s not Delia’s or our fault this war has befallen all of you! Don’t blame us for the sickness in your country! And I know I’m weak…! I know I’m a child! There’s nothing I can do about what happened and they were good enough to spare me from it! They know me and I know them! And that's more than can be said about you!”

“…”

A sob made its way past Orni’s throat, “I… know you’re not lying… at least about the death and destruction… And I’m sorry! I can’t imagine how much you’re hurting…! I truly can’t…”

Cassia knew she couldn’t win, “…”

“Still… I… Try as you might, you won’t tear us apart!” Orni shouted. “They’ll be able to see past this…”

Cassia considered the little Knollwing. She’d never seen such resolve in a child; it could be felt.

Cassia took a few seconds; she relented, “Perhaps there’s more to you than I thought…”

Orni was breathing hard, she’d worked herself up so, “Yes… perhaps there is.”

The older mare glared and Orni could feel her eyes examining her, “You’ve had a real hit-and-miss sort of life, haven’t you…?”

Orni winced under the mental probing; it felt as if her mind was being tugged at.

“But for what it’s worth you’ve had a rather good one…” Cassia turned and paddled away. “It’s a wonder your heart is as clean as it is… I won’t apologize for what I’ve said or done but… I’m… glad you made a friend in Wilka. I’m curious to learn more.”

Orni felt Cassia “let go” of her mind; she exhaled in relief.

Cassia chuckled, “And to think I was going to go after the princess first… I have nothing else I want to say to you…”

The psychic felt they were done… but the Knollwing’s mind wasn’t such a simple place; she couldn’t predict much, as she’d learned.

Orni gulped again, “There’s one thing.”

“What?” Cassia turned back and saw Orni staring at the ground.

“Leave Wilka alone.”

Cassia's response was immediate, “I can’t do that.”

“I’m begging you…”

Cassia saw Orni looking defeated, all her assurance gone. Orni was begging.

“I won’t harm her.”

Orni hung her head miserably.

Cassia knew how petty this was… but she didn’t care… and she wouldn’t give up, “You’ll wake up a bit later, Orni.”

With that, Cassia left Orni’s mindscape.

“Shit…!” Delia wriggled and saw from her newest angle in the bubble that Orni had clocked out.

Essenta saw it from a more familiar standpoint, being upright, “Orni…!”

Cassia didn’t let Orni’s head hit the ground, but the fall wasn’t exactly gentle; she spoke to nopony in particular, “My, what a mind your Orni has… She’s not as weak as I’d been led to believe…”

Essenta cried, “What did you do?!”

Cassia thought for a couple seconds; she wasn’t about to admit Orni had a will of iron and had resisted her so.

“Orni’s fine,” Cassia said, her back to them. “Don’t worry.”

Delia was feeling an awful lot of blood rush to her head, “…!”

The elderly mare turned to the entrapped mares, a nasty smile turning up the corners of her sad, wizened face, “Yes… Be good girls and stay there…”

Essenta fretted; Delia scowled.

“Oh, don’t worry… I’m not hurting a one of them…” Cassia said.

Slowly tottering over to Dechaa, Cassia looked down at her, “To think this uneasy apothecary had such obscene power… not that I blame her for what happened. You killed all those ponies, Delia; it just happened to be with her magic.”

Cassia turned to Delia; Delia’s expression dripped hatred.

“Now…” Cassia returned to the healer. “Let’s see what Dechaa’s mind holds.”

Author's Note

Check out the Appendix for Princess Essenta, updated as the story moves along. It shows the story's timeline and character designs. Contains spoilers.

Sorry for the delay. Lots of snow to move, lots of lab-work, and I've been doing some rewriting.

With Delia having "spoken" personally with Orni, she moves on to the rest. What will she find in their minds? And what will happen to Delia?

Find out soon.

If you enjoy Princess Essenta, please take a look at Larkspur Blossom. A story of a colt finding his worth and making a better life for himself.

Also, look for The Virgin Company. A tale of a military pony and his platoon in a war centuries ago.

And if you're up for something less tasteful, check out my one-shot.

Like, follow, or leave a comment if you please. It's been fun writing and I'm glad some enjoy it.

Thanks for reading, and take care.