Without Question

Without Question

Chapter Twenty – Productive Suffering

Bon-Bon awoke in a cold, damp cell.  Her body ached from the exhaustion and temperature.  She attempted to stand on the hard, dirt floor, but she was still too weak and both of her sets of legs had been shackled.  The tired pony looked at her surroundings.  Bars prevented her from moving around much in her cramped cell, and from the looks of it, she was not alone.  Her cell was but one of a great many that lined a very long hallway.  It seemed as though every cell was full, containing other members of the defeated Widow Battalion.  Most of the other prisoners were either unconscious or barely moving.

Bon-Bon shivered as she noticed the barred window on the stone wall at the back of her cell.  Standing on her hind legs, she looked out and saw that her hallway was one of four that formed an enormous square building.  The building served as a border around a barren, snow-covered yard.

“Bon-Bon…is that you…?”

The pink-and-violet-maned pony heard a weak voice coming from somewhere down the hall.  She rubbed her eyes and scanned the long room.

“Over here…”

Hearing the voice a second time, she found its source.  A few cells to her right, Typhoon clung to the bars of his cell; his shackled legs slumped on the floor.

“Typhoon?  Are you okay?” Bon-Bon whispered loudly enough to reach his ears.

The small dragon gave a sorrowful smile and nodded once.

“I didn’t think I’d ever see you again…” he whispered back.

“What happened?  Where are we?” she asked.

“I guess a prison…”

“We need to—“

The pair were interrupted as five Changelings wearing black leather coats and field caps entered the hallway.  One of them, who had the bill of his hat lowered just over his eyes, stood in front of the other four, who stood in a square formation behind him.

“Ahem,” the apparent leader stated sternly.

Many of the ponies remained as they were.

“AHEM!” the leader shouted as he drew a black baton and slammed it against the wall.

The loud sound shattered the silence as the echo flew down the hallway.  Everyone awoke and scrambled to their hooves as best they could.  It took some of the weaker ponies several attempts to stand up.

The leader grinned and flared his nostrils.

“Allow me to introduce myself…I am Warden Shade.  And I will be your host this morning…and this evening…and the next day, and year, until you rot from existence…”

Many of the prisoners whispered worriedly amongst themselves.  The Warden frowned at the sudden loss of attention.  He slammed his baton against the wall again, immediately returning the ponies’ eyes and ears to him.

“You see…it has been dreadfully boring having an empty prison for so long...”

The Warden’s head drooped slightly to the floor for a moment.

“Sure, there was the occasional criminal…but they never lasted more than a few days…”

The sick grin spreading across the Warden’s face could be seen just under the brim of his cap.

“Always breaking mere hours into activity sessions…misbehaving when they did not like my hospitality…trying to leave without saying goodbye…”

The Warden slowly looked back up at the prisoners and pulled his cap’s bill back a bit; the dim light from the barred windows reflected off his greyish-white eyes.

“But now…I have a prison FULL of fresh inmat—I mean…guests,” the Warden bit his lip, trying to contain his growing joy.

“Rest assured…despite what the Queen says…you will never be leaving this place…not for long at least…”

The Warden lowered his cap’s bill back over his eyes.

“Now then…a conference.  You will all be escorted from your cells to the yard.  You are in no condition to try anything, so I would not suggest provoking the security…”

The four Changelings behind Shade quietly chuckled before proceeding to unlock the cells.  Each of them kept one hoof on his or her baton at all times.  The prisoners, incapable of offering any resistance, shuffled out of their cells and into the hallway.  A few could barely move and had to be dragged out by their friends and family.

The prisoners quietly marched single-file through a door in the middle of the hallway.  As they passed through, the cold air burned their skin through the fur.  The snow crunched beneath their hooves as the prisoners from each hallway formed a single crowd in the middle of the yard.  About forty Changelings surrounded the crowd, brandishing their batons as though daring one of the prisoners to try something.

Warden Shade and his four accompanying guards stood in front of the crowd.  The prisoners knew at this point that it would be best to focus on him, but it was difficult to pay attention to anything in such freezing weather.  The weaker ponies, who had been dragged out, now needed to be held up or else they would collapse.  Bon-Bon managed to find Typhoon and huddled close to him.

“Attention.  We have a few rules here at my little prison; Rules that, if broken, will result in very unpleasant consequences…”

The prisoners shivered as they waited for him to continue.

“First, you do not leave.  Many have made that mistake…but I’m sure if you dig around the snow, you’ll see why they don’t anymore…”

The Warden grinned again, cocking his head slightly to the side.  Several ponies looked down at their half-buried hooves, frightened at what he could have meant.

“Second, you will eat what we give you.  Refuse at your own risk.  Requests for more will be met with a swift and enthusiastic beating.”

At this, the guards began grinning along with the Warden.

“Third, we have many activities to keep you busy during your stay.  Refusal will result in public execution.”

The prisoners were now shaking with fear as much as they were with the weather.  Typhoon’s eyes had begun to tear up, but the cold almost instantly dried them.  The Warden took a moment to breathe in with satisfaction.  Behind him, a messenger approached with a letter.

Warden Shade turned to the messenger.  The prisoners could not hear what they were saying but the Warden appeared to be growing angry.  Then he began to yell.

“WHAT?  Absolutely not!  No one leaves my prison!  No one!  I ought to--!”

The messenger appeared to nervously continue relaying his message.

“B-but…well…that IS generous…fine.  Take those three.”

The Warden pointed a hoof at three unicorns at the front of the crowd.  A pair of guards escorted the messenger and unicorns out of the prison.

“Maybe now we can afford new batons…” the Warden mumbled to himself as he returned his attention to the crowd.

“As I was saying…those are my three rules.  Follow them, and we shall get along as nicely as one can in my quaint little prison.  Now, back to your cells for ‘breakfast.’  We wouldn’t want you all to starve, now would we?”

Shade’s grin was nearly ear to ear as the guards led the crowd back into the hallways and into their cells.

Who would have thought Hell could actually freeze over…

One week later…

The trains carrying thousands of Changeling troops and supplies had arrived at Fort Storm and unloaded rapidly over the week as the army marched to the plains north of Opaque Ridge.  The warm clothing provided by the capital’s clothiers had made the cruel winter winds much more bearable for the soldiers of her Dark Majesty.  The plains were a vast and virtually blank region.  Nothing but flat, pure white ground for as far as the eye could see, which wasn’t very far due to falling snow.  This bothered Silus somewhat.

“Damn…” the human commander mumbled.

“What is it, sir?” Grimsoul inquired as he approached his dear friend’s side.

“I did not expect the plains to be so flat.  I mean, that IS the typical characteristic of such a landscape, but this…this is completely devoid of any increase in elevation…not a single hill or even a bump for miles.  To make matters worse, that’s only a guess.  I would rather not risk trekking into the snowfall simply to find a likely non-existent hill.”

“Is that a problem, Lord Silus?”

“Well, normally it is a great advantage to possess high ground.  But as you can see, there is nothing high about any part of this ground.  I suppose we could possibly build our own small hills, but that would prove difficult in these conditions.”

“Well, sir, tell us where to start and we’ll do what we can.”

Silus turned around to see the grand horde of soldiers under his command.  Their chainmail and plastic-like armor glistened in the morning light.  A sense of pride radiated from each and every member of the force.  It warmed Silus to see such dedication.

“Alright.  Well.  I believe it would be best if I instruct you all on how to properly dig a trench and build a bunker.”

The horde’s collective faces showed confusion at the last few words.  Silus sighed despite anticipating this.

“Among other supplies, I ordered for building materials to be brought along.  Lumber, stone bricks, saws, hammers, and shovels.  Gather them and reassemble as soon as possible!”

About half an hour later, the army had reassembled.  Each Changeling wielded a tool instead of a weapon.  The Colossi held huge beams of wood and blocks of stone on their shoulders.

“Excellent.  Now then…a trench.  You see, trenches provide basic shelter on a battlefield and serve as a good defensive position.  Seeing as the majority of you are shorter than myself…it would be best to dig each trench as a rectangular hole approximately four feet deep, five feet wide, and fifteen feet long.  The ends of the trenches should form slightly upward-slanted ramps so that you can easily exit them without having to climb out.”

The soldiers nodded with interest, eager to see if they could mimic this concept.

“Put all of the dug-up dirt and snow in a pile here.  The trenches should form lines in front of the pile and on both sides.  That newly-built mound will later be made into a bunker!  But for now, work on the trenches.”

Those with shovels got to work and started building several crude trenches alongside a growing mound of dirt and snow.

“As each trench is built, cover the floor and walls with planks!  This will keep it from collapsing while also keeping you warmer!  Sharper some of the wooden beams and then plant them at a forty-five degree angle in front of the trenches.  This dissuades the enemy from making direct charges into your trenches!”

Those with saws began crafting stakes and planks from the beams carried by the Colossi.  It would take time for them to make enough.

“Once we finish the trenches, we can begin work on the bunker.  Keep at it, troops!  We’ll turn these wastes into a fortress worthy of her Highness!” Silus shouted encouragingly.

“But sir, shouldn’t we at least scout the area a bit?” Grimsoul suggested.

Silus rubbed his chin and looked around.  He leaned close to Grimsoul.

“Take a few Imperial Guards with you, ones that can keep quiet.  Go further north and find what you can.  Don’t speak to anyone but me until you have a report, understood?” the human whispered in an egregious tone.

“Aye, Lord Silus.  We will return soon,” Grimsoul quietly replied and left to gather his party.

“Where could they be…” Silus whispered to himself.

Meanwhile…

“My, he’s a large fellow!” Sagemaster Macabre chuckled as he viewed the newly-arrived Colossus from the capital.

“Does it talk?” Gloom asked.

“He doesn’t talk, Gloom.  But he understands perfectly,” Obscure snapped at her fellow sage.

“Hush, you two.  Have some respect for our mighty guest!” the Sagemaster scolded his assistants.

The Colossus stood quietly by the black wall at the sage’s camp.  Other than a rare grumble, he mostly just looked up at the sky.

“Fine.  Why is he so quiet?  It bothers me,” Gloom asked irritably.

“The Colossi language died long ago for unknown reasons, my young assistant,” Macabre replied, “It was far more complex than our own language, which is why they understand basic Changeling speech, but they do not seem to be able to speak as we do.”

“Odd…” Gloom mumbled as he aided Obscure in carving a huge pickaxe out of Staticstone for the Colossus.  It was almost finished.

The Sagemaster approached the Colossus curiously.  He had only seen a few Colossi in his life, and most of those viewings were when he was very small.

“Excuse me, do you have a name?” Macabre asked excitedly, though he was unsure of how the enormous Changeling would answer.

The Colossus looked down at the Sagemaster with an expressionless face.  The giant pointed up to a cloud.

“Cloud…?” Macabre guessed.

The Colossus pointed at the cloud again, then pointed at his horn.

“Cloudhorn?  That is your name?” the old sage guessed again.

The massive being nodded once and returned his stare to the sky.

“I see.  Are you a strong Colossus, Cloudhorn?”

Without removing his gaze, Cloudhorn grunted.  Macabre assumed this was an affirmative.

“Great.  We need a strong Colossus for a job like this!” the Sagemaster grinned.

Again, Cloudhorn did not shift his eyes from the sky.  Macabre’s grin faded a bit at the lack of a response, but returned to his work nonetheless.  Shortly afterward, a small group of Changelings with a trio of unicorns arrived.

“Sagemaster Macabre, the prisoners you requested are here.  They are still weak from hunger, but we came as fast as we could,” the messenger in the group stated, “These fellows are very uh…motivational about efficient marching,” he finished, nervously glancing at the annoyed prison guards.

“Just in time!  Obscure, Gloom, are you finished?” Macabre shouted to his assistants.

“Yes, Sagemaster.  We just attached the handle!  The Staticstone is sharp and sturdy!” Obscure replied.

“Alright then.  You fellows may return to your work.  Our large friend here will likely serve as excellent security on his own,” Macabre nodded at the daydreaming Colossus.

As the messenger and guards left, the Sagemaster led the shackled and weak unicorns over to the wall where Cloudhorn was now wielding his new tool.

“I understand you unicorns are powerful with magic…but only when you aren’t exactly at death’s door, heh heh,”

Macabre chuckled at his new workers, “But even when weak, you know as well as I do that you are still capable of doing things we Changelings cannot.  So I have a proposition for you three.  Charge up this large fellow’s pickaxe, and I will feed you something that isn’t fifty-percent dirt.  Deal?”

The unicorns, shredded by the exhaustion, nodded with what little strength they had left.  They approached the Colossus and, pointing their horns at his strange tool, began charging it to the best of their ability.  Light sparks fizzed around their horns and the Staticstone of the pickaxe began to glow.  The unicorns shook and coughed in pain, forcing themselves to their limits for the sake of a decent meal.  The Staticstone began to vibrate and electricity sparked rapidly from every part of the mineral.  As the seconds passed, the pickaxe sparked more and more violently until it seemed like a permanent electrical aura had formed around the tool.

The unicorns fell to the ground; their gaunt faces pale with weakness.  The Sagemaster slowly trotted over to them.  He forced a smile and spoke quietly.

“Good work.  Thank you for your effort.  You’ll find some warm bowls of soup in the tent.  You’ve earned it.”

The unicorns did all but crawl to the tent as the Sagemaster looked on.  He felt a tinge of guilt as he watched them struggle.  Gloom merely shrugged at the sight while Obscure shot Macabre a disappointed glare.

“I-It’s not slavery…it’s just…productive suffering…that’s all…” he thought to himself.

Shaking his head, he tried to return to the matter at hand.  He approached the Colossus, who had finally taken his eyes off of the sky.

“Now, Cloudhorn, I need you to strike this black wall as hard as you possibly can, alright?  Think you can break off a chunk?”

The mighty Changeling grunted softly.  Turning to face the wall, he raised the pickaxe high above his head.  The air whistled as he brought the tool crashing down into the wall.  In a flash of light and sparks, the wall began to crack slightly.

“Again, Cloudhorn!  Again!” Macabre shouted excitedly.

The Colossus complied and delivered several more immense blows to the cracked section of the wall.  After what must have been the twentieth strike, a small black rock fell from the wall.

“Yes!  YES!  We did it!” the old sage squealed as his assistants gawked in disbelief.

“I knew it!” Obscure punched Gloom in the shoulder.

“Agh!  Fine, you were right!  Let’s just check it out already…” Gloom whined.

Cloudhorn continued to strike the wall, though a bit more slowly.  It took great effort to break the wall, and even a Colossus could wear itself out.

“You can take a break, my friend!  We will need time to examine this marvelous thing!” Macabre shouted to Cloudhorn as the sages carried the rock into the tent.

Macabre did all he could not to look at the unicorns desperately slurping and licking at their bowls like wild dogs…