Point of the Rose: NorthView OnlinePoints of the RosePoint of the Rose: NorthShe awoke screaming. Hooves restrained her as she fought against invisible attackers, A voice close by spoke softly and calm washed over her. There was softness beneath her and she could feel a gentle but firm weight above her. The voice spoke, and told her of how she came to this place. It told her that her sight would adjust in time, allowing her to see the wonders of their world. The mare relaxed as the voice spoke in it's calm authoritative tones. She felt the words wash over her tension eased from her frame and after a time, fell into a deep and dreamless sleep. She awoke slowly. Her eyes opened, soft lights bloomed overhead and she again shut them. A voice, unlike the first was near her, It spoke in slow but demanding tones, she understood but could do naught but shake or nod her head to the questions. After a time the voice departed, and the mare once again opened her eyes. She lay, in a bare white room on a bed which was far more utilitarian than comfortable. The light above, while still somewhat painful allowed her to make out the bare walls and large mirror set into the walls on one side of the room. For a time the mare sat in the bed, merely staring at the walls. Finally, feeling as if she had the strength to move, she pulled off the heavy blanket and clumsily, like a foal, finally stood. At first she marveled at how far the floor was from her position, much higher than the edge of the bed. She took a tentative step, nearly falling she threw out a steadying hoof on the nightstand. She righted herself and began the slow walk to the mirror, her steps clumsy but gaining strength. At the mirror she simply stood, and looked at her reflection. Taking in the length of her legs, the long unkempt mane and tail a brilliant gold, her coat the color of the midday sun, her eyes a deep ruby and finally, the short horn which stuck up from her forehead, and the wings, bound to her sides with a length of cloth. It was some time, as the mare stood and looked at her visage before someone came to intrude on her solitude. The door opened and a unicorn stallion in a white labcoat stood in the doorway a clipboard held in his magic, and behind him a small number of armored ponies, who followed the stallion into the room. The ponies in their hardened cloth uniforms set up a small table, and a pair of chairs. The mare bristled at the intrusion into her personal sanctum but the stallion spoke a few kind words and offered her a seat at the small table. The mare, having no recourse but to take him up on his offer did so. The pair sat, and the stallion spoke, the mare after a few failed attempts at verbal communication decided instead to continue with the nods or shakes of her head. Time passed slowly in the little room, which the mare learned was part of a larger complex. She learned a little of who she was and where she had come from, and the stallion provided all the information she needed. After a time, the stallion announced that the mare looked tired and she should rest that their conversation would continue the next day. And so it did, for days and weeks on end. The mare found her voice, a harsh grinding sound which filled the space and made those who heard it, quiver. But the stallion was always there, always willing to help her. During the conversations the mare learned of her magic. The stallion brought games for her to practice it on and so she practiced. Her magic was clumsy, and no matter how much she practiced, it seemed all she could do was move heavier and heavier objects. Finally ending with the bed before the stallion concluded her magic was fit less for fine tasks and more for brute strength. It was some time until the cloth came off and she was allowed to test her wings. Shortly after the cloth came off she was allowed to leave the room, the first time she ever had. She saw more of the armored ponies, taking note of the color of their dark uniforms, a silver 42, on each collar and short blades hidden beneath long jackets. She was led to a large hall where a pegasus mare waited, the pegasus wore a simple grey uniform and explained that she would be teaching her to fly. Flying, the mare had tried to in her small room with little success. Even a few beats of her mighty wings only served to blow over the small chairs where she and the stallion had daily conversations. The pegasus taught her of flight, of how to rise and dive, to evade and after a time attempted to show her how to invoke the ability to gather water from the air to produce clouds. The mare's efforts with clouds were lackluster at best, but her strong wings allowed her to fly fast and true. to move with purpose. Weeks passed in a similar fashion, and the mare met more and more ponies. Those to teach her about history, the world and where she fit within it. There were ponies to teach her of the sciences, mathematics, spoken and written words, diplomacy, and finally of how to protect herself and others. It was in this way that the mare grew and learned, she had heard some of her mentors mention a name. Something she had not yet acquired, and one day as she sat through another boring lesson on law she asked quite unexpectedly what she should be called. The instructor, an aged and round stallion with a portent for rambling sputtered profusely and excused himself from the room. As it was the mare sat and pondered the meaning of the question, until finally the stallion who she had first met entered and took a seat next to her. Finally, she spoke but a single word. "North". And the stallion nodded, and so it was her name became North. For it was in one of their earliest conversations that the stallion had explained that she was found west of Equestria, north of the Zihara which was explained to her as a ocean of sand, deep in the griffon territories. The name stuck, and after weeks of training and learning it was announced the she was being moved. She packed her few meager things, each a small token from her instructors and loaded them into her personal saddlebags. She was given heavy winter gear and after donning it she was lead from her room, past ponies packing the last of the supplies and gear into crates and finally to a large staircase. She walked up the staircase, leaving the underground section of the complex and into the biting cold. She marveled at the sky, the clouds above swirled and snowflakes danced lazily on the wind, but what caught her attention the most was the cruiser sized airship floating above the complex. It was a beautiful ship, painted in whites and golds with a wide hull and ships prow read "Brightwood", it spoke in silent words of the power contained within. Off in the distance she spotted two smaller ships, they appeared to be patrolling the mouth of the hidden valley where the complex sat. She was escorted to a small elevator hoisted between two ropes from the deck of the Brightwood. As she was brought up to the deck she again looked down, at the small complex which she had learned and grew in, and felt a pang of sadness at the thought of leaving it behind. In the following few days she was introduced to the captain, the deck hands and others aboard the ship. Along with the contingent of dark uniformed ponies who she had first seen many months previously. She learned they were called "The 42'nd Lunar Legion" and it was a group under their banner who had first found her in the complex. The trip took them down out of the deep mountains and into smaller foot hills before depositing them over a large ocean of sand, stretching away as far as the eye could see. She learned that the ship was on a course to Canterlot, seat of power in Equestria and that it was there that she would complete her training. When she asked the captain why they had to travel so far he made a pointed cough and ignored the question. It was during one of her long walks around the deck, that she learned of the existence of The Fallen Sun. A pony, angry that his brother had become enslaved by the group was talking a little too eagerly with a fellow deckhand when she overheard. She had stopped behind a few crates to look out at the glittering sand but remained to listen to the ponies tale. He told the other of how his brother had been taken on a supply run along with his only possessions, a worn cart and the clothes on his back. She listened to the tale and the horrors that the pony thought The Fallen Sun must be inflicting on his brother, before stepping out from behind the boxes. She asked calmly what could be done to help. The deckhand telling the story, to his credit, only smacked into one crate while attempting to escape. The other deckhand attempted to flee in the same manner was stopped by a word from the mare. She asked this trembling pony what could be done and the pony could only sputter out a few words about not talking to "The Alicorn" before she sighed and released him. Determined to know what the pony had meant she went to her friend, the stallion in the labcoat. He at first deflected the questions but finally relented after continued persistent questions. He told her the story as he knew it. That the group was some type of ancient cult, determined to remove a race of ponies known as "Selenicans" from the world. Supposedly they had originally come from the moon, and had once lived along the Zihara. The Zihara was the area they now traveled over but what was once a beautiful ocean known as "The Silver Sea". It was unclear exactly what happened, but at some point a great catastrophe destroyed the Selenicans and the ocean where they made their home. This left the Zihara as the only remnant of the Selenicans passing. She then asked about The Fallen Sun and why they would of enslaved one of the deckhands brothers, it was at that when the stallion grew quiet and told her he could answer no further questions. Despite her pleas he refused, leaving her in her cabin to think over the story and what it meant. She decided she didn't like The Fallen Sun much and decided she wouldn't allow anyone else to be taken by them. It was only a day later when the ground turned from the endless dunes to fields of short and tall grasses. It was then when the captain announced they were over Equestria. The ship passed over fields of flowers and lakes so still they looked like little mirrors dotting the landscape. Finally they began to see small towns, where other ponies worked and played in the sunshine. During the night some of the towns were brightly lit, and a few had decorations. When she asked about these the stallion in the labcoat only replied that they were harvest festivals. Finally, in the distance. A small mountain range jutted up from the fertile valleys beneath them, and upon the tallest mountainside sat a city. It was a beautiful city with jutting spires and a massive castle overlooking it all. She breathed the word as soon as she could see it with some detail, "Canterlot". It took no time at all for the ship to reach the city, but before they reached it the stallion in the labcoat asked her to meet with him. When she did he produced a large, finely made cloak of white and grey and requested she wear it. When she asked why he only said that her presence may cause ponies undue stress. When she pushed him on the issue he reiterated the point and allowed her to don the cape. She had already previously secured her saddlebags with her few treasures and that made the cloak a little bulky upon her already large frame. The Brightwood arrived at Canterlots docks with little fanfare, to those working the docks it was simply another ship with more cargo. To her it had been a constant source of learning and wonder. When she departed the ship she was escorted by a retinue of four other cloaked ponies, all wearing the same garment as her. Despite her height advantage over the other ponies they all managed to project an air of confidence of their charge. At the end of the ramp was a cart, the door already open and a pony in a suit waiting. Two of the cloaked ponies joined her in the cabin, while the other two took up positions in the coach and rear of the cart. The stallion in the labcoat followed them in and closed the door. Despite the cramped conditions and drawn curtains the cart ride was pleasantly short. The cart deposited them in an underground garage beneath the castle, where the cloaked ponies once again took up retaining positions and the stallion in the labcoat stood just to her right. After a moment another suited pony opened a door set into the far wall and beckoned them all inside. The group moved with purpose to the door and followed the suited pony through the ancient but well maintained castle. They saw no others on the way to a private wing, where she was given her own room. After a quick glance inside she concluded it was slightly roomier than her cabin on the Brightwood. The cloaked ponies had dispersed by this point and she was left with only the stallion in the labcoat, who said simply that these were her quarters. She was allowed to roam in this specific wing of the castle but was not to go anywhere else for the time being. She agreed to these terms and decided it might be best to take a nap. She removed her cloak, hanging it on a peg at the door before stripping off her saddle bags and placing her few mementos on a provided writing desk. Finally, she closed her eyes and slept. A light sleep, where images and fragments invaded her mind. Images of swords, and ponies and half remembered terrors from the histories she had been taught. She sorted through the dream, and organized the pieces as best she could. But the chaos of it eluded her and the more she struggled to sort it the more it came apart. She awoke sometime early in the morning, the blankets on her bed wrapped tightly around her midsection. She was able to quickly untangle herself and took stock of the room once again. Bookshelf, writing desk, bed with stacked pillows, a closet and small bathroom, everything she assumed to have a comfortable existence. She stood and gathered a robe and slippers from her closet before heading out to find some breakfast. She toured the wing of the castle and nodded to the golden armored ponies who watched over the wing, having picked up the habit from her flight instructor, they always saluted back. She noted on her travels that there were four rooms almost identical to hers and along with the guardposts at either end of the wing, a number of patrols. After coming across a living area, a lecture hall, a set of showers, a small barracks with sleeping guardsponies inside, a library and a tower with a locked door, she finally located the small dining hall. It was laid out with three long tables taking up most of the central floor and one shorter table at the head of the room. A kitchen was situated on the right side, hidden by a solid wall and only a small window and pair of doors to mark it's presence. She walked to the kitchen and knocked the door open with a hoof. A cook kneading bread looked up in shock, but she simply smiled and asked where she might find some food. The cook, taken aback at the suggestion that she feed herself quickly shooed her out with the promise that she would have food fit for royalty in just a few minutes. And so with that, she sat at one of the long tables and played idly with her hooves until the cook brought out a steaming bowl of something hot before performing an all to low bow, before scuttling back to the kitchen. She watched the mare go before taking a look down at the thick soup, she decided the easiest way to drink it would be with her hooves. So she lifted the bowl to her lips with her hooves and with little ceremony drained the bowl in three long sips. She spied the cook over the edge of the bowl, who was at that moment watching her overtly from the small window. The cook quickly ducked back out of sight, to prepare additional soup she supposed. She snorted slightly in mirth and went over to let the cook know the food was delicious and she would be back later. The cook to her credit appeared relieved, nodded enthusiastically and informed her that she was always welcome in the kitchens. With that, She continued her journey across the sleeping wing of the castle. Her ears caught the sound of wood on wood and steel upon steel. She searched about for the sound and located the source of the noise in a smaller room just off the guards barracks. A small circle of combatants had formed in the room, guardsponies wearing padded gear and sparing with various blunted weapons. The group stopped immediately when they saw her but she simply waved a hoof for them to continue and after a few minutes of tentative sparring, the combatants again relaxed and began in earnest. She continued to watch for a time, before requesting a turn. The guardsponies looked taken aback but their captain agreed and allowed her to select a wooden weapon and the largest sparring gear they had. The rest of the morning quickly dissolved into the rest of the day as she sparred with each of the guardsponies in turn. Her very basic defensive training just barely standing up to the simple jabs and swipes of the guardsponies. Finally the captain stepped in and began running through the basics with her, and although her coordination could use some work she made up for it in spirit. By the time she was finished the guard shift had already rotated and only the captain had stayed to continue her training. It was there, long after sunset the stallion in the labcoat found her. Now wearing a more suitable set of clothing for the environment, with a cardigan and shirt with tie under the labcoat. North thought he looked a bit silly, but kept that to herself as he berated the captain for letting her train with the guard. She stepped in after a few moments however and explained that it had been her idea from the start. This seemed to pacify the stallion in the labcoat and they began to walk out together. She remembered at that time that she still wore the sparring gear and made a move to remove it, but the captain stopped her with a wave of the hoof and explained she was welcome to keep it. This clearly drew the ire from the stallion in the labcoat but he did not continue his tirade. The pair then continued on to the dining hall, which was now full of ponies in various garbs in the process of eating and chatting. She saw maids, guards, ponies in suits and others which she couldn't begin to imagine what they did. The stallion in the labcoat led her over to the short table at the head of the hall and pulled out a chair. She stared at it for a moment and then asked him if he intended she sit there. When he agreed she shrugged and sat at it, still wearing her oversized sparring gear. A cook came from the kitchen with several large salad bowls teetered precariously on his back. He took his time setting the large bowls in front of her, making sure they were just right. When she asked the stallion in the labcoat why she received larger portions of food than the others he explained it was necessary for her due to her increased size. She listened intently but only ate a portion which appeared consistent with the others in the hall. She brushed off the stallion in the labcoat when he argued against her bringing her own bowls back, and did so anyway. It was however lost on her that all eyes in the hall were on her when she did so. She set her bowls on the kitchen's small window and with a thanks to the cook she quickly retired to her room for the night. When she got to her room she stripped off the sparring gear, hanging it on an armor rack that hadn't previously been in the room. She noted with pride how even just the simple garment looked on the rack and wondered for the first time what her own set of armor might look like. Finally, she took a quick shower to scrub the sweat from her coat before deciding to retire. The room was quiet and mild so she simply lay beneath the loose sheet and stared at the ceiling, until sleep finally claimed her. The next morning she felt refreshed and as she gathered her sparring gear she noticed with some surprise that it had been cleaned. She quickly donned her gear and headed out to the kitchen to get a quick bite to eat. As she passed the library she spotted something strange from the corner of her eye, she stopped and backtracked. As she looked into the library she noticed a wall of pillows that had been erected overnight, it's height cast a shadow stretching the length of the room. As she stepped inside she could hear someone humming, as she neared the pillows she could tell the sound was coming from someone sitting behind it. As she peaked around the corner of the pillows she came face to face with another mare, who promptly squeaked in panic and fainted. She was taken aback by the reaction but came fully around the wall of pillows and studied the mare beneath her. The mare lay under a soft blanket but if she had to guess, the mare was, give or take a few hooves, the same height as herself. The mares mane was a short cropped pale blue and a horn longer than hers peaked out from under it. The mares coat similarly was of a soft pink, nearly white in the darkness of the library. The mares face was serene, a picture of calm despite the fainting episode. A pair of golden glasses graced the mares face, the wire rims knocked askew. She sat on her hooves and attempted to rouse the startled mare and gently prodded her with a hoof. The mare stirred and blinked, her eyes a deep emerald. She asked the mare as gently as she could if she needed anything after her episode. The mare, unaccustomed to her rough voice flinched slightly and shook her head. She prodded a little more, as she asked pointedly what she was doing in the library. The mare looked down at a book, previously hidden by the blanket and readjusted her glasses before telling her that she wished to be left alone. The mares voice, soft and sweet like fields of golden wheat on a midsummer's afternoon wrapped it's way around her ears. She nodded again, and turned to leave when the mare stuck out a hoof, halting her. She turned back but the mare was transfixed, her eyes darted back and forth between her horn and wings. The mare questioned her, asking if she had always had both the horn and wings. She affirmed this and the mare suddenly far more interested in her than her own book, stood. The blanket slid from her form to reveal that she too, had wings albeit quite a bit smaller than her own oversized assets. She, for her part gaped for only a moment before she snapped her jaw shut. The mare walked to her right, and gingerly avoided her open book and a cup of something steaming which she had previously failed to notice. The mare examined her from the side and then smiled and asked what her name was. She, requested the same in turn and the pair came to a silent agreement. "North." She said. "South." Said the mare. North stared at the mare for a moment, her ruby eyes never wavering. South stared back, her emerald eyes becoming misty behind the askew wire rims. North made the first move and embraced South, her padded gear made the closeness awkward. South made a hiccuping sound and embraced her back as tears sprung to her eyes. The two held each other for a time and North felt large wet droplets on the back of her neck, as South was wracked with silent sobs. After an eternity in embrace, South quieted and North gently released her. South mumbled softly, a few words of thanks to the mare for the comfort. North only smiled in response and pulled the slender mare into another tight but brief hug. South made a soft sound but accepted the kind gesture before pulling away once again. North gestured to the door and asked South if she might accompany her to breakfast. South agreed and pushed her glasses back into place before following the retreating North to the door. North stopped at the door and opened it, allowing South to leave first. North surveyed the library for a moment, savoring the feeling of warmth and comfort she had just experienced and shared a small secret smile with herself as she closed the door. E.P1.
Point of the Rose: SouthView OnlinePoints of the RosePoint of the Rose: SouthShe awoke in fear. She tried to breath and retched; something was stuck in her throat. She was cold, wet, submerged. She opened her eyes and weak green light assaulted them through swirling gel. Shapes moved out past the edges of her vision. She tried to move a hoof, to find a way out, to escape, and as she did so, she could feel herself slipping back into the dreamless sleep. She awoke in silence. Cold, wet, but no longer submerged. Her eyes sprung open, a blurry reflection greeted her. She weakly touched her horn to the blurred reflection which promptly shattered outwards. She lay there for a moment before realizing she needed air, her hooves shot to her mouth and found purchase on an object there. With some pain and retching as she did so she pulled a long tube from her throat and dropped it. it made a sickening sound as it hit the floor. The mare climbed to her hooves shakily and looked out from the destroyed tank, sides heaving with the effort of her breath. Dim white lights flickered overhead lights overhead, illuminating the surrounding area. The word antiseptic sprang to her mind but she quickly pushed the thought away. She climbed gingerly out of the destroyed tank taking care not to step on any of the glass before looking around. The room was large, with a domed ceiling and two levels of walkways along its outer edge. Large dark machinery was hung above the tank, the purpose of which she could not begin to fathom. Some type of control consoles dominated the floor around the tank, although no one currently occupied those spaces. She shivered, the mare once again aware of just how cold she was decided she needed to find something to clean the gel from her fur. She moved over to one of the consoles, hunting for something to keep her warm. Locating a lab coat on the back of one of the consoles chairs, she wiped the gel from her fur letting it slide to the floor with a wet splat. It took only a few tedious minutes to clean the majority of it from her fur. The wings however, that was another story. With a flap she splattered the nearest areas with the cold gel. With a soft sigh she tucked the now cleaner wings against her body and wrapped herself in the lab coat. Failing, once again to notice the dark rust colored splotches along the sleeve. Now clothed she once again took stock of the room, looking above all else for a way out. A door, small but serviceable, sat at the far end of the room. She hurried to it, dim light illuminated the passage beyond. She moved through this dim passageway, ignoring the vines hanging from above. The brackish water that tugged at her hooves from shallow pools. Coming to an intersection, she tilted her head for a moment, ears straining against the quiet, against her own heart beating in her ears then took the left path. For ages she wandered through the dark passageways, water dripping from above, vines and tree roots in places blocked her path, forcing her to backtrack. She came across rooms, some filled with nothing but wet and dusty crates, others with machinery she could not even begin to identify. Words--came to her mind in rapid succession when she saw certain objects. The meaning lost, but words to attribute were just as important. One feature among all others stood out to her, a series of massive cables seemed to connect each of the series of objects and for a time she followed them. Through one room to another, up and down flights of cold gray stairs, through large cavernous halls with detritus strewn about, small rooms with no light at all and finally to a door, she estimated three lengths of her body wide. This door was painted in rust, its frame engraved with some sort of runes. She puzzled at these icons, no words came to her mind and she was unable to parse their meaning. The door itself stood ajar, a crack between itself and the gray walls surrounding it. Through the crack she could make out a larger room, but the light from the hall was only so strong and she was unable to see a bare fraction of it. A word came to mind as she thought through the problem facing her, "Light". And as she concentrated on the word, her eyes screwing themselves shut with the effort, a dim glow began to appear through her eyelids. She opened her eyes, excited to behold what was beyond the door. For a moment, she could see the shape of it all. Words began to spring to mind but the light that had begun softly was rapidly gaining strength. Panic began to set in and she began to concentrate on the light again, in an instant it went from simply bright to blinding. She reeled back, attempting to get away from the burning orb. She collided with the far wall with a crack, and the light, along with her consciousness, were no more. She awoke to a rumble from her center regions, with a groan she sat up and rubbed her eyes. Then rubbed them again, the world was blurry, unfocused. All at once something in her vision began to slide, the fuzzy lines and colors of her surroundings began to slip away. She blinked and the world spun before her eyes, for a moment everything resolved in perfect clarity before sliding back into the haze. She sat against the damp wall, her back already soaked through the coat. With a soft sigh she heaved herself to her hooves and the world spun for a moment. Throwing a bracing hoof against the wall she dry heaved, the sensation of spinning slowly faded and she straightened, sucking her dry cracking lips slightly. Her stomach growled, and the word "Food" swam to the forefront of her consciousness. It felt right, and as she began to make her way slowly through the hazy world before her it felt like the most important thing in the world. Time slipped away from her as she navigated through the hazy gray world of endless corridors and rooms, from time to time she'd rest in a intersection and as she rested she'd complete another piece of the mental map. It was slowly coming together in her mind, the twists and turns, the empty, the cavernous halls, the labs... The first one she'd stumbled upon--it took some time for her mind to produce a word, the word that finally came to mind was "Evil". She could hardly bear to remember those rooms, the devices that she could only begin to guess at their usage, the dark rust colored splotches that were permanently stained into the surfaces. Shaking her head she banished the thought from her mind. She continued on, searching for food and something to slate her growing thirst. During this search she came upon a small door, she attempted to push through it and found it stuck. Focusing on the door she began to study its construction, wood, old, but sturdy. A lock, badly rusted, was the only item of note she found while studying the door. Without a thought the word "Unlock" came to her mind, they were beginning to come more readily. With a touch of her horn to the lock she imagined the rusted lock before her, and with some trepidation felt through the word. A grinding sound came from the lock and its ancient mechanism simply disintegrated. She stepped back as the door swung slightly inward with the squeak of unused hinges. Her momentary concern passed and she stepped forward, kicking the door farther open, revealing the almost cupboard like room beyond. Shelves lined the walls, and she stepped boldly in to claim her prize, and a prize she found. A thick spun sweater, thin pants and a small cloth bag covered in a hard waxy material, she suspected that it'd hold liquids. Shedding the damp jacket she donned her new apparel, and then with the discovery that her new clothing had no pockets she put the jacket back on, and the bag into one of those pockets. She continued to navigate the truly labyrinthine corridors, as her map became ever more and more clear despite the haze that surrounded the world. She found there were some of the various vines and roots she could nibble on without becoming violently sick, and by collecting the clearer dripping water she could sate her thirst. Finally, her mental map was complete. She munched on a root as she thought through the puzzle. There appeared to be no way out, or at least none that she had run into. There was of course, the rust painted door, the only one that she had been unable to get into. She had realized as she puzzled on that door that her vision was likely not coming back on its own. Despite having no reference of time in her dim gray world she felt it should have returned by now, but she had her map and that was all she needed. She'd of course run into sunken passageways, collapsed halls and rooms which had simply given out and were filled with muck and dirt but as she puzzled over the map. That door, it was the only one that made sense, it was on the highest level of the maze and she suspected--the way out. It took almost no time at all to navigate back to the rust colored door after filling her pockets with edible roots and her water bag, as she had taken to calling it, with the cleanest water she could. She stood at the ajar door, looking over its lines, the massive hinges that should allow it to swing outward. It was here where she began, using a bit of broken wall she went to work first with magic and then with her hooves. Chipping away at the rust and the grime that had integrated itself in the mechanism. She'd work until she couldn't anymore, then eat a little of the root, take a sip of water and rest. It was during one of these periods as she sat and worked on the coat, cutting slits in the back to allow her wings to stick through, that there was an almighty creak and with a crunch the rust began to come away in sheets. The door crunched open a little farther and the top hinge simply gave way with a crack, its bulk twisting the lower hinge as it crashed to the floor. The glowing milky orb hung low overhead, neither the mist nor the haze in her eyes could distract from that shape. Nothing could distract her in that moment, not the sucking mud at her hooves, nor the bobbing lights out in the gloom beyond the brackish water that surrounded the little island. She stared up at it in wonder and at the back of her mind she felt a tug, a feeling of ease, of comfort. She knew the word, it was ingrained in her soul.
Point of the Rose: EastView OnlinePoints of the RosePoint of the Rose: EastShe awoke in comfort. Warmth, quiet... the world, hazy, like a dream. Alone with her thoughts the mare simply floated, blissfully unaware that she was about to be disturbed. "My Liege." A voice spoke firmly. It seemed so far away, as she slipped back into the dreamless sleep. She awoke in anger. "My Liege." the voice spoke, "You must awaken." An eye cracked open and searched for the owner of the voice, roving about until settling upon a familiar orange figure. The owner of the eye sucked in a breath through their teeth and the eye closed. The Mare sighed and opened her eyes. "Lightspear... you disappoint me. I was not to be disturbed until after my bath." "Apologies, My liege. The Grand Custodian wishes to speak with you." Lightspear said, "I have a towel waiting for you." he added, no trace of warmth in that voice. "Very well, bring it here." The mare said and took her leave of the warm bath. The air was as it always was, damp, chill, it made her skin prickle. She hated it, she hated the cold, the damp. She never felt dry, not even for a moment. The towel could not come soon enough and she wrapped herself within it. "Lightspear, my attire." the mare commanded. "It is here my liege." He held the ornate box in his hooves. It's exterior light wood inlaid with gold leaf, a stylized sun graced its lid. The mare walked to him and opened the box with a burst of magic, a dark acidic smell filled the air as she did so. Inside, the regalia sat -- snuggled within the radiant white velvet of the interior. It consisted of a small white crown, an emerald as green as her eyes set into the front. A set of white shoes with tiny engravings and finally, a peytral. It as the rest of her regalia was made of steel, engraved with the sun and painted white, it too had tiny emeralds studded throughout the design. The mare looked at the items for but a moment, satisfied they were polished to perfection she removed them from the box and secured them to her person. "Dashing, my liege." said Lightspear as she slid the final shoe on. The mare turned her nose up at this to stare down at the pony beneath her. "Report. What does the Grand Custodian want?" Although her face remained passive, her voice dripped with malice. "She wishes to give you a report, but did not specify further." He closed the box with a air of practiced ease and placed it on his back. "Very well, where is she now?" the mare said and adjusted the crown slightly. "The Aerary, my liege." The mare stopped adjusting her regalia and stared at the diminutive stallion. "The what." The mare narrowed her eyes at Lightshine. She hated it when he used words she wasn't familiar with. She was sure he did it on purpose. "The treasury, my liege," he intoned. "Take me to her." "At once." He dipped his head and turned to the door, and rapt upon it. The door swung open, a small retinue of guards stood outside. They were as always, immaculate. Golden helmets with plumes to shame a peacock, white barding with golden trim to cover themselves in, shoes that could crush and cut and white cloaks with golden trim over the entire ensemble. And as with everyone she had always met, the ever-present sun necklace. A stylized sun, made from gold with a ruby set in the center. Lightspear stepped from the door into the hallway, and took up a spot facing down the hallway. The guards followed suit, making a space for the mare in the middle of their formation. Close, but never close enough to touch. They shied away slightly as she stepped from the bathing room and took her place at the center of the formation. The colder air made her skin prick, she hated the damp. "Lead on, Lightspear." So he did, he took her down the long hallways, past the small lit globes set into the hard grey walls. The only sounds, the clip of hard shoes on the floor and scattered drips. He led them past small drains set into the center of the corridor, down numerous flights of stairs, and with each level down the temperature only dropped further. Finally he led them to a heavy wooden door. It's wood dark with age, nondescript but for the small golden handle set into the edge. Lightspear opened the door and the smell of must assaulted the mares nose. The guards took up positions to either side of the door and Lightshine made a small bow, his hoof outstretched to the door. With a soft huff she made her way through the narrow portal. Beyond it a room opened up, it’s low ceiling and hard stone walls served only to highlight a desk seated directly in the middle of the room. At the desk sat a mare, aged far past any sense of prime, her heavy eyelids closed to the mare as she entered. She was clothed in formal white robes, a stylized sun pendant sat upon her breast, it’s ruby shone dimly in the light. The mare stood for but a moment before rapping her silvered horseshoe on the cold hard floor. “Grand Custodian, you sent for me.” The Grand Custodians eyelids fluttered and opened and her mouth tugged upwards into what could be construed as a smile. “Ah… good, you are here.” “Of course I am here, pray tell, why did you need me here at the hour of my bath?” the mare responded curtly. “Yes… why indeed.” the aged mare grabbed a scroll from the desk and rolled it out with her hooves. The air hung heavy with silence as she read from it. “I do not have all day. If you have nothing to report, I shall go back to enjoying my bath.” spat the mare, her patience was quickly wearing thin for the aged mare. “Of course, I merely thought you ought to know…” she looked up from the document, cold red eyes looked into the mares brilliant green. “Your sisters have been located.” The mare cocked her head in a most undignified manner. “What do you mean, located? We know where they are.” “Ah… no, not by us. The legion has claimed them.” Heat raced across the mares chest, her breathing quickened, eyes narrowed. “Have we reinforced the garrisons?” she asked, the words strained. “They have already been lost. Our complex in the deep north was assaulted, the sleeper awakened. She makes her way back to the center of corruption even now.” “And the others?” she could feel the heat tighten her throat. “As you know, our southern complex was lost some time ago. Although we believed the site secure, the sleeper has awakened and managed to make her way back to the homeland. She resides in the heart of corruption now.” the aged mare rolled the scroll and grasped another, rolling it out along the table. Her eyes flicked from the mare to the scroll. The mares chest was tight, her eyes watered. “The jungle?” “Missing. As best we can tell, there was some sort of malfunction in the growth chamber. The sleeper is gone but we have not been able to locate her. The complex remains intact, it’s garrison is covertly hunting her as we speak.” she allowed the scroll to roll back into itself. “And now you wonder… where is the sleeper of the silver sea.” The mares eyes watered, the heat in her throat and chest tightened further, threatening to choke her, she could only nod. “As far as we can tell… she slumbers. Although the legion was able to recover her, they maintained the containment.” “Why would they bother?” The tightness lessened, not all was lost… the mares mind reeled with implications. “We do not know. We do know that she has been moved to the homeland but we don’t know where.” the aged mare leaned back, her chair creaked with the effort. “Which leaves you, our sun.” “And where is that?!” the mare snapped, her tone rising, the heat in her chest remained but the tightness slacked. The aged mare studied her for a moment, before selecting her words cautiously. “With hope.” “Hope? There’s no hope!” she could feel her anger rising, it burned like fire in her veins. Despite the chill she was suddenly hot. The aged mare set her hoof against the desk. “Calm yourself child. We can--” It was at the moment the aged mare said child that the mares rage, anger and sadness overflowed. It erupted out of her, through her horn. It was as if the sun itself had suddenly decided to rise in the small room, there was a flash and a clap like thunder. Flames engulfed the room, burning away the scrolls and setting the desk alight. The aged mare, the target of her aggression, stood from her burning chair and pushed it away gingerly with a hoof. The flames simply rolled over and around her, the ruby in the sun pendant seemed to drink from the flames that roiled around the room. As suddenly as it began, it was over. The desk crackled as the ancient wood burned from within, there was no smoke, not even a hint lingered in the super-heated air. The mare suddenly felt weak, her knees could no longer support her frame and she slumped slowly to the ground. “Do you feel better, child?” asked the aged mare. The mares throat burned, her head felt as if it were on fire, she sucked down great gulps of the heated air. She extended a wing gingerly, trying to fan her face. “I’ll take that as a yes.” Despite the outburst the aged mare showed no outward signs that she was even remotely harmed, or even phased. “We are sending you to the homeland”, she paused for a moment and walked to stand over the prone mare “To Canterlot.” The mare stared up at her, anger radiated from her bright green eyes. A wave of tiredness was quickly overtaking her, her wing faltered in it’s task of fanning her for a moment. “There is one more thing, your sisters that have been found. They have taken the names North and South.” The aged mare looked into her eyes and smiled. “Your name shall be... East.” Sleep overtook her then, and she fell into a dark slumber, her dreams filled with fire and rage.
