Chapters Year 2532, 34 th of Chillwind, Hour 34 – Northwood Forest, Unnamed Hamlet – General POV
Under the shining night sky, tucked away in a small valley surrounded by spruce trees lays a hamlet. The chilling northern winds gently rattle the shop signs and shuffle the stray autumn leaves across the ground, yet to be covered in white snow.
The streets remain devoid of life, as not a single soul was out at this hour. The only sign of activity is a single military gunship, sitting quiet in the center of the hamlet.
Near the cockpit of the gunship were five soldiers, Equestrian Royal Guards to be specific. Each adorned in gold and bronze-plated armor, they were all occupied with various activities.
Three sat around a collapsible table. The stallion and mares were engaged in a game of blackjack.
The fourth soldier stands, impatient. He continues resting his form against a nearby lamppost and staring out in the direction of a taller mountain. The fifth paced across the length of the street, his ears nervously folded against his head.
After a minute, the pacing soldier breaks the silence.
“What if she finds out!?” His pacing never lessens.
The mare closest to him at the table releases a frustrated sigh, “She isn’t going to find out.”
“But what if she does?!” The pacing guard’s voice becomes more frantic.
“Timber, faraking relax,” The mare at the table rolls her eyes. “There’s no way Celestia knows what we’re doing. She may be powerful and all, but she’s not omniscient.”
“You keep saying that, Major Glaze, but do you know if it’s really true?”
“Sweet Creator,” The other mare across from Glaze, sliding her fingers through her blue and purple pastel mane, speaks up. “Can you like, make him shut up?”
“Sky Lace, be nice.”
“…”
“Alright, farak it. Timber, shut your mouth and relax. If I hear you complain again, I’ll place you on KP for the rest of your career.”
“But—” Timber protests.
“—What did I just say? Be quiet!”
Glaze relaxes back into her chair, slamming her cards down on the table.
“Straight flush,” Glaze says with a smirk.
Sky Lace and the other stallion guard throw their cards onto the table, irked expressions on their faces.
Timber releases a heavy breath, halting his pacing. Not long after, though, he walks to the lone stallion leaning against the gunship.
“You’ve been quiet this whole time. What do you think of all this, Lieutenant Hanger?” Timber asks.
Hanger continues his vigilant gaze up the mountainside.
“Hmph, I think Captain Grayblade is pushing her luck as Captain of the Guard. She shouldn’t be free to do as she pleases.”
Timber starts to respond. “What does that—”
Timber’s sentence is cut short from a low rumbling in the sky, above the mountain.
The five guards adjust their gazes upward in the direction of the sound. Dark swirling clouds begin to form, with white flashes of lighting bursting inside. Without delay, as the clouds appear, four glowing bolts of lightning strike down from the sky, each after the other. The boom echoes down the mountainside, causing the residents to exit their homes to find the source of the sudden sound.
Glaze rotates her chair towards the lightshow. She leans back and stretches out her legs.
“Get comfortable, the show’s about to begin.”
General POV – Two Kilometers Northwest of Unnamed Hamlet
Cries of terror and unnatural roars echo around the mountainside. A sudden explosion of fire bursts within the tree line, sending a rain of charred flesh into the air. A hulking form of a horned Minotaur charges through the waist-level brush.
Not a second later, the smaller form of a half-Unicorn mare follows. Glowing purple bolts of lightning arc around her arms, and ethereal magic power shines in her eyes and along her horn. With a snarl, the Anthow’piovel charges a Lightning spell into her hands, throwing an arc of electrical sparks from her palm.
Upon contact, the Minotaur’s back is seared and melted. The lightning bursts through his chest, throwing blood and flesh against the nearby plants. He gasps in surprise and pain before falling to the ground.
The mare, her face contorted with fury, ignites a new spell into her hands.
She places her hand against her chest, drawing out a miniscule purple orb. She throws it to the corpse of the Minotaur. As the glowing ball penetrates his body, the corpse trembles before raising back onto its feet. The corpse hunches over like a zombie; faint purple energy pulses from the undead creature’s eyes and wounds.
The mare points in the direction of an orange light, where more screams and roars are heard. She mutters one word, her thick Sarabian accent tainted with a strong ethereal echo,
“Kill.”
The undead corpse of the Minotaur bursts to life, roaring in the same unnatural tone and charges to the light.
The mare follows after the undead, aggressively marching into the camp. Around her, several undead Minotaurs fight against others of their kind that still live. She approaches a single Minotaur; a chieftain, decorated with skulls along his belt and several tattoos across his chest. He lays on a destroyed tent, clutching a large abrasion on his arm.
The mare points to the chieftain, speaking another command to her undead corpses.
“Hold.”
Two of the undead quit their mauling of other dead Minotaur and latch onto the chieftain, pulling him onto his knees.
The mare stared into his soul, her angry glare and whitened eyes striking fear into his heart.
“You Minotaurs always were cocky,” she says. “Believing that you had no equal. You tested the waters, seeing how much you could get away with. But now, you’ve gone too deep. You—” the mare drives a finger into the chieftain’s chest. “—made a grave mistake.”
She pulls back.
“You attacked soldiers,” her voice gains a dangerously calm tone. “Royal Guards. You killed several, but you also killed one that was very dear to me.”
The mare flicks her wrists, charging another Lightning-based spell into her palms. For each passing second, the magical humming increases in strength.
“And now, I’m going to kill you. I’m going to make you feel more pain than your weak mind can even comprehend. Then, I will spread your remains to every corner of your wretched clan, so that any other Minotaurs of your kind will understand what happens when you piss off Solaria Grayblade!”
She brings back her arms, the glowing orbs of lightning crackling loudly. Without notice, she feels a brutal bluntness impact into her left ribcage. The force of the blow sends the mare several meters away.
With her concentration broken, the five undead Minotaurs lose their glowing features and crumple to the ground, lifeless.
“Let’s go, Chief,” the hammer-wielding Minotaur helps the chieftain onto his feet.
“Good work, Svelg.” The chieftain replies, sending a glare to the mare’s form on the ground before retreating into the forest with his clanmate.
Solaria’s POV
I groan, the dull pain aching from my ribs. The effect of my magical overload had absorbed most of the impact, but a substantial bruise was still given to me. My rib will be aching for the next few days for sure.
Curse my blind eye! If I could still see from it, I could’ve prevented it.
I lift myself off the ground into a sitting position, falling back against my right arm. A few meters away from me is the carnage left over from my emotionally induced overload. I rub my face with my left hand, brushing the loose stands of my fiery mane over to the left.
All that power, yet I couldn’t make the shot… faraking leathersacks and their stubborn, fearless minds!
My face becomes contorted with fury. Standing up, I ignite Shockwave into my palm and cast it against a nearby spruce. I twist my arm counterclockwise. The tree explodes outward, the lightning blast of the spell throwing splinters of wood and bark all around. With a groan, the massive tree tips perpendicular to me, crashing to the forest floor with a crunch.
I release a scream of anger and frustration, punching another spruce that sits next to me. The action causes a flare of pain through my left side as I hear the bark crack.
The pain is nothing compared to the feeling of failure I had.
I’ll get him soon. Then, Stronghold will be avenged…
I spend a few minutes calming myself down. When I can think clearly again, I cover the fire left by the Minotaurs in dirt and start walking the distance back to the hamlet.
34 th of Chillwind, Hour 36 – Northwood Forest, Unnamed Hamlet – General POV
“There she is,” Timber calls to the other Guards. The five soldiers gather in front of the gunship with a few of the townsmembers. They all wait as the Captain walks down the street to the gunship.
As Solaria approaches, the Guards notice she’s gripping her left ribcage, a look of discomfort stretching across her muzzle.
“Are you alright, Captain,” Glaze asks.
Solaria gives out a ragged breath.
“I’ll be fine.”
“Well, did you get him?” Sky Lace’s voice expressing her anger.
“No, Sergeant Lace, I didn’t,” Solaria says, grimacing.
Several of the soldier’s faces drop.
“But, how…” Sky Lace questioned, feeling shocked at Solaria’s answer.
“He may have escaped this time, but he hasn’t won. I promised I would destroy that monster, and I will do just that!” Solaria declares.
“When will you ‘destroy’ him? In a few days? In a few weeks? He’ll be long gone by then!”
“That’s enough, Sergeant Lace. I’ll handle it.”
“But—”
“I said drop it!”
Hearing the venom in Solaria’s voice, Sky Lace bites back the response she had.
Solaria limps over the rear of the gunship.
“Lieutenant Hanger, get these townsmembers back in their homes.”
While Hanger clears the small crowd, Glaze gestures for the rest of the soldiers to grab their equipment and board the transport.
As they board, Glaze watched each soldier enter the gunship. War Coach was frustrated, Sky Lace was angry, Timber was worried. Only Hanger’s face contained the slightest of smiles. It was clear his thoughts were focused on something else. Glaze’s face twitches. A million thoughts race through her mind, all involving Hanger, as she double-checks that everyone is on board, before joining the group.
After a few moments, the engine thrusters of the gunship come to life with a mechanical whir. The bay door closes with a hiss and the thrusters release a burst of blue fire. It takes off slowly, spinning around to face opposite of its landing position before flying off with a loud thrum.
35 th of Chillwind, Hour 2 – Canterlot, Military Aerial Docks – Solaria’s POV
“Nice job, guys. And remember – not a word to anyone.”
Both pilots confirmed my request with a nod. Satisfied with their response, I leave the gunship’s cockpit. My squad is gathering their items they had brought with them as I pass by.
All of them were disappointed.
I had failed to deliver on my promise to them. The feeling hurt more than I expected it to.
A quiet cough touches my ears. Major Glaze is next to me, trying to gain my attention. I step closer, leaning in to hear her thoughts.
“Keep an eye on Hanger,” Glaze murmurs. “Something about him this trip has been… off.”
I glance to the stallion in question. He’s casually waiting at the door of the gunship. His posture isn’t like the rest. His shoulders aren’t weighed with discouragement, and his expression is too calm. Everyone else was either sad, angry, or frustrated.
“Don’t worry,” I place a hand upon Glaze’s shoulder. “I’ll be keeping a close eye on him. For now, however—” I raise my voice for everyone to hear “—All of you get some rest. If you have an assignment tonight, don’t worry about it. You can do it tomorrow.”
A flurry of tired “Yes ma’ams” ring from around the gunship. All of us exit the vehicle, traveling down from the landing pad to the path. As we all silently walk towards the castle, each soldier taking a different path until I’m all who remains.
Now alone, I take the opportunity to view the night. The sky is absent of clouds, allowing the full shine of the moon and stars to flood the ground.
After the short remainder of my walk, the guard barracks come into view. I turn to my personal quarters; separate from the standard soldier quarters.
With a flick of my wrist, I cast Telekinesis, using it to unlock my door from within. I enter and relock the door.
In the single, white-walled room is a simple bed, pressed against the center of the wall furthest from the door. To the right is my dresser and two bookshelves, filled with various combat and tactician books. To the left is a small kitchen, holding all the necessities. To the right of my bed is a desk, with a doorway leading to a bathroom, and on the left is my armor closet.
I start to strip off my heavy armor, carelessly removing the helmet and dropping it to the ground. I undo the bun my mane is in, allowing it to fall against my shoulders.
The gauntlets are next; unlocked by sliding a finger along a crease traveling the forearm’s length. A simple, yet efficient way to seal armor without the need of straps or locks.
The rest of my armor components follow, until only the under-armor remains. I feel a sudden flash of aching pain from my ribs. I wince, sitting down on the end of my bed and ignite Swelling Reduction. I press my palm against my ribs, feeling the ache disappear as the magic does its job in reducing the swelling.
I cancel the spell and collapse onto my bed, not caring to swap the under-armor out for something else. It is comfortable enough to sleep in, considering it is designed to be like a second skin.
Normally, I would meditate on my magic, allowing myself to increase my magical strength. The events of tonight however, were physically exhausting. My failures also weighed on my mind, causing me to feel more tired than I actually was.
Unable to keep my eyes open, I lie on top of my bed, immediately drifting off to sleep.
Author's Note
Well this was an interesting turn of events. This story actually existed up until the 4th. I was going to update it with a new chapter, only to find that the story was no longer existing. It was gone, and I have no idea how or why.
Regardless, I've uploaded it again. It's not the worst thing (okay it's still bad), considering I was going to update the currently posted chapters with fresh stuff anyways. So, Chapter 1 and 2 are back and fixed, with Chapter 3 on the way. Chapter 4 and 5 will also be posted whenever I finish changing them.
I also have Chapter 6-9 ready. Chapter 6 will be uploaded next Saturday or Sunday, with 7-9 following every week. This is how I'll be uploading chapters until this story's finished: I'll write and perfect each arc, then upload the chapters on a weekly basis. This way, I won't be going back through and rewriting everything when I go to upload a new chapter.
As a final note, I was originally leaving each magic spell in the Author's Note at the end of each chapter. I figured it would work better if I left them all in a Google Docs file. This Google Doc actually.
Anyways, enjoy! Leave your comments and such!
--Thanks to HoneyBacho for assisting in editing and world continuity
Year 2532, 35 th of Chillwind, Hour 7 – Canterlot Castle, Solaria’s Quarters - Solaria’s POV
I awake with a jolt. Sitting up, I feel the sweat soaking my fur and under-armor. Sighing, I brush my mane over to the left.
Relax, no one knows. At least no one important…
I glance over to my bedside clock, the time reading 7:29.
Great, five hours of sleep. Might as well get up. There’s no point in trying to sleep again.
I slide off my bed, flicking on the lights with Telekinesis and walk into the bathroom. After applying cold water to my face, I go through the motions of my morning routine, ending it all with a hot shower. I climb in, not caring to remove my under-armor at first. I do strip it off after a few minutes, cleaning both my fur and the Veralax Mesh.
Ten minutes pass before I step out. Igniting and activating Fire Cloak, I watch the orange flames circle my body, lasting a few seconds before dying out. Completely dry, I cast the same spell to the under-armor before slipping back into it.
Not feeling hungry, and with nothing better to do, I go about reassigning the soldiers that had traveled with me last night. The task doesn’t take long. After it’s done, I brush my mane and set it back into its bun, moving to my armor closet and donning the set.
With everything I would need for now, I leave my quarters and take the path leading to the castle, ready to start an early day.
35 th of Chillwind, Hour 11 – Canterlot Castle, Barracks Mess Hall – General POV
“Morning, Lace.”
War Coach greets the half-dead Pegasus, her ears folded back against her head. He stood beside her as she prepares herself a mug of coffee.
She mutters a half-baked greeting in return, watching the liquid dribble down into the cup. When the machine finally finishes loading up the mug, Sky Lace tenderly grabs it and turns around to face the packed mess hall.
Off to their right, War Coach notices Captain Solaria enter into the hall.
“How do you think the Captain’s feeling?” War Coach nudged Sky Lace, gesturing in Solaria’s direction.
Sky Lace takes a long drink and groggily responds.
“Probably feeling the same as me: mad, tired, and disappointed at the outcome of our little ‘mission.’”
They both watch as the Captain approaches another Guard and begins to speak with him.
“Well, she shouldn’t beat herself up over it,” War Coach says. “I was surprised she even managed to find them.”
“Heh, I’d personally be more concerned with our trip being busted.”
“Oh please, which of us would be foolish enough to rat out our escapade, especially since the Captain was leading it?”
The two watch as Solaria leaves the mess hall. They both notice Lieutenant Hanger suddenly walks in through another entry. He saunters his way to Sky Lace and War Coach. The smirk on Hanger’s face gave both soldiers an unsettling feeling.
“Have either of you seen Captain Grayblade? I have, ah— urgent news, to tell her.”
“She went that way,” War Coach hesitantly says, pointing in the direction the Captain had taken.
“Thank you, Sergeant.” Hanger’s smug tone grows worse.
He makes his way through the crowd, following after the Captain. Sky Lace and War Coach share a look.
“I have a bad feeling—”
“—Have either of you seen Captain Grayblade?!”
Sky Lace’s sentence is interrupted by Major Glaze, her face flustered. Sky Lace holds her tongue, giving Glaze the same answer War Coach had given Hanger.
“Yeah, she went that way—" a point to the door. “—Hanger just left looking for her as well.”
“Oh no…”
Both Sky Lace’s and War Coach’s faces change to worried expressions.
“Why? What did he do?” Sky Lace’s posture tenses.
“All I can say is,” Glaze murmurs, her ears pressing against her helmet. “May the Creator have mercy on the Captain’s soul, because Queen Celestia sure won’t.”
Canterlot Castle, Halls - Solaria’s POV
“Captain, may I have a word?”
I hear Hanger’s voice behind me. I roll my eyes and slow my pace to a halt, waiting for him to catch up.
“What is it, Hanger?”
His smile instantly gave me an unnerved feeling.
“Her Majesty, Queen Celestia wishes to see you. Right now.”
…
“As she requests.”
I brush past Hanger and begin to walk towards Celestia’s office.
“She wants to see you in the courtroom.”
I freeze.
“Why would she want to see me in the courtroom,” I ask, turning to face Hanger. Half of my mind is convinced he had committed a foolish act.
He’s nowhere near me, already gone. That’s not at all concerning, or suspicious.
I make my way to towards the courtroom, taking my sweet time. My stomach churns over the implications of a meeting in such a place.
What reason would Queen Celestia want to ‘meet’ me in the courtroom. I swear, if Hanger opened his muzzle to her… I’ll kill him. He’s been a thorn in my side ever since I chose Armor as my Lieutenant Captain over him… In fact, I’ll bet that’s what this whole mess is about… That faraking scumbag…
For the first time since I nearly succumbed to that Nightmare weapon protecting the Queen, I felt scared. Unscheduled meetings with the Queen was never a good sign, especially with her recent outbursts. A voice in the back of my head tells me nothing good will come from this.
I turn a corner, finding the courtroom doors at the end of a long hall. I take a few deep breaths, preparing to shove open the wood double doors.
Maybe I’m overreacting and this whole ordeal will be fine…
35 th of Chillwind, Hour 12 – Canterlot Castle, Courtroom - Solaria’s POV
‘Henceforth from this moment on, Solaria Grayblade, on accounts of insubordination, and charges of Necromantic activity, you are hereby discharged from your position as Captain of the Guard.”
The crack of the gavel echoes throughout the courtroom.
What in the name of the Creator is happening…
“If the defendant would like to make a declaration before the court, please do so at this time.”
My shock keeps my voice at bay for a moment, before I shout an angry response.
“Those charges are false! Who would dare make such claims?!”
“The accuser asked to remain anonymous, so I cannot answer that question,” Celestia replies, before turning to the other occupants of the room. “The court is now adjourned. You all may--”
The rest of her words are lost to my ears as my mouth hangs open, silently gaping at the progression of events.
It was Hanger, I swear on my life! What’s even worse is that I’m discharged?! Without so much as a verdict, witnesses, or even evidence?!! What is Celestia thinking?!
I hear the courtroom doors close. At the sound, I look around the room. Only the Queen and I remain.
My shocked and relatively calm demeanor breaks. I walk up the Queen’s desk and slam my hands onto it.
“Discharged?! You discharged me on a single claim?!”
I catch her Celestial Guards move closer to me, their hands tightening around their golden halberds.
Celestia looks at me, keeping her expression neutral. However, her folded ears and searing fire in her eyes told me that my actions were making her angry.
“I think it’s quite clear—"
“—I did nothing wrong!” I interrupt her. “You listen to one voice and ignore everything else! What kind of judgement is that?!”
Celestia jolts up from her seat, flaring out her wings to cast a shadow. She learns her taller form to me, snarling out her words into my face.
“You should know better than anyone the consequences of disobeying my command. And on top of doing that, you made military decisions without consulting me!”
“I didn’t consult you because you would do nothing! Like the last time Minotaurs invaded out lands, I did all the work while you and Vaelum sat in this wretched castle!”
Celestia’s eyes narrow.
“So you were the one that cleared out the Minotaurs. Vaelum told me so, but I had faith that you were better than that…”
“That’s what you pull from this??! Not the fact that you let your country suffer while I listened to its cries?!”
“How dare you question my ruling! You have no idea what it takes to lead a nation and the sacrifices one must make!”
“I know a leader doesn’t idly sit as two whole towns are ransacked and burned to the ground! You know what I believe? I believe that sitting these past centuries has given you power for too long! I think Equestria is due for new leadership!”
The air around Celestia ignites with an invisible blaze. The heatwave forces me to step back and face away.
“You better shut your muzzle right now ,” Celestia’s voice is scorching like the air around her. “Else I’ll make you regret your next words…”
“Very well…” I respond.
In my opinion, actions speak louder than words anyways…
As quickly as I can muster, I ignite Strategic Strike, facing the Queen and casting the spell. Both Celestia and her two guards are caught in the red bubble, freezing in place. With the brief window of opportunity, I ignite Gust and add as much force into it as I possibly can before casting it at the guards. With Strategic Strike, the effects of Gust are stacked on top of each other, building the spell into a single, powerful blast.
When Strategic Strike’s duration ends, I switch to Electrical Lock and cast the spell at Celestia. While her guards are thrown against the wall, Celestia is struck by the volts. Her muscles seize up and she drops to the ground, suffering from temporary paralysis.
She cries out in surprise as her legs give out.
I sprint over to her and begin to repeatedly strike her face with my gauntleted fist. I can feel her skin split, the blood covering my glove.
The crack of bones breaking reaches my ears as I continue to hammer on the helpless Queen.
I switch my strikes to aim for her horn, but my arm is caught before I can land the shot. Something blunt strikes my blind side, forcing me off of Celestia.
I can do nothing as I see stars swirl above me.
A hand roughly presses down on my breastplate, before thousands of electrical volts course throughout my body. I’m unconscious in seconds.
Day and Location Unknown – Solaria’s POV
I awake with a start, my eyes fluttering open. As I look around, I see I’m lying on a suspended cot withing the cell walls of the castle dungeon. The feeling of cuffs sits on my wrists, and the cold metal of an Inhibitor Ring clings to my horn. My armor is also gone, only the under-armor and boots remain.
I rotate my lower body off the suspended bed. With a quick glance to the cell door, I can see the three Riot Guards positioned outside.
No sense in trying to escape…
As I lean back against the wall, one of the Riot Guards uses a holo-device to call another unit.
In five minutes, a door down the hallway outside my cell opens. Metal footsteps echo off the cement floor.
They stop at my door. I look up, feeling the sense of instant betrayal. My eyes narrow as I find the figure of Lieutenant Hanger standing outside my cell.
I knew it…
“Good, you’re awake. Her majesty Queen Celestia wants to speak with you.”
I only stare, feeling the complete rage course through my body.
I want nothing more than to strangle that pile of svist to death, but the presence of the Riot Guards is enough to prevent me from doing so.
Hanger gestures to a Riot Guard to unlock the cell. When the guard does, I am guided out into the hall, Hanger is walking in front of me.
We exit the dungeon and leave the danker prison area. Hanger takes the silence as an opportunity to start running his mouth.
“Just so you understand, Solaria, what I did was nothing personal.”
“Don’t try and lie to me,” I venomously hiss. “Everything you did was personal.”
He stays silent for a minute.
“Fine, I’ll admit it, it was personal. But what did you expect when you chose that inexperienced Lieutenant Shining Armor over me?”
“He had more potential than you ever did…”
“Like how Stronghold had more potential over you?”
My eyes go wide before narrowing into a seething stare.
“It seems as if you’re making excuses, just like your mother did when she was forced to make—”
His words become a choking gargle as I throw my shackled arms over his head and tighten my grasp. He fights to free himself, but I’ve caught him off-guard. His clumsy attempts do nothing against my stronger grip. As he struggles, I kick his legs out from underneath him, causing both of us to fall against the ground.
A sharp prod from an electric baton jabs my shoulder. In my bout of rage, I had forgotten that Hanger isn’t the only member of my escort.
Regardless, I refuse to let go, instead tightening my grasp. The guard prods me again, but I again refuse to release Hanger.
The Riot Guard cranks up the power on his baton, causing the electricity to arc along the metal shaft.
This time, the pain forces me to relax my grip. The Guards roughly separate us.
As I’m pulled to my feet, Hanger stands a good distance away, coughing and gasping for air.
Eventually, he composes himself, but the cocky and arrogant attitude is gone, replaced by fear.
“Get her to the throne room immediately!” he stutters out.
“I promise you, Hanger!” I struggle against the Riot Guards. “I’ll make you die a slow and agonizing DEATH ! You’ll regret your actions!!”
The beautiful look of terror on his face is the only response I need.
==|000|==
Ultimately, Hanger decided to remain behind. Leaving only the Riot Guards and myself to continue onward. As the group approaches the throne room, my nerves begin to get the better of me.
I feel as though my assault on Celestia might’ve been a bit too much… There’s no way I come out of this alive… Might as well go out with a bang…
Two Royal Guards standing at the heavy golden doors push them apart, allowing passage for us.
I take a look down the long room.
Standing at the foot of her throne, with her wings fully extended, stands the Queen. The scorching glare in her eyes and the steady increase of temperature tell me exactly what she has in store for me.
I glance at my escort. The two Riot Guards flanking me are sweating bullets, their eyes showing the pure fear they hold behind their stoic faces.
I share their emotion.
The Riot Guards escort me up to her, halting at the beginning of the steps that lead to her throne.
For a minute, as we stare at each other, I do my best to hold a neutral, rebellious glare.
Celestia breaks the silence, slowly stepping her way down from her throne.
“Back when you were rising through the ranks, I followed your progress intently. I saw that you had the potential to lead my Royal Guard with an iron fist, willing to shape my battalion into the greatest fighting force Alheere has ever seen. And I won’t lie, you did just that.”
Her praising flips in a heartbeat.
“I’ve always wondered, however, what drove you to do such a thing. You’ve spent your entire life in my military up to this point. Now, I understand why…”
“You know nothing!” I snap.
“You had an ulterior motive,” Celestia ignores my comment. “You were playing the long game, working to get close to me.”
“You’re delusional!” I retort. “Has your addled brain forgotten all my sacrifices?! I toppled the Griffonian Empire in your name! I saved your miserable life from that lunatic Dusk Light! I’ve sacrificed more for you than you’ve sacrificed for you own country!”
Celestia’s expression becomes furious. She closes the remaining gap, striking my body with the intense temperature.
“I’ve done things you couldn’t even imagine,” she hisses into my face. “My service as Queen already beats any ‘sacrifices’ you might have made.”
She turns away from me, climbing her way back to her throne.
“You mean your service of sucking off all those politicians and dignitaries? Hah! I’ll bet those moments were more honorable than my own actions!”
Celestia stops, her body becoming tense.
“If you think vulgar insults are going to bring me down to your level, then you’re mistaken…”
“You were below my level before I was even born, when you cared more about ruling a nation than your own sister!”
Oh svist...
In an instant, before I can even comprehend her movement, Celestia gives a bloody-curling scream and appears in front of me. The sheer heat of her anger causes me to squeeze my eyes shut, yet the sudden and absolute fear I feel keeps me frozen in place.
After several seconds of dealing with the blistering heat, I open my eyes a crack. Celestia is standing inches from me. I can hear the crackling of raw magic from her palms. Something much more alarming appears to be affecting the Queen however.
She trembles in place, her eyes locked shut and her teeth gritting. I refuse to move, even with the extreme temperatures boiling my skin.
I catch movement from behind Celestia. Both her Celestial Guards have left their posts, quietly approaching us. They both hold their halberds forward in a striking position, the weapons aiming not for me, but the Queen.
Celestia opens her eyes. Her original magenta irises are gone, replaced with a sickly shade of yellow. Maroon strands bleed out from the yellow, threatening to infect the whites of her eyes. The Queen’s breathing is erratic and her eyes twitch, like she’s fighting against something trying to take over her mind.
She blinks again. The sinister colors are no longer there. Celestia backs away from me, the heat dropping away; her Celestial Guards instantly jumping back to their original posts, although I can tell they’re watching her movements.
“Get her out of here,” Celestia’s quivering words are barely audible. “Not just from my throne room, but from my country. If I see her face again within Equestria’s borders…”
One of the Celestial Guards nods behind me. I hear armor plates shifting as a pair of hands grabs onto my arms, frantically pulling me away. Even through the armor, I can feel the trembling from the Riot Guard. Suffice to say, everyone in that room feared for their existence moments ago.
36 th of Chillwind, Hour 19 – Canterlot Castle, Captain of the Guard’s Quarters – Solaria’s POV
“You have 30 minutes to gather what you need.”
The shaken tone from the Riot Guard is obvious, but I couldn’t fault him for it. I felt the same.
A horrible pain is emanating from my wrists. I look at them, seeing two rectangular sear marks where the shackles had been. Celestia’s rage must have caused them to burn my wrists.
With the Inhibitor Ring still attached to my horn, I’m unable to magically heal the burns. I rush into my bathroom, finding a green plant with tentacle-like tendrils upon the windowsill. I grab one of the Chamatriloe tendrils, breaking off the rock-hard limb. When I do so, the plant’s juices flood from the break. I hold my wrists under the liquid, almost feeling instant relief from the pain.
I dry off my wrists, returning to my primary living area.
That, by far, was the second-most terrifying experience of my life. What’s more concerning was that mental struggle Celestia had going on. It must’ve been something major, considering her blood-oathed Celestial Guards were ready to impale her…
Without any further knowledge, my curiosity slowly fades, being replaced with outrage and betrayal.
She’s deporting me! That sniveling shakira! If I ever get the chance, I’ll destroy her...
I walk to my armor closet, flinging open the doors.
Sitting right where it belongs is my Captain of the Guard armor. The purple and gold plates, ornate with spiraling silver patterns, is in pristine condition, even more so than when I had worn it yesterday.
“At least one thing’s looking up,” I mutter.
I pull the armor’s pauldrons from the rack, throwing them onto my bed. The Equestrian flag, a sun and moon surrounded by the Royal Sisters, was attached to the pauldrons.
If Celestia no longer wants me as a member of her country, than I no longer wish to carry its flag…
I tear at the patches with my fingers, the action proving to be ineffective.
Reaching under my bed, I draw a military-sanctioned combat knife. I unsheathe the blade, using it instead to remove the patches. This method is much more effective.
After both are destroyed, I drop the knife and retrieve a glass-plated plaque from above my bed. Sitting within are the medals I had earned throughout my extensive service. I rip the plaque from the wall and throw it against the wall across from me with a vengeful scream. The glass shatters on impact, scattering the medals.
The door opens. To my surprise, in walks Lieutenant Captain Armor.
I become defensive.
“Here to throw your share of the verbal assaults?”
He gives me a hurt look.
“Do you think so low of me? You know I would never do that.”
“Yeah? So did everyone else when I became Captain.”
I turn back to my armor closet, removing the full chest-plate.
“Why are you here,” I ask as I start to attach the armor piece.
“I want to know what really happened,” Armor says. “I don’t believe you deserve such a punishment.”
“Do you honestly mean that, or are you saying what I want to hear?”
“I don’t know!” Armor say, frustratedly. He begins to pace around.
“Half of the Guard is saying you deserved it, the other half is saying you didn’t! I don’t know what to believe!”
“Hmph, believe what you want, Armor, but listen to me when I say this: have faith in your fellow soldiers, but do not trust any of them. That right there is what I failed to do when I was Captain. Look at where it got me.”
“That seems like a lonely way of living,” Armor says.
“Would you rather have temporary friends, or be betrayed in the end?”
After the last armor piece is attached to my body, I slip on the helmet. From my closet, I pull out a large survival pack, filled with enough gear to last me a few days in the wilds. My knife is slipped into the bag.
I make my way to the door with Armor following. I stop, turning to face him.
“You’re too kind, Armor. It’s your one major flaw. Just, take my advice, will you? Don’t trust anyone, especially alicorns.”
I salute him. He returns the gesture. I knock on the door. After a few seconds, one of the three Riot Guards open it.
“Alright, let’s go,” he says.
I don’t respond. He places new cuffs around my wrists and begins to guide me away.
“Don’t screw up my army, Armor!” I shout back to the Lieutenant Captain. My party of four slowly makes out way away from the castle, out into Canterlot itself.
35 th of Chillwind, Hour 19, Canterlot, MagLev Station – Solaria’s POV
Fortunately, the Riot Guards escorting me didn’t care where I was dropped, just as long as it was away from Canterlot. I chose Vanyda , the closest city in the northwest to the Minotaur Lands.
The walk itself is boring. Not a single Canterlot resident is bothered or even intrigued by the sight of a soldier in cuffs being led to the MagLev station. Although, what did I expect from such a self-righteous city.
The party enters into the station, catching the MagLev as it pulls up to the station. We receive our tickets, free of charge, and waste no time boarding the back-end car of the transport.
Upon entry, I notice the car is devoid of any other passengers.
Huh, that’s a welcome addition…
I sit down a few seats back from the entrance, placing my pack underneath the seat and falling onto the silver-cushioned chair.
The conductor calling for final boarding echoes through the communication speakers.
The outer doors begin to close. At that moment, I see the familiar colors of gold and bronze Royal Guard armor leap through the doors at the last second.
The owner of said armor is none other than Major Glaze, instantly recognizing her blue-toned mane.
The Riot Guards on board are as confused as I am.
“What are you doing here,” One of the three stands up to confront Glaze’s sudden appearance. “We requested that no one rides with us.”
“There’s been a change of plans,” Glazes says. “Lieutenant Captain Shining Armor gave the order for me to join you.”
What are you up to, Armor…
“And what makes him think he has any say in this?”
“He wanted the presence of a Royal Guard, considering she—” Glaze gestures to me. “—was our Captain. And there’s fact that I’m the one who has access to her Inhibitor Ring. But if you want to take it up with him and Celestia…”
At the mention of Celestia’s name, the Riot Guard shrinks back.
“Fine,” he grumbles. “But if anything goes wrong, it’s your head.”
He sighs, sitting back down. Glaze sits as well, taking a seat in the row ahead of me.
A conductor begins the MagLev safety speech over the intercom, asking passengers to attach the harnesses across their chests.
After several minutes, the MagLev passes beyond Canterlot’s outer walls. The boosters on the transport engage, increasing the speed of the vehicle from 60 kilometers per hour to around 500 in half a minute. Almost immediately, the MagLev passes through stabilization rings, removing the intense effect of the g-force.
I unbuckle the belt harness, staring at the mountainside flashing by.
Okay, Canterlot’s behind me. All I need to do is make it to Vanyda, then I’ll be free of these nuisance Riot Guards. I have to wonder though, why would Armor ask Glaze to join us, if he even did at all? Hmm…
With nothing better to do, I attempt to gain some additional sleep in preparation for the journey I had ahead of me.
35 th of Chillwind, Hour 25 – MagLev – Solaria’s POV
I’m awakened from my restless napping by a hand shaking my shoulder. Blinking, I lift my head to see Glaze peering at me from over her seat. I open my mouth to speak, but Glaze puts a finger to her mouth. She glances at the Riot Guards, two of which are asleep and the third not present. I ignore her warning and whisper to her.
“What are you doing here?”
“We couldn’t let it happen to you,” she whispers back after another look at the Riot Guards.
“We? What’s—”
“I can’t explain now,” Glaze interrupts. “But be prepared to get yourself out of here before we reach Vanyda.”
Glaze stands up from her seat, causing one of the Riot Guards to awake. He watches her as she exits through a door connecting the cars before returning to his slumber.
The door opens again seconds later. The absent Riot Guard walks in, carrying two trays of various food.
“How far are we from Vanyda,” I ask him.
“Like I know,” he snorts, opening a package from the tray. “We passed Shalecoast about five minutes ago.”
“Okay, and do you plan on sharing any of that?”
He rolls his eyes, tossing me a small pack of complementary crackers and a bottle of water.
Oh well, better than nothing.
I stare out the window, watching the snow-covered fields of northwestern Equestria blur by as I devour the little amount of food provided to me.
==|000|==
Nearly a half hour had passed since Glaze spoke with me. Since that time, she’d re-entered the car, sitting a row behind me.
The MagLev’s speed had decreased, a sign that we would be reaching Vanyda soon. The Riot Guards were gathering their gear as both Glaze and I remain in our seats. For the past ten minutes, I was tensely waiting for Glaze’s next move as I watched the fields and plains change to thick spruce trees.
An array of bright colors flashes by as the MagLev cuts through the rainbow arch of Hope Hollow.
My ears catch the sound as Glaze shifting, followed by the ethereal hum of magic.
“For my brother…” I hear Glaze whisper as the Inhibitor Ring around my horn falls away.
I catch the eyes of the Riot Guards. All four of us remain frozen.
In an instant, complete chaos erupts in the car.
With my ability to access magic again, I ignite Thundercrack and cast it, focusing the effects onto the Guards. As all three reach for their weapons, a deafening, thunderous crack explodes from my palm. Only the Riot Guards hear it however, as all three shriek and collapse to their knees. I use this period of distraction to break off the shackles and draw out the knife I had hidden in my pack.
By this point, one of the Guards has slightly recovered from the spell. He’s too late to react, as I lunge forward and drive my knife into an exposed portion of his neck. He gives a dazed cry before collapsing. I pull out the knife as he falls with a wet squelch.
A second Riot Guard recovers, drawing a sidearm from his belt. He activates in and aims for me, but I cast Telekinesis and use it to throw off his shot. The MCB round strikes against the glass of a window, causing a small crack to appear.
I close the distance between us before he can fire again, swinging at his chest with my knife. He steps back and tries to pistol-whip me. I catch his hand and with a quick jab, pierce his arm with the knife.
As he gasps in pain, I slip the pistol from his hand, flip it around, and fire three rounds into his chest. The first round deflects off his armor, but the other two find their way to exposed flesh, searing through it. The Guard silently gasps, grasping the new holes, before falling like the first.
I hear the whir of another sidearm charging. I spin around and cast a shield spell the width of the walkway between chairs, dropping my weapon in the process. A shot fires as my shield is cast.
The third Riot Guard has his firearm pointing at me, but I notice from the smoking hole in his unprotected head that the shot didn’t come from him.
Crouching in the space in front of her seat is Glaze, her own sidearm’s barrel giving off a faint wisp of smoke. I disable the shield spell and walk over to her.
I place a hand on her arm, carefully trying to grab her attention. She jumps at my touch, flailing the weapon around with a wild glean in her eyes.
“Hey, calm down Glaze! It’s over!”
Glaze looks around, quickly spotting the dead Riot Guards. She drops her weapon.
“Oh sweet Celestia, what have I done?!” she moans. Her hands press against her head.
“You did what you had to do,” I reply. “Now, tell me what caused this.”
“Celestia— Celestia wasn’t going to let you go. She ordered you to be executed at Vanyda. You were to be taken from the Riot Guards under classified orders, then killed by… a firing squad. The LC found out. He— he didn’t want this to happen, so he told me to go with you… Ohh, this whole plan is falling to svist…”
“Hey, you did good. I’m still alive.”
We both stand.
I grab a baton from one of the Riot Guards. Using it like a pike, I strike the nearest window several times. After a few strikes, a small hole starts to appear. I drop the baton and ignite Telekinesis, using the spell to rip the remaining glass away from the window.
I walk to where my pack is, grabbing and slipping it onto myself. Returning to the broken window, Glaze stops me.
“Good luck, Captain,” Glaze says, casually saluting me.
“Thank you, Glaze. I won’t forget this.”
She draws and offers me her sidearm, a determined look appearing on her face.
“Avenge my brother.”
I grab the sidearm and secure it in my pack.
“I doubt we’ll see each other again after this,” I say.
“Just do what you need to do.”
“Also, forgive me for this.”
Before Glaze can respond, I throw a punch, striking her on the jaw. She drops to the floor, unconscious.
Facing the window, I poke my head through, instantly being whipped by the freezing wind. Using my arm to block it, I see I have a 20-meter drop awaiting me. Up ahead, a small clearing comes into view. I pull myself back into the car and watch for the clearing to line itself up with me while igniting Teleportation.
When I’m aligned with the clearing, I cast the spell.
A white flash fills my vision for a split second. Almost instantly, the whiteness fades as I feel myself fall for a half-meter before my feet strike the snow-covered ground.
I turn around, watching the MagLev continue on its path towards Vanyda.
May the creator be with you, Frosty Glaze.
Now officially alone, and without adrenaline rushing through my body, the colder air sends faint chills along my back.
I didn’t think this through fully…
I clear the snow from a spot on the ground and sit. A map is taken from my pack. I unfold it and find my approximate location.
Okay, about 60 kilometers northwest is the closest settlement besides Vanyda. I think it’s that hamlet I was at before. That’s a good enough spot for me to find more supplies and shelter.
After plotting my course with help from a compass, I re-fold the map and place it back in the pocket. I take a deep breath and start my journey northwest.
Author's Note
Chapter 3 is coming soon.
Here's a better explanation of the spells used if you're interested, written in this Google Doc .
--Thanks to HoneyBacho for assisting with editing and world continuity
Year 2532, 35 th of Chillwind, Hour 33 – Northwood Forest, Unnamed Hamlet – Solaria’s POV
I had come within sight of the hamlet around an hour ago, watching the dim light of the sun fade away behind the mountains and clouds. I took some time to set up a small fire, waiting a few hours before I would be heading into the hamlet.
Throughout my short time in the wilderness, I’ve already encountered a major issue. After leaving the MagLev, the snowstorm had increased in fury. Almost a foot of additional snow is coating the ground. It is a nightmare, especially for one that shares the desert-dwelling blood of the Hisanhariin. Any temperature below freezing could easily become detrimental for my health.
Why do those idiotic leathersacks have to be up north…
Fortunately, there’s no wind present with the storm, and the fire I built burns strong. I would love nothing more than to remain where I was, enjoying the warmth, but I had a task that needed completion.
I levitate a large ball of snow from the ground with Telekinesis, dumping it onto the blazing fire. A loud hiss and a burst of steam later, the fire is no more. I gather my pack and make my way down the hillside I’m on.
Going down is a difficult process. The thick snowfall is obscuring my vision and the fresh layer under my feet didn’t help. Several times, I catch myself against spruce trunks as the snow-covered slopes cause me to slip.
I reach the bottom, being greeted by the gentle current of an ice-cold river. Even thinking of the five-meter-thick water flow causes more shivers.
Faraking cold…
I scan across the river, finding an old wood fishing dock along the far bank. Teleportation is ignited and cast, causing me to flash over onto the structure. As I drop onto the surface, my foot slips on the wet snow. My arms flail as I try to regain balance. Unable to find my footing properly, I cast Teleportation again, flashing forward ten meters or so.
Instead of falling back into the river, I fall onto a snow-covered stone path.
This weather will cause me to go insane!
I carefully stand, testing each step as I slowly make my way into the hamlet. Eventually, the snow fades back, revealing a cobblestone street sitting under the orange glow of several streetlamps. Ahead down the gentle uphill road sits two smaller buildings, one on each side. No lights are within the structures.
I walk up past the two rustic buildings, coming to the single crosswalk of the town; the same one the gunship was sitting at a day ago.
On the opposite side of the crosswalk sits two more small buildings, the right one sporting a sign that reads: Tankard’s Trading Post. I walk over to the shop, remaining wary of any potential activity.
Further down the now-level street, my ears catch the sound of merry cheering. Glancing that way, I see bright lights coming from a larger wooden building.
Drunken idiots. It’s no wonder how the Minotaurs can continue to raid this place without any worries…
Still, as a precaution, I ignite and cast Life Detection, applying enough Energy to increase the base radius out to 100 meters. Several blue dots of energy pop into my vision, all located within the tavern. As I see no other signatures anywhere within the hamlet, I cancel out the spell.
In the clear, I move over to the trading post’s large single pane window, peering into the store. It is dark within, but I could make out four rows of stocked shelves, set perpendicular from the front wall. I give another glance towards the bar before stepping over to the doorway into the trading post.
I grab the handle, testing it to see if the door is locked, which it is.
Good thing I don’t have an issue with breaking and entering…
I ignite Telekinesis, grab onto the three sets of hinges along the door, and rip them from their place. The hinges are released from my grasp; my magical energy shifts to the door, carefully lowering it to the ground without making a sound.
I step into the trading post, igniting the spell, Illumination. A bright white light sparks into existence, shining out from above my head. I tone down the brightness and change the color from white to orange, making it identical to a small candle’s glow.
I begin moving my way through the shelves in search for anything valuable for my journey. The first row yields nothing worthwhile. I traverse on to the next, only to have a reflection of the Illumination spell catch my eye.
The cause of the reflection is a glass case.
The simplistic wooden case itself is nothing special, but the wide array of hunting and survival tools inside were more than enough to gather my attention.
Without a second thought, I strike the glass with my fist, the gauntlet protecting my hand from the shards as the pane loudly breaks. I peel away the remaining glass, letting it fall to the ground.
I pull out a sheathed hatchet from the case and examine it. The tool is well-made, with the silver-toned axe-head contrasting the dark wood handle. I slip it into my pack and move on to the next row.
Despite knowing that no guards were stationed in this backwater hamlet, I quicken my pace as I comb through the remaining rows. By the end, my pack contains several extra packs of preserved foods, a wool blanket, collapsible single tent, bedroll, flashlight, and a simple pocket watch.
Along the wall parallel with the shelves were several clothing displays. Most were empty, but one holds two-toned, dull brown cloak. I grab it and throw it into my pack.
A beam of light flashes across the store from the window.
I freeze and immediately cancel Illumination, swiveling my ears about in a vain attempt to hear a sound. The light beam crosses the trading post’s interior again before going out.
Alright, one of two bets. It’s either a drunken resident, or a Pegasus guard. Since I can’t hear stumbling, I’m going to go with my second choice.
Moving as quietly as I can in half-plate armor, I slowly make my way deeper into the building. With my heart pounding, I sneak my way along the rows, looking down each to try and spot my potential discoverer.
As I reach the second row from the door, my muzzle is struck by the grip of a pistol. I yelp, more-so from surprise than pain, falling back. Around the corner steps a Pegasus mare, wearing the silver armor of an Intercity Guard.
“Don’t move,” the Guard orders, keeping her weapon trained on me while reaching for shackles.
Svist…
The Guard loses her focus on me for half of a second while searching for her cuffs. I take that moment to ignite Telekinesis and shove her feet out from under her.
She lets out a yelp as she falls prone on top of me. I block the impact with my arms, before throwing my fist into the side of her head. She takes a moment to recover; I grab her weapon and toss it away. In a tangle of limbs and a flurry of grunts and curses, we both wrestle for control. For the first seconds, neither of us can gain control. In the end, my larger and stronger Hisan-Unicorn form wins the wrestling match. I manage to throw her away from me into the edge of a shelf.
The entire row stumbles from her impact, sending its contents onto the ground.
I climb to my feet and run for the doorway.
Sudden pain explodes from my back as I feel both her feet strike me in a drop kick. I gasp and brace as I’m thrown from the building into the street.
She draws a baton and charges at me. I cast Telekinesis again, using the spell to simply hold her back as I recover from the impact. I hear the guard cry out in surprise, cursing under her breath as she tries to free herself. Once I can concentrate better, I switch to the Drowse spell and focus all my efforts into breaking through her mental barrier.
The spell does its job; the Guard’s head nods and her body falls limp in my telekinetic grasp. I drop her body to the ground with a crash.
I groan, feeling the pain in my back from her kick.
“You Pegasi may be thin and weak,” I say to the sleeping guard. “but geez, remind me never to get into a one-on-one again with one of you.”
I stand, watching the Pegasus softly snore into the cobbled street before recasting Illumination. I don’t bother to adjust the brightness or color this time.
I drag her unconscious body back into the shop, leaving it in sight of the open doorway. Searching under her unfurled wings, I find a golden-hilted shortsword sheathed at her right hip. With my knife, I cut the strap and stow the blade into my pack.
Not wanting to spend anymore time in this hamlet, I sheathe my dagger and leave the trading post. With my pack fully stocked, I use my compass to find northeast again and head out at a steady jog.
37 th of Chillwind, Hour 37 – Frozen North, Minotaur Lands – Solaria’s POV
I feel the frustration in my chest grow stronger as the leather layers of my tent violently shake from the blizzard winds. Even though I had camped underneath a jagged rock overhang, hoping to escape such effects, the howling winds still threatened to tear away the walls of my tent.
In a lasting effort to keep myself from freezing to death, I had set up a magical fire within my tent using the Burning Embers spell.
But even with the fire, tent, and blockage from the wind, my body is still shivering from the cold. I tried to help remove the chills further by consuming my last MRE, but it only lasted for a few minutes. Not even the cloak, which I had discovered was a cheap synthetic mess, did anything to improve my condition.
Stupid Hisanhariin blood! Why couldn’t these Minotaurs exist in the south where it’s warm?!
Sitting here and letting my anger fester would do me no good. I release the cloak from around my shoulders. Best I can, I sit up straight and try to hold still. Twisting my wrists as magic flows to my palms, I cancel Burning Embers and cast Magical Meditation.
I close my eyes, allowing the spell’s effects to take over my mind. Seconds pass as I only see black, before my vision is filled with rippling waves. The waves fade from black to earth brown.
As the brown shifts into a vibrant red, the shimmering waves transform into star-like streaks that zip by my head. The colors change into orange before going black again.
When I open my eyes, I’m no longer in the claustrophobic and freezing tent. Instead, I’m standing upon soft, green grass. The sky is not gray and cloudy, rather being tinted in shades of red, orange, and yellow. The sweet melody of birds singing and leaves gently rustling reaches my ears.
I take in the view of my Meditative Plane, feeling a great sense of calmness fall upon me. Small floating islands, connected to the main island by simple wood bridges, remain suspended in the air.
I stride forward down a path, following the cliff edge of the forested main island. After passing underneath several hanging branches, I step onto a wooden bridge spanning a small creek.
From the bridge, off to the left, a mountain stretches into the sky. The peak is bathed in a dull red wash. I admire the sight for a moment, before continuing along the path.
After walking along the path for several minutes, I come upon a simple wood balcony, hanging off the edge of the island. Out from the rustic porch is the source of the brilliant colors that lit my Plane.
I lie on the edge of the balcony, hanging my legs over as my body rejuvenates from its various injuries. I continue to lie there, feeling the warmth and relaxation.
Too bad I can’t stay here forever.
The hours pass in my Plane as even more do in reality. Eventually, I stand from my spot and start to practice the magical spells I know. As each spell is cast, I can feel my abilities grow more efficient, and my magic pool become stronger.
Without warning, the relaxation comes to an end. My entire Plane is rumbling from a non-existent earthquake. Mental alarms begin to sound, telling me the rumbling is from beyond my Plane. I ignite Magical Meditation again and cast it, reversing the effects that brought me here until my vision is once again black.
38 th of Chillwind, Hour 10 – Frozen North, Minotaur Lands – Solaria’s POV
I jolt back to consciousness, still feeling the rumbles as I did in my Plane, albeit less extreme.
With practiced strokes, I attach my armor plates to myself in minutes. By the time I finish strapping on my helmet, the rumbles have ceased.
I slowly unzip my tent and step out, carefully observing my surroundings. The blizzard’s passed, letting gray light filter under the rock overhang. Nothing is here with me, but quiet voices flutter to my ears from above.
Straining my ears, I try to listen to the words.
“I swear, chief! I saw an elk! Right here!” a deep ragged voice cries out.
A dull whack is followed by another cry.
“You moron! You brought me all the way out here for nothing!”
I stop listening at this point, moving back to my tent.
Great, just what I needed: stupid Minotaurs…
I pause.
Wait a minute… did that one say ‘chief?’
My pondering is cut short as an aggressive roar echoes under the overhang. I spin around, catching a massive form leap at me. I swiftly back step. The Minotaur, as I can now see, crashes into my tent. It becomes tangled with the leather, destroying it in the process.
I ignite Magical Bolt into my palms, drawing back my arms. As I thrust my hands forward, a pink flash of energy blasts out, carving a clean hole through the Minotaur.
Several loud and heavy-sounding thumps come from behind me.
Eleven Minotaurs jump down from above the rock overhang, each branding a large stone Warhammer or sharpened battle-axe.
All of them bear a insignia of a shattered hammer on a bandolier or a belt.
One of them steps forward. The same chieftain that had escaped my grasp days ago now stands before me.
Whatever fear that had built in me is instantly replaced by hatred and anger. I feel my muzzle twist into a raging snarl.
“Looks like you were right,” the chieftain says. “Although this is not an elk, but a Unicorn mare…”
His eyes flash to the scene behind for a moment.
“This one has fire in her,” he snorts. “That’s good! She will be fun to break!”
“I want her armor!” one yells out.
“Who cares about armor,” another says. “I want her… ”
“None of you will get anything while she remains free!” The chieftain points to me with his Warhammer. “GET HER!!”
They all step forward.
I chuckle, the action causing them to freeze.
“She’s laughing?” a Minotaur questions.
As my laughter grows, it is cut short, swapping into a vengeful yell. I ignite Thunderbolt into my palms. The grief of Stronghold and the loss of my home, combined with the pure rage against Celestia and this chieftain, causes me to see nothing but red.
Taarg’s POV
This day had been exciting. While on patrol, Burnk said he found an elk, the first in many months! Sadly, the elk wasn’t real, which left all of us disappointed.
Until, we found another Anthow! She was a pretty one, at least from what I could tell beyond that armor. It would be another slave to toy with.
As we were ready to claim our prize however, she begins to laugh at us, which is confusing. Why would she laugh at her own doom?
Her laughing changes to yelling as lightning appears upon her hands and arms. Her eyes and horn begin to glow a purplish white as she menacingly steps towards us.
We look to Chief Borg. He holds a look of absolute terror, which is unexpected from such a brave warrior as him.
I look back to the Unicorn. She throws her arms out from her, causing a clear wave to fly out from her body. The wave impacts with us, throwing us out into the snow several hammer-lengths.
As I recover from the throwing, thunder begins to rumble above us.
“Thunder?” I say out loud and confused. “Thunder isn’t supposed to be here.”
My confusion is replaced the same terror that Chief Borg had as three lightning bolts fall from the clouded sky, exploding onto the ground where Burnk, Jahg, and For’hd are lying. The shockwave from the blast throws me further away. The last thing I see is Chief Borg’s arm being melted away before snow fills my vision.
I lie in the snow, my hearing a cacophony of ringing. Soon the sound returns.
I wish it hadn’t.
The sounds I hear are not brave war cries and the sounds of clashing weapons, but screams of terror and fear.
I look up from the ground, watching as the Unicorn throws a bolt of lightning from her hand. It flashes through the air, cutting a hole right through Florgn’s head. His body collapses into the snow, spilling steaming blood onto the already red snow.
I feel like puking, but after seeing the death of my friend, I gather what little resolve I had remaining and run to fight this Unicorn.
No, not a Unicorn, but a demoness…
I grab a discarded Warhammer, readying myself to face down this unnatural creature.
Svelg beats me to it, he charges up to her, swinging his hammer down at her smaller form. She catches it without effort, in a single hand! Whatever unholy energy that is coursing through her is making her much stronger than any Unicorn I’d ever seen.
From her free hand, she strikes Svelg in the stomach. He reels back, falling to one knee. She takes his hammer and spins around, connecting the blunt weapon with Svelg’s face.
Terror and shock cause me to freeze as the Warhammer sinks into Svelg with a horrific, echoing crack. His body is thrown away into the snow from the impact.
I look around. Several other Minotaurs have already fled. I do the same. The hammer I’m holding is dropped onto the snow as I turn and try to run from this horror.
My feet slide out from under me, forcing me to fall into the snow as if something grabbed them. My whole body is suddenly pulled in the direction of the demoness.
I scream, clawing at the snow to try and escape this nightmare.
Pain explodes into my chest as I feel it be pierced with a sharp weapon.
My breathing becomes erratic, my struggling grows weak, and my vision fades to black.
Solaria’s POV
The red from my uncontrollable rage finally begins to pull back, although I still feel it.
I look around the bloodstained tundra, it littered with dead bodies and blackened craters. Only one body still remains alive: the chieftain.
I cancel out Magical Weapon. The transparent red longsword stuck through the chest of the Minotaur on the ground disappears.
I march my way over to the chieftain, cracking my knuckles.
He’s lying in the snow about twenty meters away, his back against a snow drift. As he clutches what remains of his right arm, he sees me approach.
Before he can move, I telekinetically grab the double bandoliers around his chest and pull his face-to-face with me.
“I-I’m sorry,” he whimpers. “I didn’t know! I didn’t know it was y-you!
His feeble cries are ignored.
“I told you,” my voice icily whispers. “I would make you feel more pain than your weak mind could possibly comprehend.”
“Pl…please…” He begs again.
“You believe I should show mercy?” I use a sliver of my telekinetic grasp to start twisting his remaining fingers clockwise. “Why do you deserve it, when you showed none to your own victims.”
I flick my wrist, forcing his fingers to harshly twist with a loud crunch. The chieftain screams. I release him from my grasp, letting his body fall to the ground as tears fall from his eyes.
“What I do to you is only just punishment for the hundreds who have suffered by your hands.”
With Telekinesis still ignited, I latch onto his legs, causing every bone within them to shatter. His cries of anguish are louder than ever.
I wait for his screams to fade.
“H-how can, one b-be so cruel…” he moans out.
I don’t respond, rather igniting Magical Weapon. The spell summons a longsword, red and translucent like the shortsword was.
I drive the blade forward, piercing it through the chieftain’s chest. He gasps, complete fear in his wide eyes.
“Think of it as your penance…” I hiss. His head lolls back, the tension in his body disappearing.
I turn away from the chieftains mutilated body. My tent’s been trampled and stained from melted flesh. I use Telekinesis to heave the corpse off before digging around for my survival pack.
Thankfully, it remains unharmed. It’s slipped onto my back after my bedroll is tied to the top and the cheap cloak is wrapped around my shoulders. I leave the overhang, facing east. A dark shape catches my eye in the North.
Around 50 kilometers away is the largest and darkest winter storm I’ve ever witnessed. It stretches across the sky from east to west, big enough so that I couldn’t see its ends. It is moving south and breakneck speeds, and I’m in its way. I could tell based on its position, it would reach Equestria long before I would. Not even the forest surrounding the border would protect me from this natural disaster.
This would drain my magic completely before I would make it to the border…
I turn west and start to sprint through the snow. My path is cut short by a steady slope down. With a glance back at the storm, I look out over the tundra, checking the horizon.
My only choice is to teleport.
I ignite and cast Teleportation, flashing into existence at my presumed horizon. As I’m a few meters in the air, I catch myself with Telekinesis and drop lightly into the snow. A twinge of strain is felt in the back on my mind.
Okay, teleporting that far after a fight isn’t the best idea…
To allow my magic pool to regenerate, a rest would be required. Unfortunately, the storm that is fast approaching isn’t allowing such a luxury. Regardless of my teleportation, that blizzard would be on top of me within hours.
I climb to my feet and continue my run northeast. Based on the map, a safe zone with a Minotaur settlement is around 300 kilometers out. Despite the population, that settlement would be the safest place for me.
I would rather deal with creatures I can kill than the unstoppable force of nature…
39 th of Chillwind, Hour 17 – Frozen North, near the settlement – Solaria’s POV
Despite the freezing temperatures and abnormal number of overpowered blizzards, I find myself within sight of the settlement. I couldn’t let my resolve fade however, as every step I take drains more of my energy. My magic, even with several rests, was nearly drained again.
Suffice to say, I’m an utter mess. Only the current calm between storms, the hope of warmth, and my fueled anger towards a certain Queen had kept me from giving up.
Three faraking snowstorms in a single day! It’s no wonder the Minotaurs have such trashy attitudes.
As I stumble through the gates of the settlement, a massive bonfire nearby beckoned my attention. I shuffle to the fire, collapsing onto my knees in front of it and crawling as close as I can.
Never did warmth of fire feel so amazing. I fall back onto the hard ground, relieved to not be lying on snow for once.
Eventually, as my body begins to regain its senses, I notice several eyes on me. Several Minotaurs around the fire are staring. Their staring, I assume, is nothing beyond curiosity for seeing an Anthow’piovel in such a place. Still, it is extremely uncomfortable and annoying.
In an act of intimidation, I ignite a Fire Element spell, using it to make my arms appear on fire. I snarl at the closest Minotaurs, leering as I do. They flinch back and avert their gazes but stay near the fire. I cancel the spell, satisfied that the peering had stopped.
For an hour, I remain in my place, recuperating from my terrible journey. The time is rather peaceful, with the weather currently calm and the residents leaving me be, it allowed me to simply relax for once.
Heavy footsteps fall behind me. Before I can react, a large arm wraps around my neck and lift me off my feet. I gasp as its grip tightens. I press my armored palms onto the arm, igniting and casting Flame Throw. Fire leaps from my palms, scorching the arm while leaving me untouched.
The owner to the arm releases me with a scream. I drop back onto my feet and spin around to face the fool that attacked me.
To no surprise, it is a Minotaur. Actually, it is three, all carrying a broken hammer insignia upon their bandoliers. The one who had grabbed me is clutching his arm, whimpering as he stares at his charred skin. The other two step forward, drawing a crossbow and an axe.
In response, I draw my shortsword.
Neither them nor I move.
“Sheathe your weapons! Right now!”
A new voice calls out from my left. Another Minotaur, clad in rusted iron armor that bears the same symbol of the settlement’s flag, raises a crossbow in the general direction of our stand-off. Four more Minotaurs wearing identical armor to the first copy his actions.
I comply with the guard’s request and slowly sheathe my sword. They all shift their focus to the three Minotaurs that attacked me.
“Are you all deaf?” the guard barks. “I said sheathe your weapons!”
“She killed Chief Borg!” One of my attackers protests while waving a finger at me. “And she attacked us first!”
“Knowing you Hytori scum, you probably started it!” the guard yells. “Your clan isn’t welcome in Norrg’kl, so if you aren’t here to buy or trade, leave!”
The Hytori Minotaurs glare at the guards, then at me. They’re forcefully escorted to the gates by four of the five guards.
“And you,” the original guard points in my direction. “If I catch you causing any trouble here, I’ll throw you out just like them, got it?!”
He stalks off before I can get a word in.
Good to know that all Minotaurs are still dicks…
I’m alone at the bonfire, the presence of this Clan Hytori seeming to have plagued the area.
I can’t leave this place, not yet. Even if I held enough magic to survive the blizzards, those Hytori leathersacks would be lying in wait. I need a safe place to increase my Pool. I doubt I’d be welcome in any home, and living on the streets would not be ideal. Even one blizzard could easily kill me. Hmm… I wonder how receptive the shop’s here would be to trade shelter for work…
Off to my left, across from the gate is a cluster of buildings and market tents. Several Minotaurs are mingling about as they buy and sell to each other.
No better place to search than there…
I make my way to the marketplace, my goals set.
Author's Note
As always, leave your comments!
Here's a better explanation of the spells used if you're interested, written in this Google Doc .
--Thanks to HoneyBacho for assisting with editing and world continuity
Year 2532, 39 th of Chillwind, Hour 18 – Norrg’kl, Markets – Solaria’s POV
At first glance, the market area had appeared to be a decent, active place with plenty of opportunities. Upon closer inspection however, I quickly discover that I overestimated its value.
The primary activity is amongst the first few open stalls. Beyond that, it ceased to exist. Even more so, working in an exposed stall would not be ideal. Without entering into the area, I can see at least seven structures that could potentially house businesses.
On top of the fact that every shop owner I can see is a Minotaur, the odds were not looking to be in my favor.
Walking past the first few stalls, I catch several stares of curiosity, but ultimately the general populace ignores my presence.
The first building is a smaller structure, made from old, worn wood. I push the door in, stepping into the shop.
The pungent smell of herbs strikes my muzzle. Lining the walls and display shelves are several types of plants, ranging from common to exotic. As expected, a Minotaur is behind the counter. He—
Wait, are female Minotaurs a thing even?
—is arguing with another Minotaur customer, aggressively bartering for prices. While the two go at it, I take a closer look at some of the more exotic plants. One that caught my eye is a striking teal color with the outline of the leaves glowing white. Faint wisps of frost fall from the plant, melting away as it touches the display rack.
“Aren’t you an interesting sight.”
I turn to the voice. The Minotaur bartering with the owner leaves, slamming the door behind him.
“Didn’t know Anthow’s could make it this far…” The shopkeeper says.
“Contrary to what you might think,” I snark. “My kind can survive in these harsh conditions, just like yours.”
“That’s not what I meant.” He creepily licks his lips, narrowing his eyes at me.
Alarms go off in my mind.
“You know what?” I gesture to the door, stepping back. “I think I’ll just leave.”
“Why do that? You just got here,” he moves around the counter, quickly stepping his way over to me.
When he comes within touching range, I charge magic into my hand and ignite Kinetic Dispersion, striking his chest with my palm with as much force as I can muster. My jab itself does nothing to the beast. The spell on the other hand diverts all the kinetic energy from the strike to his groin.
The Minotaur switches from confident strides to wailing on the ground, clutching his nethers. I spit onto the floor in front of his face.
“Disgusting beast. That’ll teach you not to mess with an Anthow’piovel again…”
Leaving the Minotaur to suffer from the consequences of his actions, I exit the shop into the snow-dusted streets. To the left of the plant shop I had left is another.
Inside is more packed than the last shop. It’s darker as well. The whole vibe of the interior was creepy, it sends chills through my spine.
I’m going to listen to my gut and not bother with this place…
I back out and cross the street. This time, a much larger shop awaits me. Through the single-pane window in the door, I can see a bar with two Minotaurs sitting at it.
No way in Tartarus am I going to work at a Minotaur-infested bar. I’m not that desperate, yet…
Another shop remains, next to the bar. It is similar in size to the herbal shop. I step inside, apprehensive of what might be awaiting me. Within, various pelts line the walls, ranging from small fox pelts to large unidentifiable creature pelts.
Another Minotaur is behind the counter, reading a small book. He gives me a disinterested glance before returning to his material.
I slowly walk up to the counter, surprised by his reaction.
Well, I’d rather be ignored than patronized any day.
I open my mouth to speak.
“I’ve told Orn’gar several times already, I don’t want anything to do with his repulsive slave trade.” He waves his hand dismissively at me. “Now, run along and bother someone else.”
“Slave trade?? You think I’m a slave?!” I shout, appalled at his assumption. I’m ready to deck this Minotaur like the first.
He looks at me again, this time looking me over.
“Heh, not with that armor you’re not,” he chuckles. “What do you want?”
“To put it plainly,” I curtly say. “I need somewhere out of the cold to stay while I’m here.”
He blankly stares at me.
“And I know such a request wouldn’t be free, so I’m offering my services to your business.”
An awkward silence settles in the room as I wait for a response.
“Look,” the Minotaur says after a minute. “I’m going to be honest here with you, does it look like I need help, let alone afford it?”
“I don’t want coins, just a place to stay.”
“Uh huh, and if I was to take up your offer, the only boost in business my shop would get would be visits from the drunken idiots…”
“Fine!” I snap. “Forget it!”
I flip around and stalk out of the shop.
So far, this entire plan of mine is a failure…
Regardless, I continue on to the next shop down the line. It’s a much newer building, with an actual sign that read “Griffonian Garnishes.” If the name is anything to go by, I would bet the owner is a Griffon.
That’s not much better than a Minotaur, but I can’t be picky… Hopefully, this Griffon won’t be an absolute pile of svist…
I enter the shop, my expectations extremely low. A bell jingles above my head as the door opens then closes behind me. In front of me, on waist-level displays, is a slew of any useless trinket and bauble one can imagine. Along the walls are taller shelves, holding larger and more delicate items, as well as a section devoted to reading material.
Across the room from the front door is the front desk. Behind the counter, its back to me, is a Griffon. It’s wearing a simple leather vest from what I could see. Brown feathers speckled with white streaks lined the Griffon’s head.
I go to speak, only to be cut off by a bout of dry, coarse coughing from the Griffon. After several seconds of the obnoxiousness, it clears its throat and returns its attention to whatever it is on the table in front of it.
I walk up to the counter, clearing my throat to grab the Griffon’s attention. The Griffon’s head perks before twisting around 180 degrees to look at me.
“How may I help you?” The male voice says in Ponish, as coarse as the coughing suggested.
I’m taken aback by the Griffon’s display. Never had I seen a Griffon that had owlish traits, only knowing of the possible combination through various anatomy books. It’s a bit intimidating, especially as his massive yellow eyes stare into my soul.
“Are you by chance in need of assistance with running your business?” I ask after recovering.
He rotates his body around to match his head. A thin smile appears on his hooked beak.
“Well my dear,” he says sweetly. “You can have an answer for that question in exchange for a few coins…”
His clawed hand curls open, awaiting his ridiculous demand.
My professionally neutral expression completely deadpans. I return his stare with one of my own. The grin on his face slowly drops.
“You really think I’m going to give you coins, to have a fifty-fifty chance of working here…”
The Griffon’s smile completely drops into a scowl. As his hand retracts, he coldly responds.
“If you refuse to pay, then I refuse to answer. Good day.”
He turns around.
“Feel free to shop around however,” he quickly adds.
I scoff.
“Have you ever wondered why your race is despised by everyone? This right here is a prime example!”
He doesn’t react.
I growl and spin around, stalking to the front door.
Faraking Griffons… They deserved everything they got…
I ignite Telekinesis in my palm, using the spell to grab the feet of a display case to my right. I flick my wrist. The display is thrown onto its side, spilling the contents onto the ground.
My ears catch a surprised squawk as I exit.
39 th of Chillwind, Hour 29 – Norrg’kl, Front Gates – Solaria’s POV
Well, today was an absolute waste!
The remaining few shops I had yet to inquire were no better than the last. They all were ran by Minotaurs, and like the first, all were extremely disturbing. I did however, leave them with new scars as a reminder not to mess with Anthows.
Besides those shops, the blacksmiths was an option. It would’ve been an excellent place. Unfortunately, a Minotaur also ran it. I decided it wasn’t worth dealing with another perverted leathersack.
Since then, for the rest of the day, I returned to the bonfire and did my best to figure out a solution.
At least I’m left alone here…
The blazing fires were but a temporary fix to my entire problem. It was a source of warmth, but it would not protect me from a storm, nor could it provide food and water. Speaking of, my food had run dry an hour ago, and my water is on its way to being gone as well.
I didn’t have any form of currency on me either, so buying my way into a shelter wasn’t an option either. I was out of choices.
I have a headache…
I stand from my seated position and begin to walk back towards the market. In the sky, the dreary grayness becomes darker. Night is not far away. To make matters worse, in the North, more angry clouds were fast approaching.
Why did I think coming to this forsaken settlement would be a good idea…
I turn to the largest structure, the bar I had seen earlier. A decent flow of Minotaurs were heading in.
I ignore the dread in my stomach and join the flow.
Within the bar, the décor is unexpectantly relaxing. The décor is similar to Equestrian taverns, holding the same amenities and atmosphere. It reminded me of the last bar I had been in almost a century ago.
The nostalgia of it all is lost as shouts from one corner of the bar bring me back to reality. A Minotaur had flipped a table, causing various coins and cards to shower onto the ground. Minotaurs sitting at nearby tables leap from their seats to snatch what they can. The whole scene quickly devolves into a brawl, with others cheering the fight on.
I scoff with disgust, watching as the fight is broken by a pair of guards. The brawlers are separated to opposite corners along the wall, with the guards sitting between.
As the idiotic display ends, I walk up to the bar. Three of the five barstools are taken, with the two farthest on the right unoccupied. I slide into the seat over to the right, leaving a gap between me and the other occupants.
After a few minutes the bartender, also a Minotaur, walks over to me. The expression upon his face causes the hair on my neck to stand.
“I don’t cater to unattended slaves, so if you want something, go find your master.” He leans forward, smiling. “Or, if you provide some special pay, I might change my mind.”
I don’t let his words intimidate me. Meeting his lust-filled gaze with a hardened scowl, I respond.
“I am no one’s slave, you prick. ”
His smile grows wider.
“I believe you… No one could contain such a fiery personality…”
His eyes flit behind me for half of a second.
“For now, at least…”
My ears twist to hear wood scrape on wood. I look over my shoulder to see three Minotaurs stand from the closest table.
“Tell me,” the bartender says as I stand to meet the three. “What brought you here? Your own wanderlust? A safe escape from your enemies? A new life? Well, I can give you a solution.”
As the three Minotaurs saunter over, one speaks.
“Don’t worry, boss,” this one’s voice is comically sniveling. “We’ll take good care of her for you.”
I start to ignite an Offensive spell to handle these fools, but my eye catches the eyes of one of the guards. The smug look on his face tells me all I need to know. The other patrons begin to focus their attention on me as well.
If I can’t fight, I’ll have to flee. My magic is still low though… Farak it, what choice do I have…
With no other options, I draw magic into my palms. Teleportation at this point is too much of a risk, and Ethereal would kill me at this moment if I tried to cast it. Instead, I ignite Time Slow and cast it as the three Minotaurs lunge at me.
A burst of spherical gray energy flies from my body, reaching out to the door. From my vision, the entirety of the bar’s interior has been filtered with a pale tone. Every action taken by others are non-existent, with the three Minotaurs lunging at me barely moving.
As the spell is cast, my mind instantly screams with exhaustion. Wasting no time, I duck under the outreached arms and sprint to the door. I fling it open, cancelling the spell as I reach the streets.
When I cancel Time Slow, I feel unconsciousness threaten to take over my mind. I stumble to the other side of the street, catching myself on the corner of the blacksmith’s building. I manage to circle around back before my legs give out from under me. My arms catch a waist-level chest, which I use to pull myself back up. I rest against the chest, working with all my might to stay conscious.
The calm winds start to pick up. It seems as the blizzard I had spotted in the North is reaching the settlement. Snow starts to lightly fall in succession after the wind.
I try to stand up, but the action causes my head to spin. Dropping back down, I see a small shed next to me. I slide off the chest and crawl over to the shed. The door is locked, only with a simple padlock.
From my pack, I remove the axe. After taking several deep breaths, I pull my arm back and swing the axe into the lock. For the first time this nightmarish trip, I praise my Hisanhariin blood as through the sharpness of the blade and my raw strength, the axe cuts through the lock.
I push the door open, not holding enough strength to retrieve the axe. I find a corner, hidden between two metal shelves, and remove my pack. The wool blanket is pulled out and wrapped around my armored shoulders.
Well, I’m going to die in this forsaken wasteland, cowering in an old shed while Celestia continues to reign as a tyrant…
If I had to give Celestia one thing, it would be her ability to give me motivation.
I can’t let her win… But things aren’t looking well for me… With this storm, I’ll be dead before morning… Okay, I just need to hold out until I can get Exposure active for a while… You can do this…
I brace myself, working with all my remaining might to stay awake through the sickening feelings of magic loss.
39 th of Chillwind, Hour 29 – Norrg’kl, Orn’gar’s Bar - Yorn’s POV
“Don’t worry, boss,” Ked’s sniveling voice says. “We’ll take good care of her for you.”
I stare into my drink, not wanting to watch another Anthow fall into the clutches of Orn’gar again.
If I can’t fight, I’ll have to flee. The Unicorn thinks. My magic is still low though… Farak it, what choice do I have…
I turn to watch her as she pulls magic into her palms. Orn’gar’s thugs lunge at her, as she disappears from sight in a streak of purple and gold. The door bursts open as the Unicorn appears outside. She runs in the direction of my shop before the darkness consumes her form.
Wow, that was truly something extraordinary…
I had heard of the power and majesty of a Unicorn’s magic, but this was the first time I was able to witness it.
I watch as Orn’gar glares out the door before turning to his thugs.
“You idiots!” he yells, smacking the head of Ked. “You let her escape!!”
“S-she couldn’t have gone far,” Ked says. “We-we’ll get her for you, right guys?”
“Du’hn and Ce’eh nod.
“You better,” Orn’gar snarls. “If we take her to them, then we’ll be rich and can leave this rundown svisthole for good!”
The three nod again before leaving after the Unicorn.
Absolute buffoons… I hear Orn’gar think. As if I’ll give them anything…
I stand from my table, walking to the bar and sliding a few Gyffs to Orn’gar. He grunts in acknowledgement. I turn and leave, closing the door behind me as I cross the street to my shop.
I look up at the sky, feeling the howling wind whip my face as snow begins to fall.
That Unicorn isn’t going to survive long with those three after her…
I follow the path I saw the Unicorn take around my shop. Her boot prints were clear as day, with a set of messy hoof marks following. I turn the corner to face my shed, seeing Ked poke at my loose door.
“What are you doing?!” I bark at him.
He jumps, obviously shocked to see me here.
Svist! Act cool, Ked thinks. Don’t let him know what you’re up to.
“Oh, hi Yorn!” he says, pointing at the axe imbedded into my shed. “I was, ah, walking by your shed and saw that there was an axe cutting through your lock, so I thought, ‘Ked, why not be a good soul and investigate for ‘ol Yorn.’
I cross my arms, sizing up to this coward. He shrivels up, stepping away from my shed.
“I lost the key to my shed, so I had to break in to grab something,” I pull the axe from its spot in the door. “I didn’t have time to remove this. Thank you, Ked , for your help.”
“Heh…” Ked laughs, before backing away and leaving my sight.
I wait for a few minutes, making sure that he’s gone before entering into my shed. In the corner, wrapped in a blanket, is the Unicorn. She doesn’t react when I enter. There are no thoughts in her mind, only her frosted breathing indicates that she’s still alive.
I drop the axe and carefully scoop the Unicorn into my arms, taking her from the shed to my back door. With a kick, the door easily opens.
It was no lie when I said a key was lost, just not the one to my shed.
I push open the door connecting my work area and my living area, bringing the unconscious Unicorn in front of my fire and setting her into my rocking chair.
Drukl bounds over to me, excitedly circling my legs before hopping to the Unicorn. He sniffs her boot before gnawing on the metal.
Gnaw…Gnaw…Gnaw… repeats through Drukl’s wolf mind.
“Drukl,” I scold. “Go to your bed!”
He obeys.
I return to the shed, grabbing the blanket, pack, and axe that the Unicorn had with her. When I return, Drukl is chewing on her armor again. He flees to his bed when he sees me return to the home. After setting her stuff next to the chair, I do my best to remove the armor plates attached to her.
This armor is well-made… It’s definitely Equestrian… and this Unicorn, she is unlike any of her kind… They’re soft and fragile, but not her… She is hardened from centuries of war and filled with ancient rage… She has experienced more than I ever will…
It takes me a while, but eventually I remove most of the heavier pieces.
This under-armor is also extraordinary…
I stand and walk to the kitchen, making a small fire under the cooking rack. A bowl is set onto the rack before being half-filled with water.
Looking up from the bowl, Drukl is knowing on her boot again.
“Drukl!” I snap at him.
He looks at me indignantly, before stalking to his bed.
“She’s already been through enough; you don’t need to make her situation worse.”
My focus returns to the beginnings of the stew, but my eye is kept both on my wolf and the sleeping Unicorn.
Author's Note
My gosh this chapter alone sparked more memes and potential side stories than anything else I've done.
Also, yes, I got this chapter out real quick. It was easy to edit, so don't expect this to be the norm. Chapter 5 will take a bit longer, then Chapter 6 will be released on the following weekend after 5's release, with 7-9 following over the next 3 weekends.
I gotta have some form of structure.
Anyways, please leave your comments!
Here's a better explanation of the spells used if you're interested, written in this Google Doc .
--Thanks to HoneyBacho for assisting with editing and world continuity, and memes
Year 2534, 14 th of Year’s End, Hour 30 – Norrg’kl, Yorn’s Workshop – Solaria’s POV
“Alright, that’s good enough for tonight.”
Yorn backs away from his supervising position near the anvil while I dip a burning red rod of metal into the cooling oil. As the metal makes contact, it creates a wave of steam with a sharp hiss. Quickly, the metal cools. I pull it from the liquid, slipping the metal onto a special rack before canceling the magical smithing gloves I created with Mage Armor.
I pull off the heavy blacksmith apron, using an old rag to wipe the sweat from my fur. As I join Yorn in his living room, Drukl comes bounding over to me, circling around my legs before bouncing back to his master.
“Go ahead and get cleaned up. I’ll start working on dinner,” Yorn says, walking into his kitchen area.
“The offer still stands you know,” I say, stopping in the bathroom doorway. “I don’t mind cooking.”
“You may not mind it,” Yorn says, amusement in his voice. “But I refuse to let you cook ever again.”
I roll my eyes.
“It’s not my fault you Minotaurs can’t handle traditional Canterlot meals.”
“Solaria. You turned soup into ash. I didn’t even know such a thing was possible.”
“I—…can’t argue against that…”
I turn into the bathroom and spend some time cleaning up after a long day of work.
==|000|==
“Alright, out with it!” I say, catching Yorn’s eyes for the third time tonight.
So far throughout the entire meal, Yorn had been staring at me, looking away when I caught him.
“It’s Hearth’s Warming Eve,” he eventually says after staying silent for several seconds.
I blankly stare at him for a moment before returning a snarky response.
“Brilliant deduction. In other equally exciting news, there’s a massive blizzard layering the ground with several inches of snow…”
Yorn takes a swig from his tankard.
“No reason to get so snappy, it was just an observation. If I may, why aren’t you more excited?”
“Because,” I begin, the sarcasm heavily lacing my words. “Like I said last year, Hearth’s Warming is a scam to get foolish Anthow’s to waste their hard-earned bits on gifts for friends and family that’ll ultimately be forgotten in a few weeks. I think a more important question, is why are you so obsessed with it?”
“I’m ‘obsessed’ with it, because the holiday represents more than your pessimistic summarization,” Yorn retorts, leaving the table in favor for his rocking chair. I follow him and sit in my own chair across the fire from his.
“From what I’ve read, Hearth’s Warming is the celebration of the bond you share with friends and family, about celebrating your memories and relationships one’s created over the years.”
I scoff, rolling my eyes.
That’s why I hate it…
I wince, realizing the mistake I just made.
“It’s not the gift-giving you hate about the holiday, is it?”
“Can you not just mind your own business for once in your life?” I snap at him.
I sigh.
Perhaps, it would be good for me to tell someone… To get this pain off my chest.
“No, it has nothing to do with the gifts.”
“You can tell me if you wish. I won’t pry,” Yorn says, his voice growing softer.
“Do not pretend to feel sympathetic for me,” I warn. “It will not help.”
I lean back in my rocking chair, resting my left arm on the armrest and resting my head in my hand.
“What I’m about to tell you… will not put me in the best of light, nor will it be easy for me, so… just bear with me,” I say. My mind, voice, and body become tired as the weight of my experiences weighs upon me. I think over how to start and what to say.
“Hearth’s Warming,” I begin. “used to mean something to me. In fact, it was my favorite holiday, because it guaranteed time with…”
I pause, feeling my composure slip. I take a moment to regain it before continuing.
“…with my father.”
The memories of him resurface after being submerged for so long. I give a single, soft laugh.
“Or rather my foster father. Those days of flying down the stairs to see him after his long days of working were some of the best memories I hold. I never cared about the small gifts he could afford to bring me, I only ever wanted to spend time with him.”
“Were you poor?” Yorn asks. “What of your mother?”
The happy memories burn away, being replaced with vile ones. My reminiscing voice shifts to a hard and angry tone.
“…My father was poor because he had a daughter to care for. My ‘mother’… was worse than the Canterlot Elite…”
I narrow my gaze at the fire, my face twisting into a scowl.
“She was loaded, making enough as Captain of the Guard to rival some lower-end Elites. But, since she hated me, she wouldn’t use a single bit to provide for me. My father was so angry at her, even divorcing her over it. She didn’t even try to fight for claims. So, my father nearly worked himself to death every day to provide for himself and me. It was a hard lifestyle, but I grew used to it. At least until…”
I pause, my composure slipping further. A knot forms in my throat. I fight to keep it down.
I can’t do this… It hurts too much… Stop now before it’s too late…
“Until…” Yorn’s voice coaxes me back to reality.
“Until he… died,” I choke out, struggling to maintain control. Something wet streaks down my face from my blind eye. I wipe the tear from my face, taking several deep breaths.
“There, there was an accident at his job. I don’t know how, only that he was, instantly killed.”
My deep breaths shutter. Any sense of control will I have will fail if I keep going.
Keep your composure… Focus on something else…
“After his funeral… I, I had to live with Vaelum again,” I quietly mutter, the grief of my father’s death passing.
“Staying with her was a nightmare.”
“Did she beat you?”
“No, not physically at least. She would yell at me every chance she got, over the smallest of things.”
I can feel the grief being replaced with hate.
“I had to learn how to survive on my own, at the age of eight. Since I was too young to find a job, and Vaelum kept everything locked, I would sneak to the markets and steal from the vendors. Eventually, I taught myself how to lockpick, and began to steal from Vaelum.”
The hatred I feel increases. The grief is long gone, replaced with seething anger.
“This went on for years! I dropped out of school, spending all my time trying to not die from hunger. And as I got older, the verbal abuse got worse! That sahkira pushed me to the brink of suicide…”
“But,” I continue. “During my lowest point, she unknowingly brought purpose into my life. She gave me a will for revenge. She made me take all the self-hatred I had, and divert it onto her. I wanted to kill her, and I almost did. One night, I hid in her room with a revolver I had found of hers, ready to shoot her the moment she walked through her door.”
I lightly smile.
“I was a foolish child. Had I actually killed her, things would be much different. Thankfully, she brought someone home with her, so I didn’t fire that gun. I was stuck in that closet for hours, listening to those two have sex. While in there however, I found something that changed me: Vaelum’s Captain armor. It sparked plans in my mind; better alternatives to murder. After I knew for sure I could safely leave, I did.”
I fall silent again, the memories now clear as a freshwater spring.
“The next day, I completely abandoned my standard education, focusing on something I deemed to be more important.”
Yorn’s voice tickles my ear, but I ignore whatever it was he said, too focused on remembering my past.
“From that point forward, I taught myself all I could about war, combat, and military strategy. I worked harder than ever to grow my magical strength and physical strength. When I reached adulthood, my first act was to join the Royal Guard. At first, they wouldn’t let me in since I didn’t have a diploma. But I persisted, eventually passing grueling entry the tests they gave me. To be honest, I was in way over my head. The first few weeks were some of the toughest days of my life. Still, I managed to work my way through the ranks, eventually reaching the rank of Lieutenant Captain.”
I smile again.
“Then, one day as the Royal Guard was protecting Sarabia against the Abyssinian’s invasion… Vaelum suffers a fatal hit. She died as I stood over her …”
“You let her die…” Yorn’s voice is filled with surprised horror.
“Yes, I let her die. I watched as she bled out, telling her that she was dying alone, without those who cared for her. I turned my back as she drew her last few breaths.”
“You took your revenge,’ Yorn says. I can hear the disapproval in his voice.
“And what would you have done differently, if you were in my place? I snap. “Would you really have helped the one who mentally abused you for your entire life?”
Yorn stares at the fire.
“You gave your life story,” he eventually says. “Now let me give mine.”
Yorn adjusts his position in his chair.
“In my youth, I was apart of Clan Brutus, the second-largest Minotaur clan. Despite what the name suggests, Clan Brutus was not brutal. The clan is made of traders and merchants that would rather barter and debate than kill. My mother was from Brutus, but my father was from Clan Torrik. If anything, Clan Torrik should have the name of Brutus. Anyways, my father, who was a Torrik pureblood, fled from the clan to Brutus. For what reason he fled I do not know, but when he fled, he brought his beliefs with him. He made sure to instill his Torrik beliefs into his three sons as well.”
Yorn stands and stokes the fire, returning to his chair before continuing.
“The eldest and the youngest didn’t take his lessons to heart, but the middle son did. That son did everything that Clan Brutus was against: killing for fun, tormenting those weaker, and lashing out when things didn’t go the way he wanted.”
“Are you talking of yourself?” I ask. “I find that hard to believe…”
“Yes, I am speaking of myself. I was a dangerous child. I had inherited my mother’s telepathy and my father’s temper, while being smart enough to know how to hide my actions. I would use my power to twist my words to match what others would want to hear, before backstabbing them and taking what I want myself. If they would somehow resist, I would grow violent. Eventually, I grew careless in my actions. I was caught by some guards, right in the act. The clan elders punished me and told me that if I were to be caught again, I would be banished from the clan. I was smart enough to know when to stop.”
“Did you really?”
“Actually, I did stop. I kept to myself, taking my anger out on trees and other, non-Sentient creatures. It worked for a while. Unfortunately, those that I had bullied saw an opportunity to return the favor. They tormented me as I had once tormented them. As I look back, I will say that I deserved everything they said and did to me. But in the moment, their actions blinded me with rage. I thought of the ways to get back at them. Eventually, they pushed me over the edge. I…”
Yorn pauses. I can see intense regret etched on his face.
“I turned to the destruction of property, focusing on a intricate statue that had rested in front of a bullies home for centuries. I didn’t destroy it, but rather I vandalized it. What I had done was more of a dishonor than I had intended it to be. That night, I woke up to everyone in my family dead, except my elder brother who was away. He blamed me for their deaths. Well, I was furious. I disowned my brother and fled from my home. I then did what I regret most of all. I returned the favor; I killed not only the bully, but completely wiped his homestead from the clan. It was burned to ashes, along with another home that was close by.
Yorn looks away from me.
“Understand me, Solaria. Revenge, in the moment, may feel like the best possible action to take. But all it does in create a cycle. A horrible, destructive cycle that will burn everything in its path, even those which are innocent. As a result of my own insecurities, three families were destroyed. One of which had nothing to do with it. Because of me, my own family is destroyed when it all could’ve been avoided.”
Yorn stands, walking to the doorway that leads to the workshop.
“So please,” he says, halting in the doorway. “I beg you to not take revenge against those who’ve wronged you, for you have no idea what horrors it will create. Be the bigger soul and break the cycle. You don’t have to excuse their actions, or even forgive them, but don’t let their choices consume you and spawn a cataclysm of death and destruction.”
Yorn sighs.
“I need some time alone,” he hoarsely says. “Please don’t bother me…” He walks through, closing the door behind him.
I stay seated. Drukl walks up to me, slipping his head under my hand. I absent-mindedly pat it, as my mind is spinning over the past ten minutes.
“I need to think…” I mutter to myself.
I rise from my chair, grabbing my torn cloak and wrapping it around my shoulders. I exit Yorn’s home through the front door, stepping out into the cold night. A blizzard wasn’t active at the moment, although the gray cloud cover still hung over the sky as it always did. Even without a blizzard or wind, the air was still freezing. It sends chills down my spine.
I ignite and cast Exposure onto myself. After casting the spell, I meander my way towards the massive bonfire near the gates, still blazing since the day I arrived.
What do they use to keep that thing fueled? I haven’t ever seen it unlit…
A million other thoughts raced through my mind as well, most of them of Yorn’s past, and the rest of my own.
I can’t believe I revealed so much of my past to him, along with nearly breaking down. I can’t lose myself like than again. It didn’t even relieve any weight from my mind…
I reach the fire, canceling Exposure as the roaring flames replace the spells effects. I cross my arms against my stomach.
And he didn’t tell me all that emotional baggage just to relate with me, oh no. It was too coincidental… He must know of my plans against Celestia… His obnoxious telepathy is such a drag… Why else would he speak of revenge in such a way…
I snap out of my deep thinking as I hear hoofsteps approach. I ignite a shield spell and Lightning Bolt, ready to fight at a moment’s notice. I see the steps are from a Minotaur, taking a late-night stroll. The beast stomps by, sharing the glare I give him. We both stare at one another until he breaks it to continue on his path.
Dumb leathersack…
I disable the spells and start to slowly pace around the fire.
I will admit, Yorn is not wrong… Revenge tends to be an extreme response. But I also feel that revenge is okay when it is justified! What Celestia did deserves proper retaliation… She is not the same as Yorn’s childhood bullies. The circumstances were different.
I stop pacing.
No, the circumstances are the same… Celestia is nothing but a bully, albeit the worst form. Yorn is right. Whatever I would do short of killing her would spark a response twice as strong… But, the difference is, Celestia has nothing left on me…
I begin to walk back towards Yorn’s home, recasting Exposure.
What I don’t understand is the regret Yorn spoke of. Watching Vaelum die as I stood over her was satisfying. I felt no regret, and I still don’t.
A sudden blast of icy wind cuts through Norrg’kl, sending shivers down my back, even with Exposure active. As I brace against the wind, the tie of my cloak snaps, sending the ragged cloth flying from my back. I ignite Telekinesis, catching the cloth with the spell. I pull it back to my hands and inspect the break.
Cheap, synthetic material… I’m honestly surprised it took this long to break. Now I have to waste my time trying to fix this…
The winds continue to grow in strength as I run to Yorn’s front door.
Wait a minute… why waste time learning to fix this garbage when I can simply purchase a brand new one, made of actual fur…
I look across the street to that leather shop. I hadn’t seen the Minotaur that ran the shop since I had arrived two years ago. At the time at least, he seemed to be one of the more self-controlled Minotaurs.
Perhaps I could commission… Ah svist, I can’t… I have no way of paying for it…
Feeling frustration, I turn back to Yorn’s home and twist the knob to enter. The door refuses to budge. I sharply sigh, grabbing a spare key Yorn had given me from a pocket. I quietly unlock the door, sneak in, close the door and relock.
The fire is still burning, filling the room with a dark orange flickering. Yorn was in his bed, appearing to be asleep. Drukl is also in his own bed, out cold.
Let’s see if I can get through the night without that ‘dog’ bothering me…
I cancel Exposure and set the gear I took with me near my spot. The simple bedroll I was borrowing had been replaced with an actual cot. It was much more comfortable.
Despite my exhaustion from the day’s work, and the recent emotion dumping, I’m not tired. Rather, I was excited to see if my long-term project was successful. Sitting cross-legged onto the cot, I ignite and cast Magical Meditation. The familiar shimmering waves and shifting colors enter and pass through my vision as I’m transported again into my Meditative Plane.
I open my eyes, greeted by the ever-familiar lush floating islands and sunset sky. The calmness enters my body and mind as I slowly travel along the dirt path leading to the cabin.
The caw of a bird catches my attention. I look up at a thick branch overhanging the path. Sitting there is a raven, its sleek black feathers holding a faint red sheen from the light. It hops slightly along the branch, cocking its head and quietly cawing at me. I hold out my arm in its direction. It leaps from the branch onto my limb, climbing from my forearm to my shoulder.
I smile as I stroke the raven’s chest feathers, earning several soft caws from the creature.
It took two years, but I had finally done it. I had successfully created a form of entity, an entity capable of its own free will, within my meditative plane. I was unable to do so before, only creating life which was connected to my own will.
Now I can use live targets in my training… Finally…
I quickly walk to the cabin, shooing the raven from my shoulder. I mentally reshape the area in front of the cabin, removing the foliage and smoothing the land. The dirt and grass are replaced with smooth stone, slightly raised from the surrounding grass surface.
With the new area set, I begin to craft another entity, with the sole purpose of being a target dummy and bearing a liking to a certain Queen I hated with my entire being.
15 th of Year’s End, Hour 7 – Norrg’kl, Yorn’s Living Room – Solaria’s POV
My mind readjusts to normal existence as my mind leaves my Meditative Plane. I was almost done creating the practice dummy, when my body within the Plane became soaking wet. There was a single suspect that came to mind.
As I had thought, Drukl is behind it. He had left his own bed and taken refuge on my cot, using my lap as a pillow. The animal is out cold, drooling furiously.
I was still furious, but also numb to it at this point. The behavior shown from the stupid animal had been consistent for every single day of the two years I had been staying with Yorn.
I don’t know why I expected anything else…
I glance at Yorn, seeing that the Minotaur is still asleep. Igniting Telekinesis, I grab Drukl and float him over to his bed. He doesn’t react at all, still dead to the world. All the drool that’s soaked into my cot is separated and gathered into a sphere in front of me.
It’s quite a sight to see a half-foot diameter sphere made entirely of wolf-drool. It was disgusting. With a dead stare, I float the drool ball over to Drukl and drop it onto his form.
This finally wakes him. Drukl jolts awake, his eyes the size of dinner plates. I stare at him until he makes eye contact with me. His face drops into the equivalent of a deadpan stare. Drukl whines and flicks his muzzle upward at me.
“That’s what you get, ‘dog,’” I whisper to him. “You should know by now that I don’t like you on my cot!”
Drukl obnoxiously snorts and set to the task of licking himself, as wetly and loudly as he possibly can. The sound is very off-putting.
Uhgh…
I stand up from my cot and stretch, several satisfying pops come from my stiff legs and back. As I continue to stretch out my body, my eye catches the ruined cloak. The idea I had last night comes to mind.
Hmm, perhaps I can see about a trade deal instead of coin payment.
I gather the cloak, quietly unlocking the door and relocking once outside. I ignite and cast Exposure, the frigid morning air still shocking my system.
By the time I leave this wretched place, I’ll have used Exposure more than Telekinesis… But, I’d rather deal with the cold than listen to Drukl lick himself…
I cross the frozen street to the leather shop. I look around the front of the building. There was no indication as to whether the store was open or not.
I try the handle, carefully inching the door inward. It opens without resistance. I take this as a sign of an open shop and step in.
Nothing had changed since I was here last, at least from what I can tell. The walls still held various pelts leading up to the counter. The owner of the shop is behind the counter, his back to me.
As I enter, he turns to face me, giving a bored expression until his face flashes with recognization.
“Hmph,” he snorts. “I thought you’d be dead by now…”
“Well, as you can see, I’m still here,” I retort. “And don’t get any ideas of your own. I’ll beat you the same way I beat Orn’gar.”
The Minotaur’s expression shifts.
“So, you’re the culprit behind his scene.”
“You were there?” I’m caught off-guard by the sudden shift of attitude.
“Yes!” he laughs. “I remember vividly how loud that scream was! He was so scared, he almost stabbed Julr!”
The Minotaur releases a booming bout of laughter. As the humor dies down, he coughs into a fist.
“What do you want?”
I toss the ruined cloak at him. He catches it with one hand and starts to look it over.
“Geez, what did you do to ruin it this bad…” he mutters.
“Can you make a new one or not?”
He deadpans at me.
“You’re speaking to the best leathercrafter in Norrg’kl,” he says. “I can easily do it. The issue is, I don’t know if I feel like it…”
Oh please…
“First off, can you even pay for something like this?”
“Tell me what it would cost first.”
He smugly grins.
“You can’t pay, can you?”
My mouth twitches.
“…Not with coin, but maybe I can offer my services.”
He looks me over, giving an amused snort.
“Yeah, that just seems like asking for disaster.”
I can feel my skin beginning to boil.
“Not that kind of service you faraking idiot!” My hands tighten into fists as my voice raises. “I can make something!!”
“What would you know how to make that I could possibly need?”
“I work with the blacksmith, dipsvist!”
The Minotaur perks up. “You… work with Yorn?? Do you live with him too?”
“Yes…? Why does—"
My question is drowned out as the Minotaur falls into another bout of booming laughter. I can only stand there confused while this beast is laughing like a foal. Eventually, he calms himself down.
“You’re the first Sentient that’s gotten him out of his shell. That’s truly a feat. Okay, I’ll do it! As a thanks from his nephew, I’ll cut the cost of a brand-new cloak in half. Does that sound like a reasonable deal?”
The Minotaur doesn’t wait for a response, reaching underneath the counter and drawing a piece of parchment and a quill. He begins to write out a few things.
“It’ll be a few weeks before I can get started on this. Also, I’ll need your shoulder measurements and your desired materials. By the way, what’s your name even?”
“…Solaria.”
“F’jub,” he says. “It’s been a pleasure. Now,” he hands me the parchment and turns away from me. “Get out. I have much work to do, and I don’t need you bothering me any longer.”
I roll my eyes before leaving his shop.
Absolute crackhead…
I return to Yorn’s home and head back inside. Yorn is already up, currently making a morning meal. Drukl is on his bed, giving me a stink eye.
“Aah, there you are,” Yorn says, suspiciously cheery.
“Okay, why are you so excited,” I ask.
“Oh, no specific reason.”
“You know, for someone who can read emotions, you certainly don’t do a good job hiding yours.”
“Wait until after we eat,” he says, all the while smiling.
What does he have planned…
“Fine…”
==|000|==
Throughout the entire meal, Yorn held a faint smile upon his face. It honestly is a little concerning. I hadn’t seen him ever smile so much before.
I’ll bet it has to do with whatever he’s hiding from me.
I’m sitting in my spot at the table, having finished my food long before him for once, contemplating what could possibly have the older Minotaur so excited. Finally, he finishes his food.
“Alright, you’re done. Now please, tell me what’s gotten you so excited, else I’ll start to believe that you’re losing your mind.”
He wipes his mouth with the back of his hand.
“Let me go and get it,” he says, quickly standing and speed-walking towards his shop.
“‘Get it,’” I ask, confused. “Wait a minute… you better not—”
Yorn disappears before I can finish.
He better not have done what I think he’s done…
Yorn returns to his living room, holding a small leather pouch. He passes it to me, the pouch clinking from the action. I tentatively undo the leather string that was tied around the top. Within were several silver coins bearing the crest of Griffonia, otherwise known as Gyffs.
In any other country, these coins would be next to worthless, especially since Griffonia’s collapse. In Norrg’kl however, Gyffs are an extremely valuable form of currency.
“Yorn,” I slowly say. “truly, I appreciate this gesture, and do not believe I think otherwise, but I can’t accept this.” I look up at his face, it still beaming. “These coins are too valuable for you to give them to me.”
“Don’t worry about me,” he says. “I have plenty more. Think of this as a bonus for your help, to use however you wish.”
I sigh.
“I’ll accept this if you answer me honestly,” I look him dead in the eyes. “Why are you doing this?”
The cheerful grin begins to falter. “W-well it’s Hearth’s Warming—”
“Don’t try and bullsvist me, Yorn,” I quickly cut him off. “I know you don’t celebrate it. Why are you doing this?”
His smile completely disappears, replaced with a semi-distraught frown.
“Alright, I won’t hide it,” He says, moving to sit across from me again. “I’ve thought much about what you told me last night. Most of your life has been devoid of happiness and joy from what you’ve said. And despite your dismissal of this time of year, I was trying to replace, for at least a few minutes, the bitterness with joy. This was going to only be the first, but if you don’t want me to, I can stop…”
His increasingly melancholy rambling drags off as he catches me shaking my head.
“Hold on,” I say. “This gift, is quite unexpected, and I will admit that it made me feel somewhat uncomfortable to receive one after so many decades, but your explanation reminded me of what F’jub told me. If doing this makes you happy, then I won’t try and stop it.”
Yorn’s smile slowly returns.
“It does make me happy.”
“It is because I’ve given you back something you’ve yearned after for a long time? The feeling of family, perhaps?”
“What makes you say that?”
“I was told that I’m the first Sentient you’ve grown attached to since you arrived in Norrg’kl.”
Yorn stares off into space for a moment before jolting back to reality.
“In a way, yes. You’ve become more than a guest, much like Drukl. You’re family, at least in my eyes. Like a daughter I never had…”
He chuckles. I lightly smile.
I grab the pouch and hold it in front of me.
“I’ll accept keep this and other gifts IF,” I hold up a finger. “You don’t go overboard. Please try to keep it to Hearth’s Warming only.”
Yorn’s full smile returns.
“Deal!”
Author's Note
Finally, I'm posting something fresh and new! It's been in the works for a while, so thanks to those that held on to this story through my antics and rewrites.
As always, please leave your comments!
Here's a better explanation of the spells used if you're interested, written in this Google Doc .
--Thanks to HoneyBacho for assisting with editing and world continuity
Year 2535, 1 st of Winter’s Reign, Hour 19 – Norrg’kl, Yorn’s Workshop – Solaria’s POV
In the few weeks after the Hearth’s Warming ‘bonding’ between Yorn and myself, a new year comes to fruition. Back in Equestria, the new year would be met with celebration and a night drinking.
In Norrg’kl however, nothing interesting happens. Beyond seeing a few new faces, the day continued on as normal. Despite never partaking in such events, I did miss the atmosphere that the day would provide.
“Finish that sword, then we can break for food.”
Yorn’s voice snaps me from my thoughts of the past. I don’t respond to him, rather choosing to finish sharpening the iron sword in front of me. I had expected to use the grindstone, especially for such a hefty blade. But Yorn, with his practical sense, told me to learn the hard way first. Not that using a whetstone is difficult, but the amount of time it took was proving to be inefficient.
He uses such slow methods to complete his work, yet he can perform magic. I wonder why he doesn’t use his abilities to assist his tasks…
While I daydream over Yorn’s possible magic abilities, I finish the one side of the sword. I had done a decent job, although some clean-up is required. I set the whetstone down onto the workbench before walking back to Yorn’s living area. Like always, Drukl greets me in the form of excited bouncing around my legs.
Yorn is already preparing something as I sit at the table.
“You’ve told me and shown me your magical abilities, but you never use them beyond prying into my mind,” I abruptly say. “Why is that?”
“That question took you awhile to ask,” Yorn responds. “And for your information, I use them plenty.”
“I meant outside of your cheap telepathy. Can you even perform any other spells?”
Yorn sets down the ladle he’s using.
“My telepathy is not cheap,” Yorn retorts. “and I don’t exactly have a reason to use any other spells. Besides, from what I’ve noticed, it doesn’t work the same as your magic. It’s more-so a passive power I have. This is on top of the fact I don’t know any actual spells.”
“Were you never exposed to magic?” I ask. “I thought you said your mother had your magical tendencies.”
“She did,” he replies. “but we didn’t have your spell tomes in Clan Brutus, and I’ve never had the luxury of a teacher, or even another outside of my mother that shared my abilities before.”
“Well, I’d be willing to teach you some new spells if you think you’re up for it.”
“That sounds like an interesting offer. Although, I can imagine most spells won’t be useful to me unless they hold practical uses.”
“Plenty of magic is practical,” I say as I think over the less extravagant spells. “I could teach you Telekinesis, Kinetic Dispersion, Illumination…”
Kinetic Dispersion?” Yorn’s question is laced with confusion. “That doesn’t sound simple…”
“It basically allows the caster to control where the kinetic energy from their physical strikes goes. As an example, I could punch a target and cause the energy from the punch to, instead of falling on their armor, to be directed to their spine. Although, for someone with extreme magical talent, this spell is redundant.”
“It sounds like you could still use it effectively if you wanted to.”
“I can, but considering I already have the physical strength to match, it still remains redundant to me.”
“Really,” Yorn quips. “well that explains why you’ve been breaking every single piece of metal I had you practicing with.”
“Oh, forgive me for taking your suggestion of ‘strike the metal hard’ to heart… Or perhaps I was growing frustrated with constantly crafting solid metal poles…”
“I’ll teach you how to make weapons and tools in due time. Be patient,” Yorn reprimands. “Besides, I’m already having you work with such craft anyways.”
I sigh with exasperation.
“Sharpening swords and actually making them are two different things.”
“Yes, and learning to make them is complicated, as well as requiring lots of practice,” Yorn says as he serves the food and brings the bowls to the table. “I’m trying to avoid overwhelming you.”
“You’re talking to the Unicorn that went from a Private to Captain of the Guard within 144 years, whom had little proper education. The previous record was somewhere in the 400s. Trust me, I can handle complicated.”
Yorn rolls his eyes, not speaking.
“Tell you what,” I offer after finishing half the bowl. “Start teaching me more important stuff now, and I’ll help you expand your magical potential.”
Yorn ponders over my deal, remaining silent as he and I eat.
“What will you start with?”
“Telekinesis as it’s the easiest. Then probably Illumination… Actually, I’ll have to show you Magical Measurer first, to find out the number of Drops in your Magic Pool.”
I notice Yorn staring blankly at me.
“I understood exactly none of that…” He mutters.
“Looks like I’ll be showing you the fundamentals of magic as well,” I snort.
“We can do that after today’s work.” Yorn says, standing and walking towards the work room.
“Heh,” I chuckle. “It’ll take more than an evening to teach you anything of importance.”
We both head back into the work room, myself returning to sharpening the other side of the sword. Yorn slides a long metal bar into the forge, pumping the bellow to increase the heat within.
We both remain quiet, me personally thinking over where to begin in my to-be magic lesson. I figure Yorn is doing the same.
1 st of Winter’s Reign, Hour 30, Norrg’kl, Yorn’s Living Room – Solaria’s POV
“Hmm, too bad outside is a freezing death-zone. Your home is too small to properly practice magic…”
Even with the cleared living space, the room is still extremely compact compared to any other place I’ve practiced. I also feared that the collateral damage that came with magic would cause several things to break.
There was also Drukl to get in the way.
“Is there somewhere we can practice around Norrg’kl? Like training grounds?”
“There is,” Yorn says. “But it’s reserved for guards only.”
“Aah, svist,” I mutter. “Oh well, here will do for now.”
I point to Yorn’s chair. “Sit.”
Yorn sits into his rocking chair as I take mine.
I take a glance at Drukl. Thankfully, he’s unconscious in his bed, drooling into it. For his sake, he’ll stay that way until I’m done teaching Yorn for tonight.
“Now then,” I lean back into the chair, resting my elbows onto the armrests while setting a fist against my palm. “Tell me what general knowledge you know of magic, so I know where to start.”
“Uhh, okay…” Yorn replies. I can tell he’s caught off-guard by my request.
“Well, I was taught that magic is an other-worldly power gifted to the Minotaurs by the All-Father, so that our kind may live in prosperity. Since the All-Father is a kind deity, he also shared this power with the rest of the world’s creatures. But the Horned Devils abused the All-Father’s kindness and hoarded the magical power for themselves, which is why they have great magical power and the Minotaur’s don’t.”
Yorn pauses his, rather rude history lesson to wince at my shocked and slightly offended stare.
“Okay,” I eventually say after several awkward seconds of silence. “Beyond the extremely racist and rude morals to that, interesting information, it’s completely wrong.”
“Yeah,” Yorn says. “I had figured. Sorry.”
“Worry not,” I wave off his apology. “I’ve been hit with worse insults.”
“Anyways,” I begin the lesson. “Magic actually is an energy that is within every living organism. Every creature, from an insect to an Ancient Dragon contains at least a speck of magical power. Obviously, some creatures hold more than others, and some, like Unicorns, have the ability to use that internal magic externally. Technically, any creature smart enough to understand how to use it can, but unless the creature has a form of conductor, it won’t be easy. That’s why Unicorns and Alicorns can use magic so easily; our horns. These are our conductors.”
My arms drop onto the armrests.
“But enough of the historical fundamentals. A more important aspect of magic is your Magic Pool. It is what judges your magical capabilities and is what every spell is measured against. What fills the hypothetical Pool is called Drops. The Drops are the actual measurement, compared to the Magic Pool which contains the Drops.”
I stand from the chair, ambling towards the center of the living room while speaking.
“Now that I’ve explained what magic is, let’s begin with the actual spells. To cast a spell, one must first ignite it, either through speaking a specific phrase while channeling magic or by mixing magical frequencies, in which either is usually combined with certain hand movements. But back to igniting. What would work best for you would be speaking the spell. Since you were able to cast Incineration, I’ll assume you know a few words of the Aligonic language. I doubt you happen to have an Aligonic dictionary lying around?”
I walk to Yorn’s bookshelf and perform a half-hearted scan through the titles.
“No, I don’t,” he replies. “I only know the words for, uh, Incineration , from a book my mother had.”
“Well, I suggest you find one if you can, because Aligonic is the language which magical spells were binded with. Technically, it’s a dead language, but it can still be used for igniting spells. Regardless, I’ll teach you the words I know.”
I remain silent for a moment, recalling the correct pronunciation.
“To cast Telekinesis for example, one would speak the class of the spell as well as the spell itself. So Telekinesis would be… Xelpilquos Tendekil’vanoia . ”
I wince at the horrible pronunciation, realizing that without a dictionary or language guide, this would be extremely difficult.
“Don’t try and repeat that, those words are Old Ponish, not Aligonic. They don’t work. Anyways, when you channel magic, channel the word as well. Feel the meaning and combine the two. Don’t worry about casting it now, though. As for the other way to ignite spells…”
I fall silent again, thinking over how to even explain it.
“Explaining how I mix magical frequencies isn’t exactly easy to explain. It’s more of a Unicorn technic that we all have the instinctual sense for…”
Another pause.
“I can use colors as a placeholder… As technically, I still see colors when I mix the frequencies anyways. So, Unicorns can see magic in different colors. Each classification of magic holds its own color, as well as each sub-class. As an example, Offensive spells can be orange, purple, silver, and more, Defensive are teal, Manipulation are yellow, and so on. We can combine the different colors to make more complex and unique spells.”
I gesture for Yorn to stand, watching as he does.
“I’ll start you out with a simple spell, one that’ll be used to judge your magical potential. It’s a spell called Magical Measurer. The name is self-explanatory. Once you learn it, I’ll have you continuously use the spell until you pass out.”
“That sounds dangerous,” Yorn says, a hint of nervousness in his voice.
“Don’t worry, it’s completely safe,” I reassure. “You won’t be casting it until tomorrow.”
“I don’t fully know how to explain this to you, since I don’t know the Aligonic words, and you aren’t a Unicorn… your best chance as of now is to try and to see the frequencies as colors. I doubt it’ll work, but one never knows.”
Yorn nods.
“Okay, close your eyes and try to imagine… the color yellow. Not gold, not neon, just yellow. No shapes or details, only yellow.”
A moment passes as I follow my own instructions using frequencies. I quickly find the balance, having done so numerous times before. Yorn is heavily concentrating, so I wait a few more moments.
“Now, add the smallest drop of pink, like a splash of paint, right in the center of the yellow. Visualize the colors interact and mix with each other. Then, when you’re ready, mix in magic. Let the energy flow and wash with the colors. Finally, once you have the right combination, pull it into your palm.”
I will the power into my own palm. A flash of red appears in my hand and the spell comes to fruition, bearing the color of my magical essence. I watch the ball of magic shimmer and shift, the light humming power tickling my ears and the slight vibration of my horn touching my forehead.
Still holding the spell, I look at Yorn. He holds his hand out in front of him, still concentrating had. Several minutes pass.
Eventually, he drops his hand.
“I tried to do what you said,” Yorn glumly says. “But it wouldn’t work.”
“Don’t worry about it,” I reassure. “I had doubts this would work for a non-Unicorn. Tomorrow I can look at a few places and see if I can find anything worthwhile. We’ll pick this up when we can get our hands on an Aligonic dictionary,” I say.
A yawn escapes me.
“For now though, I need sleep.”
Yorn yawns as well, nodding in agreement. Without another word, we both climb into our respective beds. I quickly fall asleep, needing rest much more than I had previously thought.
2 nd of Winter’s Reign, Hour 8 – Norrg’kl, Yorn’s Living Room – Solaria’s POV
I awake from a restless sleep, noticing the heavy weight of Drukl atop my legs. I quietly growl, using Telekinesis to lift him back to his own bed. I deeply yawn as I stand from the cot, running a hand through my fiery tangled mane. After roughly brushing it over to the left, I walk over and sit down at the table.
“Looks like you had a rough night,” Yorn comments from the kitchen.
“You could say that…” I reply, my voice sluggish.
Yorn pulls a cylindrical container from a cupboard. Within, he removes several leaves I don’t recognize. After separating the soup into separate bowls, he adds the leaves into one. The leaves instantly dissolve into the soup. That bowl is set in front of me.
“Drink this. The Chillcrisp leaves I mixed in will help boost your energy for the day. Although they tend to have some side effects…”
“What type of side effects…?”
“After 20 hours or so, there’s a chance you’ll end up more tired than you were before you consumed them.”
“Eh…” I grumble before drinking the entire bowl.
Within seconds of finishing the soup, I feel my energy rapidly growing. Soon, I felt I had finished sleeping for a week straight and had enough power to take on the entirety of the Dragon Lands.
“Wow… this really has an effect…” I say, having to contain an energetic burst to my speech. “Are you sure this gives me energy, or replaces my blood with electricity?”
I look at my hands. Both are vibrating slightly.
“And… are you sure this is safe for… Anthows?”
My heartrate slowly increases with each passing second. I feel a jolt of adrenaline as I stand and ignite Effect Reversion, casting the spell onto myself. As soon as the spell activates, my heartrate and shaking hands return to normal, the energetic flow in my veins dies out, and I return to feeling sluggish. I collapse back into the chair, face planting onto the table, giving a deep sigh of relief.
“Are you alright?!” I hear the panic in Yorn’s voice. “I’m sorry! I swear, I didn’t know!”
“I’m fine…” I grumble out, too tired to feel any real anger. “Next time though, let me check out the substance before you mix it with my food, okay…?”
“Okay…” I hear Yorn sit down again, although I don’t hear him eat.
With a sigh, I stand and walk to the door leading to the workshop.
“I’m going to go and try to find an Aligonic Dictionary…”
I don’t wait to hear a response, simply pushing my way into the workshop. Near the door to the shed, I grab a sack containing the items F’jub had requested as payment.
”Let’s see,” I mumble, going over the list. “a metal sewing awl, six leather-craft needles, twenty-seven nails, a metal prong punch, a coat hanger, and four ball bearings…”
Why four ball bearings, and only twenty-seven nails…?
I shrug, gathering all the items and return to the living room.
“Finally paying F’jub?” Yorn asks.
“Only if he’s actually done with it.”
I cast Exposure onto myself before leaving Yorn’s home. I cross the street to F’jub’s shop, ready to receive the new cloak he had been working on for the past few weeks.
As soon as I enter, F’jub appears from the back room.
“Oh, you,” he says with exasperation.
“Yes, me,” I reply with a dead tone. “You know why I’m here, so no need for you to get snarky with me.”
F’jub mockingly laughs.
“Don’t tell me what to do in my shop…”
“Then don’t give me that attitude. Just get me my cloak and I won’t have to beat you to death with this coat hanger…”
F’jub rolls his eyes, retreating to the back room. Several minutes of silence pass. I come within inches of investigating the wait when he returns. In his arms is an exquisite cloak.
From what I can see, it’s made of real fur; the rich, dark brown shades making for a striking contrast to the paler browns of the old synthetic cloak. When F’jub passes the cloak to me, I notice the interior is layered with a different material. A light brown mesh that feels as soft and warm as the furry exterior.
“Impressive,” I say, being more grateful than my voice was letting on.
“Huh. Coming from you, that’s a tall compliment.”
“Don’t get used to it… Here’s all the nonsense you wanted.”
I pass over the sack of assorted items as well as the coat hanger. After he receives the payment, I leave the shop to face the winter weather. When I’m out of eyesight from F’jub, I wrap the new cloak around myself. It’s unbelievably warm and comfortable, more than the cheap synthetic cloak had ever been. It feels warm enough to keep me safe without Exposure, at least when there wasn’t a blizzard active.
With my day slightly better than before, I head right from F’jub’s shop, briskly walking to the shop bearing the name ‘Griffonian Garnishes.’
I walk into the shop, seeing the same short shelves holding different knickknacks and baubles. The Griffon running the shop isn’t present, although noise comes from another room behind the counter.
I glance around the interior, spotting two promising bookshelves along the left wall. I walk over to it, slowly looking through the various books that rest upon the shelves. The first shelf is filled with all sorts of fiction, ranging from mysteries to science fiction from several cultures. I ignore it, beginning to look through the second shelf when I hear a hoarse voice yell out.
“You !”
I turn towards the sound, seeing the gray and white-speckled Griffon pointing an accusing claw at me, his large yellow eyes glaring.
“You destroyed my shop!” he squawks. “Get out!!”
I blankly stare at him.
“That was over two years ago,” I snap. “And I only flipped a single shelf…”
“Yes! A shelf filled with valuable items! Now OUT!! Before I force you out!!”
I roll my eyes.
“Fine,” I reply, retrieving my coin pouch and waving it in his direction. “I guess my coin will be spent elsewhere…”
I turn away to leave, intently listening for the desired reaction. After a few seconds, the Griffon speaks again.
“W-wait! Perhaps I was a bit hasty. If you have coin to spend, then please… buy to your hearts content. Although, I must ask that you don’t destroy my stuff.”
I smirk before pulling a straight face.
Griffons are too predictable…
“If you insist.”
The Griffon poorly hides his anger behind a smile before returning behind the counter. I walk back to the bookshelves and start to search through the second shelf. Once again, the top half doesn’t yield what I’m looking for.
I don’t know why I’m expecting a dictionary on a dead Anthropony language to be in a Griffonian shop in the Minotaur Lands…
As I think this, my eye catches a maroon cover wedged between a set of pale green books. I pull out the red book, the title reading Guide to the Aligonic Language: Third Addition .
I look through the first few pages, instantly recognizing the long and complicated words of the Aligonic language written upon the pages.
Unbelievably convenient, but who am I to complain...
I close the book and tuck it under an arm, walking up to the counter where the Griffon is intently watching my every move.
“How much?” I ask while setting the book onto the countertop.
“Thirty Gyffs,” the Griffon replies instantly after I finish my question.
“Thirty?! That’s ridiculous!”
“Well, the book itself is worth five, and the twenty-five is for the damages you caused awhile back,” the Griffon gives me another false smile.
I scowl, pulling my coin bag out and placing fifteen coins onto the table.
“Five for the book, and ten for ‘damages.’”
“I’m sorry, but there’ll be no nego—”
I slide a single coin from the table, giving the bird a dead stare.
“If you think—”
I slide off another coin.
“What are you going to do?” I say. “Tell the guards that I refused to pay for ‘damages’ to your shop from two years ago, without proof? They’ll laugh. Besides, you should be thankful I’m even giving you anything. I could easily refuse, and you’d be powerless to do anything about it…”
The Griffon gives me an angry glare, sliding the thirteen remaining coins from the countertop into his clawed hand.
I grab the book, refusing to break the glare until I turn and leave through the front door.
2 nd of Winter’s Reign, Hour 22 – Norrg’kl, Yorn’s Living Room – Solaria’s POV
“I’m starting to feel…dizzy…”
“Good,” I reply, checking the time on my watch.
After returning to Yorn’s home, I quickly found the words for Magical Measurer and taught them to Yorn. After telling him how the spell works I had him cast it. He had cast the spell nearly two hours without feeling any effects. Finally, he was reaching the end of the rope.
“I… think I’m going…to… pass…” Yorn’s eyes roll back and he drops to the floor with a trembling crash.
The yellow glow in his horns and his hand disappear. I read the time again and write it out before calculating his Magic Pool.
“Twelve drops,” I say to myself aloud after a few moments. “That’s on par with most amateur Unicorns…”
I set the quill down onto the table before igniting and casting Telekinesis. I grab Yorn’s unconscious body and lift him onto his bed. Drukl nudges Yorn’s hand with his snout, letting out a whine.
“Relax, He’s not dead.”
Without waiting for a reaction, I make my way to the shop area. I open the storefront and begin to wait for customers.
==|000|==
“Uhhhgh…”
I hear a loud groan from behind me as I finish slipping the Gyffs from a fresh transaction to Yorn’s safe. I look behind me to see Yorn himself coming into the shop, a hand clutching his forehead.
“Is it common to have such a nasty headache,” He groggily asks.
“After Magical Measurer,” I amusedly say. “Most definitely. It’ll go away in a few hours, though. At that time, we’ll jump into actual spells.”
“Fine,” Yorn grunts. “I’m going back to sleep.”
He returns through the door to his shop. Another Minotaur walks in through the front door, constantly glancing at me as he looks at what Yorn has on display. I simply stand behind the counter, leaning against it as the satisfying feeling of anothers fear fills my heart.
2 nd of Winter’s Reign, Hour 30 – Norrg’kl, Yorn’s Living Room – Solaria’s POV
After closing up the shop, I return to the living area. Yorn is asleep in his bed, although stirring as I walk to my cot. I hear a yawn as I remove the dagger from my waist and adjust my mane to cover my blind eye. After I’m satisfied with styling my mane, I look at Yorn.
Already I can tell he’s looking less groggy. I cross my arms in front of me, waiting for him to fully wake up.
“Well, are you ready to continue our magic lesson?”
“Food first,” he mumbles.
“No, magic, then food,” I say.
Yorn gives me a disgruntled groan.
"It won't take that long…" I exasperate.
"Food first," he repeats, standing and walking to his kitchen.
"Stubborn bull," I mutter, walking back to my cot and sitting there impatiently.
Thankfully, either through his politeness, or knowing that ticking me off wasn't a smart move, Yorn only finds some simple foods to eat. After a few minutes, he returns to the living area. He pulls over his rocking chair closer to my cot and sits in it, giving me his full attention.
I don't say anything at first, waiting to see if he would try and do something else. After feeling satisfied that he wouldn't, I grab the Aligonic dictionary from the end of my cot and begin to walk Yorn through similar steps as Magical Measurer, except with Telekinesis instead.
“Okay, like with Magical Measurer, Telekinesis is cast the same way. Both share the same categorization of Manipulation,” I flip through the book I bought earlier, finding the words. “Therefore, igniting Telekinesis would be… X'Ehlplq'Muos Tnd'Ehklvnqia.”
Hoping the words were pronounced correctly, I hand the book over to Yorn, showing him the words. He stares at the book, confusion written across his face. After several minutes of staring at the page, he begins to read the words. Each pronounciation is extremely poor. Yorn sighs.
“For what you say is a simple spell, this is certainly a difficult way to cast it.”
“There’s a reason this language had been changed twice,” I say. “But if you want to cast magic, this is the only way. Just keep trying.”
Yorn nods and continues to try and properly say the words. Minutes pass as he repeats the phrase. Eventually, as Yorn speaks the words with a palm out, a burst of yellow magic appears in his palm. He jolts at the sudden appearance, before widely smiling at his success as his horns slowly start to glow yellow.
“Good,” I compliment. “Now time to cast the spell.”
I gesture to the stick I’ve set onto the floor in front of him.
“Imagine yourself grabbing this stick with your hand. Now do the same with Telekinesis. Feel the magic wrap around the middle of the branch as your fingers would.”
Yorn’s hand slightly closes as he concentrates on the stick. His yellow energy surrounds the midsection of the branch, causing it to glow yellow.
“Now, like you would normally, lift the stick with your magic.”
Yorn lifts his hand upward, gritting his teeth in his attempt. Shakily, the stick slowly lifts from the ground. It floats a few inches in the air before dropping back to the ground.
"Good. Very good," I complement as Yorn cancels out the spell. "You learn quickly."
"Thanks," Yorn replies.
I can hear his heavy breathing.
Using the spell must be more taxing on him that it is on myself. I forget that he’s getting old for a Minotaur, despite being nearly 200 years younger than myself...
“That’s all you have to do for tonight,” I say. “Now that you know how to ignite and cast it, the next step is to practice igniting the spell as well as levitating light objects. That’ll increase your stamina with it. And heed my words when I say light. Lifting heavier objects than that stick could quickly and easily drain all your magic.”
Yorn nods. He walks to his kitchen, filling a mug of water and downing it in a single shot.
“That was an interesting experience. I’m excited to do more,” he says after wiping his mouth. “I’m going to catch up on some work I missed out on.”
“Go for it,” I reply. “I’m too tired to care as of now.”
Hopefully I can get some actual sleep tonight…
I prepare myself for a night’s rest, eventually climbing onto my cot. I look over at Drukl. He’s dead to the world as always.
He can’t fool me…
Author's Note
I never know what to say here, outside of the copy-paste. Oh well.
As always, please leave your comments!
Here's a better explanation of the spells used if you're interested, written in this Google Doc .
--Thanks to HoneyBacho for assisting with editing and world continuity
Year 2538, 4 th of Frostfall, Hour 30 – Yorn’s Home, Living Room – Solaria’s POV
“Wait… don’t tell me today’s that day…”
As I walk into the living area from the shop, I find Yorn in his chair with a dismal look upon his face.
“Yes,” he sadly replies. “The day my brother disowned—”
“—I’m going to stop you right here, because I don’t need to sit through another year of this,” I say, pressing my hand against my forehead.
Oh sweet Creator, not this again…
“Look, Yorn,” I say as I slide my hand down my face. “I know that I can’t relate, or tell you how to feel, but seriously. Feeling depressed about this isn’t going to solve anything.”
“Well what else could I even do…”
I’m instantly fed up with his extreme pessimism, not wanting to even process it.
“Are you serious…”
Yorn looks at me, confusion mixed with his melancholy.
“Need I recall all of your ‘speeches’ you’ve spouted to me? What about your interesting suggestions, like your idea of me showing up at Celestia’s door and asking for forgiveness?”
“I was spit-balling!” Yorn protests, clearly taken aback by my shortened temper.
“Regardless, it was the worst idea you’ve ever come up with.”
“It would be a good exper—” He tries to say.
“—Be happy I’m at least trying,” I cut him off. “But that’s not my point. What I’m trying to say, is for you to take your teachings and apply them to yourself. Go to your brother. Tell him how you feel. Ask for his forgiveness. Start to heal the wound that was made, as you would put it.”
Yorn sits quietly for a moment, thinking over what I had told him as I give him a vapid stare. A minute passes before a wave of determination jumps into his eyes.
“You’re right! Why should I sit here and sulk when I could be taking action!?” he declares.
He stands up and looks around his home.
“I need to pack,” he mutters before walking to his closet. He flings the door open and begins to rummage through it.
“You’re going now?!” I question, absolutely appalled.
“Why not?” I hear a muffled reply.
“Well for one thing, it’s dark and freezing cold, and for another, where does your brother even live?”
“He still lives up north, within Clan Brutus.”
“Yorn, Clan Brutus is over 100 kilometers away, based on what you’ve told me! You’re too old to travel that far without a mammoth ride, and there isn’t another one here for days. Seriously, take the time to prepare before irrationally running out into the Frozen North!”
“I may be up there in my years, but I’m not that old! I can manage fine.”
“You know what? Fine. Go ahead and get your gear and whatever else you need, but you’re not leaving until you can take a mammoth ride, got it?”
He doesn’t respond, continuing to rummage through his closet and remove various traveling gear.
He’s not fooling anyone. I guarantee this overeager attitude will change real quick once it settles in…
I sit onto my own rocking chair, arms crossed, and listen to his rummaging.
20 th of Frostfall, Hour 9 – Yorn’s Home, Living Room – Solaria’s POV
“Guess who’s right? Me, that’s who. Whoopity faraking doo…
I feel my lips press together and my eyes narrow as I watch Yorn. I had predicted this exact reaction those few weeks ago, even giving my concerns to Yorn on several occasions. He assured me that my fears would never come to fruition. I would be throwing it into his face if it didn’t tick me off so much.
“Yorn,” I say, standing from my cot. “No more delays. You’re going today.”
“I thought I could, but now,” Yorn’s voice is extremely nervous. “I not sure this is a good idea…”
“You no longer have a say in the matter,” I say. “I gave you a chance to do this on your own, now you’re going to face this obstacle and you’re going to beat it. Think of how relieving it would be to have a reestablished relationship with your brother. Use that as motivation.”
Yorn takes several deep breaths.
“Okay,” he breathes out. “Okay, I can do this.”
He keeps repeating this to himself over and over.
…and over.
“Yorn,” I say with a dangerously calm tone. “If you don’t leave now, you’ll miss the mammoth ride, and I’ll be forced to take matters into my own hands. Trust me, you don’t want that.”
“Okay, I’m going, I just need to write some reminders out for you!”
Yorn rapidly retrieves a slip of parchment and a pen before hastily scribbling out words.
“Yorn,” my tone leans more towards dangerous. “You’ve been prolonging this for two weeks… I’ve helped you run this place for over six years. I swear, if you don’t leave now…”
I place a hand on his back and try to forcefully guide him to the door. Even with my arm bulging from my efforts, I couldn’t shift him.
“I’ll be fine!” My teeth grind together as I struggle to move his form.
“But—” He tries to protest.
“Yorn, I swear on the Creator, if you don’t leave right now, I will force you unconscious and tie you to that mammoth!”
While I have no intentions on carrying out my threat, he quits his furious scribbling and moves to the door. As he swings it open, he stops in the doorway. I begin to ignite Telekinesis, preparing myself to literally force him from his own home, when he turns around and hugs me. I’m bewildered by the action for a second before I return an awkward hug to the taller Minotaur.
With a deep breath, he steps out and starts his walk towards the gates. I watch him until he disappears past the wall before quickly stepping back inside to avoid any more contact with the freezing air. After closing and locking the door, I lean against it and slide down into a sitting position. I rest the back of my head against the door, sighing with relief.
“I never thought he’d actually leave.”
A loud and extremely pitiful whine comes ringing into my left ear. I sharply gasp from the piercing sound, looking to see Drukl staring at the door. Both his ears and tail were down. As much as the wolf annoys me, him acting this way for the entirety of Yorn’s absence would become troublesome. I slide over to Drukl and awkwardly pet his back, trying to give some form of comfort.
“Worry not dog, your master will be back.”
Drukl’s ears perk slightly as he turns his head in my direction. His eyes, still sorrowful, also hold a tiny amount of reassurance.
“Besides,” I continue. “You’re not alone.”
His face grows even less sad, this time his tail slowly wagging. He inches over and tries to lick my face. I deftly block his attempts with my arm.
“Okay, that’s too far.”
Drukl’s excitement returns to its normal level as he attempts harder to lick my face. I push him away and stand up. He bounds to his bed, spins around, and plops onto it. Within seconds, he’s snoring loudly.
I watch the wolf for a minute, still baffled by his rather sentient-like mood swings.
Six years and yet I still cannot figure out that animal...
With Yorn finally gone, Drukl unconscious, and the shop closed for the rest of the day, I’m free to do anything I wished. As I glance around Yorn and mine’s home, I see the parchment Yorn had scribbled on before leaving. I walk over to it and try to read what he wrote.
It’s nearly impossible.
“’I forgot to’… can’t read that… ‘stocking fire… keep Drukl’… what?”
I’m completely lost.
“Huh… Must not be too important. I hope.”
I set the paper back onto the table.
I could see if that Griffon has anything useful in stock…
I snatch my beautiful cloak and wrap it around my shoulders before leaving Yorn’s home, locking the door behind me. Today, as most days, is gray and hazed with fog. A light flurry of snow flutters down, which is as rare as sunlight considering most storms were intense blizzards.
As I walk down the snow-covered streets, passing through the stalls along the sides, I flip the hood up and do my best to hide my form. Even with my horn uncovered, the Minotaurs here weren’t going to be looking closely at me, as long as I keep myself hidden. I could easily walk down the street without hiding if I chose to, but it proved to be more efficient to remain inconspicuous while outside.
I have no issues passing through the streets, easily reaching the store ‘Griffonian Garnishes,’ still marked by the wearing wood sign.
==|000|==
Two other Minotaur customers had come and gone in the 30 or so minutes I had been in the shop. Twice, I had felt the Griffon owner’s glare piercing my skin, when he thought I wouldn’t notice.
I forget Griffons hold long-lasting grudges over petty issues…
I browse through the first shelf containing the fictional books. Many were still there from the last time I had been here. I pull out a newer one, titled “Tusk Love.” A romance no doubt. In the past, I had caught several of my subordinates trying to secretively discuss such books while on duty. I had punished them for their misuse of time, but I was always curious over their interest. I begin to flip through the pages to see if I truly was missing out on something interesting, or if I was simply dealing with lonely, horny fools.
“Huh…,” I mutter to myself. “Half-Orc? Human?? What the heck is a human? Or an orc for that matter… Weird. oh… Oh, it’s that type of romance novel…”
I close the book and try to forget the words I had read. No way in Tartarus am I about to read a smutfic.
I was simply dealing with lonely, horny idiots…
I move to return the book to its spot when I notice something pressed against the wall behind the opening. I pull out the books blocking the rest of the item, discovering that the mysterious item is a book as well.
It was not any book however. The shimmering emerald binding on a sparkling silver cover is identical to books I used to read during my free time in the Solar Guard: A spell tome. As I read green glyphs on the cover, I see this specific tome is one which teaches enchanting. I flip through the pages, amazed at my discovery.
This is amazing! A newer, authentic spell tome? Here? No longer will I be doubting the value of this place…
I set the other books back where they belonged and tuck the tome under an arm. Having found what I was searching for, I start walking to the Griffon to pay. After a few steps, I stop.
I’ll bet that this tome has been long forgotten, considering no one here can use magic. And knowing this scamming featherhead’s attitude towards me, he’d most likely overcharge me just because he can…
I pause, glancing back at the bookshelf.
I have an idea...
I remove “Tusk Love” from the shelf again, stripping the cheap cover from the book.
With some careful fumbling, I remove the cover and slip it onto the Tome. I check my work and make some slight adjustments.
Unless the Griffon checks the contents of his shoppers, I shouldn’t have a problem making off with this at a cheaper price…
I casually walk up to the counter, where I catch the shift in expression from the Griffon. As I begin to set the book onto the table, he snatches it from my grasp and reads the title. His expression shifts again once his mind processes the title.
“T-that’ll be 3 Gyffs,” the Griffon stutters out, unable to make eye contact as a flustered glint appears in his eyes.
I mentally roll my own eyes, retrieving the coins and slapping them down onto the counter. I grab the book and turn to leave.
“Enjoy yourself,” the Griffon calls out. His tone is far too suggestive. I pause my walking, giving the Griffon a dangerous glower over my shoulder.
“I would suggest you be careful with what assumptions you make, and who you make them to,” I say, dropping my tone into a deadly threat.
I immediately leave ‘Griffonian Garnishes,’ not wanting to remain in the shop longer than I had to. I once again flip the hood over my head, keeping my newly acquired tome tucked away.
After returning and safely locking the door behind me, I remove my cloak and lay it onto my cot.
“I cannot believe that worked,” I say to myself.
Drukl tilts his head as he lolls his tongue out the side of his mouth.
“But it does not matter. With this Tome, I can learn to enchant anything I want with whatever enchantment I want. I could actually make it home. I could finish… what Celestia started…”
My mind becomes clouded as I think of that hag’s name.
What home would I have to return to? No doubt everyone sees me as a traitor, and I can’t kill Celestia anyways. Now that I think of it, any attempt to harm or break Celestia would be impossible for a single soul… If I were to succeed, would it honestly be worth it in the end…?
I shake the thoughts from my head. I sit at the table, ripping off the “Tusk Love” cover and opening the emerald and silver cover. I slowly read through the book, struggling to focus as I continue to doubt my goals.
20 th of Frostfall, Hour 28 – Yorn’s Home, Living Room – Solaria’s POV
A loud whine cuts through my focus, causing me to jump slightly. I look down to my right, seeing Drukl sitting next to me. In his mouth is his food dish, and his eyes were trying to carve their way through the concrete barrier that surrounded my heart.
Unfortunately, his attempts over the past years are finally proving to be effective.
“Fine, I’ll get you something to eat. Just stop with those eyes…”
I rub my face, shifting some loose stands of mane to the left. After a moment and a yawn, I stand and make my way outside through the back door, grabbing a key that’s hanging next to it. I exit and turn left, hastily moving to the meat chest Yorn keeps against the home. I unlock the chest and remove a cold, raw slab of meat from it. Relocking the chest, I return inside and lock the door behind me.
“Here,” I say as I toss the meat into Drukl’s bowl, which he dropped in favor of attacking a leg of Yorn’s bedstand. He immediately switches to devouring the meat.
I ignore the brutal slaughter and walk to the fireplace. I gather some logs left outside the iron cage around the fire and open the slide bolt. As I feed the flames, my ears hear the brief sound of scampering paws.
I’m shoved aside, watching Drukl barrel past me and leap at the fire. I quickly cast Telekinesis and yank the animal back away from the heat, slamming the cage door shut and relocking the bolt.
“Drukl, what in the FARAK is wrong with you?!”
He smiles at me with his tongue lolled, acting oblivious to his act. We stare at each other, his blank stare meeting my confused stare.
“You’re absolutely deranged,” I say.
He barks in response. I release him from Telekinesis and head into the kitchen, keeping an eye on the wolf. For the next ten minutes, I prepare myself a meal of a single cooked potato, using magic to speed up the process.
I eat my meal in silence, Drukl having passed out after his suicide attempt. I finish my meal, setting the used utensils into the kitchen.
Despite it still being early, I prepare my space for a night of sleep.
Spending six days of the week meditating rather than sleeping isn’t as tiring as I originally thought, but it still feels nice to actually sleep once in a while…
I head into Yorn’s bathroom and set up a bath.
==|000|==
One hour passes before I exit the bathroom, ready for sleep. Imagine my surprise when I find Drukl sleeping on my cot rather than his bed.
“Really,” I say. “You can’t even have the decency to wait until I’m asleep?”
Drukl looks up at me. Instead of his child-like protesting, he gives me an extremely sad expression. He silently climbs from my cot and returns to his bed, curling up and giving a single sigh.
I stand there staring off at nothing with a dead-pan expression.
A dog is the first living creature to make me feel bad about a decision I made… What is my life…
I climb onto my cot, adjusting my position until I’m comfortable. After a minute, as I’m starting to drift off, I hear a subtle whine.
He’s going to guilt trip me all night…
I sit up, sighing in defeat.
“Come here.”
Drukl looks up from his bed.
I point to the end of my cot.
“This is your one chance.”
Drukl jumps from his bed with excitement and in two bounds, lands onto my cot. We both get comfortable, Drukl passing out as I try to fall asleep.
Only until Yorn gets back…
26 th of Frostfall, Hour 26 – Yorn’s Home, Front Shop – Solaria’s POV
“…Eighteen, nineteen, twenty, twenty-one…” I count to myself, sliding each Gyff into a leather pouch. After the last coin is slid into the pouch, I tie it off and place it into Yorn’s safe.
Minotaurs still remain the dumbest race in my opinion… Who pays thirty-two Gyffs for a Warhammer made from stone…
With that customer gone, I lock the safe and leave the shop area into the back. Heading over to the smelter, I check the raging hot coals inside before placing more fuel into the structure. After doing so, I walk over to the workbench. Next to it, on a simple wooden armor stand that I had built, rests the Royal Captain of the Guard armor I had worn with me here. I remove the helmet, having stripped it of non-metal features, and solemnly glance over it.
I feel the memories surge though me as I recognize scratches across the purple and gold metal, remembering the cause of each. A training mishap here. A vital deflection there. This armor had been through as much as I had.
My solemn expression hardens.
Now, it will serve me in another way…
I ignite Equilibrium and slowly siphon my magic, transforming and pushing the power to my muscles.
I grasp the open face of the helmet, pulling each side apart. My biceps bulge under the effort, even with Equilibrium. I refuse to quit, as after several seconds the sound of tearing metal rakes across my ears. The sound continues to grow in quantity as the enhanced Equestrian steel begins to bend. Finally, with a harsh shriek, the helmet breaks into two pieces. Shards of metal fly away as I cancel out Equilibrium.
Without a change in expression, I return to the smelter, tossing both broken pieces onto the melting pan. I slide the pan into the inferno and wait, watching the remains of the helmet slowly heat. After a moment, I walk back to the armor stand and grab onto the chestplate. I remove the armor piece as a ring comes from the shop area. I look at the door between the work room and shop before setting the chestplate onto the workbench with a metallic thud. I open the door and start the stupid greeting Yorn told me to say.
“Welcome to Yorn’s Smi…” I trail off as my eyes catch the symbol on one of the three Minotaur’s bandolier: the shattered hammer insignia of Clan Hytori.
I make eye contact with the center Minotaur, feeling adrenaline and dread flood into my body. His overly shocked expression matches mine.
“You…” he snarls out after recovering from the surprise.
All three reach for their weapons.
I work to keep the fear down and hold a hardened glare. I ignite Thundercrack, manipulating the lightning bolts in my hands to crawl along my arms and connect to random points in the room. I see them all hesitate, sharing uneasy glances with each other.
“Get out…” I hiss. “…And I won’t coat the walls with your blood!”
The Minotaur to my left steps back and the right one’s anger is replaced with uncertainty.
The center Minotaur holds his ground. His anger keeping his conscious from working right.
“You think I’m going to leave, without giving you what you deserve?”
“I’m warning you… leave now…”
You killed my father!” The minotaur bellows, pounding his battle-axe against his chest. “Now I’m going to kill you!”
As he raises his axe above his head, I cast Thundercrack with twice the intensity. The explosive bang of a thunderstorm shakes the inside of Yorn’s shop. All three Minotaurs cry out, dropping their weapons and throwing their hands to their ears. The two flanking the center Minotaur scoop up their weapons and quickly leave, fear upon their faces as blood trickles from their ears. The last Minotaur stands, still dazed from the concussive blast. He looks at me with glazed eyes.
“We, are not… done,” he stutters out before stumbling out through the door.
I walk around the counter, Thundercrack still ignited, and slam the door shut. I lock it before canceling the spell. As the adrenaline in my body dies down, I feel my heart pounding in my chest. I look down as something on the ground catches my eye.
On the ground, lying open and face down, is another spell tome, this time with a pale cobalt blue binding on a silver cover. An Illusion Tome, specifically Mind Illusion. I remain frozen in place, simply staring at the Tome with wide eyes.
Can this new Hytori chieftain cast magic?? I thought only Yorn could perform such feats… What did he have planned…
I ignite and cast Magical Detection on the book, then cast Harmful Detection, searching for any sort of trap that could be on the cover or pages. Neither spell finds anything harmful. I tentatively reach out and grab the book. I flip it over to read the pages, quickly seeing that this Tome is as legitimate as the Enchanting Tome I found yesterday.
Perhaps I can find a use for Illusion magic after all…
I tuck the tome under an arm and place the ‘Closed’ sign in the single window. I pause while looking at the window before sliding a heavy weapons rack in front of the glass panes, as a precaution.
I walk through the work room, leaving the Illusion Tome on a table near the door to the living area. I double check that the door bar is secure before returning my attention to my helmet that I’m melting. I try to focus on the smelter, but my mind keeps drifting to the Tome.
What did they have planned with such magic, if they could even cast it… and how close was I to succumbing to it…
A shiver travels down my spine as I think of the possible intentions the Minotaur chieftain had with the Tome. Trying to focus, I intensely watch the reddened helmet. The helmet grows brighter with color as the thoughts of Hytori keep returning to my mind. By the time of the helmet being nothing but molten liquid, I can’t focus on anything else outside of that dreaded clan. I snuff out the smelter fire and leave the melted metal in the pan. I leave the work area and head for my cot, ready to call it an early night.
Even before lying onto my cot however, I knew tonight would not be restful. Every thought is consumed by the Hytori Minotaurs, and if they would return in search for either their tome or for me.
I decide to take the precaution of shields, choosing to use magic on a hunch and feel safe rather than keep my magic and possibly deal with a fight.
I ignite Magical Seal, instantly beginning to weave and form the red strands of magical energy across the front door. Several minutes pass as I increase the complexity of the unique shield. As I finish, the front door is layered with a wall of red translucent magical strands. I move to the door leading to the work area, placing the same patterned shield onto it as well. I can feel the strain in my mind after spending that much magic in such a short time, even for the amount I have, but it would be worth it in the end.
I climb into my cot, Drukl at my feet, facing the blazing fire in the fireplace. I close my eyes and try to sleep, knowing I’m safe with the shields.
Such thoughts did little to help.
21 st of Frostfall, Hour 11 – Yorn’s Home, Living Room – Solaria’s POV
I jolt to consciousness as I hear the doorknob of the front door rattle.
Oh svist!!
I jump up from my position on the ground and ignite my go to Lightning Element spell, Lightning Bolt. I prepare to cast the spell, holding a defensive position.
As the door handle rattles some more, the sound of the lock clicking open reaches my ears before the door itself tries to swing open before being blocked by the shield. The red barrier holds strong as the impact from the door sends a tiny indicator to my mind.
“What the…” I hear come quietly from the other side. I sigh in relief, canceling Incineration and disabling both shield spells as I recognize the voice of Yorn. He steps in, confused by whatever had been blocking the door before being assaulted by an excited Drukl.
I watch as Drukl excitedly licks Yorn, happy to be reunited with his master. Yorn couches down to greet Drukl in return, just as excited to see the wolf.
I stand there, waiting for the scene to end.
Yorn looks up from the wolf, spotting me standing in the center of the room with my arms crossed. His glad expression shifts to one of concern.
“You look like svist…”
“Hello to you too,” I say, my voice as dead as I currently felt.
“I suppose there’s a reason for you to be looking so…” Yorn pauses as I see his mind search for the right word. “...wrecked…”
“Yes,” I drone out. “There’s a very good reason… But as of now, tell me how your journey went.”
As I say that, Yorn’s face changes again to one of depression and tiredness.
He moves to the table, pulling out a chair and heavily sitting down.
“He, he didn’t want to see me.”
We both are silent.
Well, that wasn’t how it was supposed to go…
“I should’ve expected it,” Yorn says after a bout of silence. “What reason would he have to forgive me?”
He sighs.
“Yes, I agree,” I say after my own moment of quietness. “What were you expecting?”
Yorn looks at me confused.
“He was never going to forgive you, not so soon. But you’ve shown him that you’re willing, and dedicated, to try and earn it. This never was going to be an easy task, nor a quick one. However, you keep persisting, and I guarantee he’ll give you another chance, whether it be a month or a year.”
Yorn stares at me dumbfounded.
“What?”
“Wow,” he says. “I never would have expected you to say something as motivational as that.”
“Yeah,” I agree. “I have no idea where that came from. Perhaps your words of wisdom and positive attitude is rubbing off on me.”
“A far cry from how you were when I found you in my shed.”
“About that,” I pause, rubbing my arm. “I’ve thought about it over these past few days, and I’ve…”
“Yes?” Yorn’s head tilts slightly to his left.
“I’ve decided to listen to your advice and…”
There’s another long pause as I muster the words.
“…and drop my task of revenge against Celestia.”
Actually speaking those words causes a hidden burden on my shoulders to lift ever so slightly.
“Really…” Yorn says, doubt weaved into the word. “What brought you to this conclusion?”
“To be perfectly honest, I’ve grown attached to this place; to you, and surprisingly, to Drukl. The bond that’s grown is one I’ve not had since my father.”
And Stronghold…
I ignore the name of my long-fallen Lieutenant Captain, still unable to shake him from my mind.
“That’s very touching,” Yorn says, a smile on his older face. “You’ve become more than a guest, or a friend even. I’d say at this point, you’re family. Not through blood, but through bond, which I say is stronger than blood.”
I feel the warm, unfamiliar feeling of happiness slowly build in my chest; a feeling I have not felt in centuries.
“Now then,” Yorn says, sitting onto his bed. “Tell me of your week.”
“Gladly.” I respond.
As I begin to speak of my time alone, I feel a smile upon my muzzle. I do not try to hide this one. True, genuine smiles were rare for me, as is the feeling of not holding a burden of hatred on my back.
I’ve found where I belong… Screw Celestia. She can remain a miserable wretch in Equestria. I have everything I need right here…
Author's Note
One chapter left in this arc
Like with all my chapters, please comment your thoughts, questions, and criticisms!
Here's a better explanation of the spells used if you're interested, written in this Google Doc .
--Thanks to HoneyBacho for assisting with editing and world continuity
Year 2567, 40 th of Chillwind, Hour 11 – Yorn’s and Solaria’s Home, Living Room – Solaria’s POV
I blink my eyes as my mind comes to consciousness. Drukl is still asleep on my bed, his right hind leg twitching from whatever dream he’s having. Magical Meditation is canceled from my palms, as my arms stretch above my head.
Checking my watch with a yawn, the time reads 11:06 . I feel a wave of confusion.
“Why didn’t he wake me,” I mutter to myself, scratching my left jaw. “he’s becoming senile in his old age.”
Yorn isn’t seen anywhere within our living area, as the sound of slow, heavy hammer strikes reach my ears.
I climb from my bed, the motion causing Drukl to snap from his sleep. His head bolts up before he bounds from my bed onto the floor.
“And you’re getting to be old and senile too,” I rub the top of the wolf’s head as he happily lolls his tongue. I look at the custom-made calendar hanging above my bed.
Today is the 40th of Chillwind.
“Really…? huh,” I mutter to myself.
I guess that’s why Yorn left me in meditation for so long. 25 years… time really does fly.
I use Telekinesis to open my old pack, retrieving a clean, royal purple t-shirt and head to the bathroom for my morning routine.
==000==
“Yorn, I can’t believe you,” I say, walking into the workshop.
The old Minotaur is standing over the workbench, sending a confused stare in my direction.
“You let me meditate longer, while not getting extra sleep yourself.”
“Today’s a special day. I figured you would appreciate it,” he replies, using his body to not-so-subtly hide whatever it is he has on the workbench. “and I wasn’t tired. Don’t worry about me, Solaria. I can take care of myself.”
“Why is it when you say that, a wonderful quote from yesterday comes to mind?” I stroke my chin in a thinking motion.
Yorn’s face gains an embarrassed look.
“It was one time…” he mutters out.
“Don’t worry about me, Solaria,” I repeat the words he had said in a deep voice. “I swear, I’m still young enough to carry almost 200 pounds worth of raw materials. Trust me!”
Yorn grumbles.
I laugh while walking up to him.
“I’m only teasing. Relax,” I say with a smile, resting a hand on his shoulder.
“What are you making?”
Yorn hides the item in his hands.
“You can see it later,” he says.
“Fine, be that way,” I back off and move to my over armorstand. A pale cloth covers the armor that sits upon it.
“What’s left for you to do?” Yorn asks, stepping over to look at the armorstand as well.
“Just need to try it on and make any necessary adjustments,” I say, excitement building in my stomach. “I did the final touches yesterday before falling into meditation.”
“You meditate so often,” he comments. “I figured you would’ve lessened your time spent doing that.”
“No can do. I need to keep expanding the size of my Magic Pool. You should be doing the same. I’ve noticed you haven’t been recently.”
Yorn rolls his eyes with a smile, turning to the shop door.
“I’m too old to spend nights meditating rather than sleeping,” he says, unlocking the door and heading into the shop.
“I don’t recall you using your age as an excuse to avoid overexerting yourself…”
Yorn rolls his eyes, disappearing behind the shop door. I watch the door close before quietly retrieving a dagger wrapped in cloths that I had hidden with my armor. I take the wrapped blade into our living area, making sure Yorn hadn’t suspected anything.
After confirming he hadn’t, I unwrap the blade and look over the weapon.
The handle is fitted with black iron, a rather expensive material to acquire in Norrg’kl, with the pommel forming into the head of a wolf. It also had a ribbed grip along the bladed side. The blade itself is silver steel that curved back as the blade extended, containing intricate etchings of random runes.
The runes themselves were glowing with a faint red hue, the result of an enchantment that was set onto the blade. It was very taxing, taking me several days to complete. But, it was well worth the time and magic to complete such a gift for Yorn.
This weapon is some of my finest work, outside of my new armor set I had been working on for the past few years. Unfortunately, Yorn neglected to teach me leather work, meaning I was unable to shape a proper sheathe that would be equal to my talented creation.
Fortunately, there was someone with adequate skills to almost match my own abilities.
I slip on my cloak and cast Exposure, heading out the door with the rewrapped dagger in hand. The decision is instantly filled with regret as my face is whipped by the icy air of the blizzard. I throw up a hand to protect my face. It blocks the snow enough to allow me to see my path over to F’jub’s leather shop.
I rush into his store, slamming the door shut before disabling Exposure. I wipe the snow from my face and cloak before looking around. At the counter, F’jub is speaking with another Minotaur.
I patiently wait for him to finish, checking out his recent works. Finally, after a few minutes, the other Minotaur leaves. I approach the counter, greeting F’jub with a curt wave.
“I thought Nuu’r was the only one foolish enough to brace the storm,” he quips. “guess I was wrong.”
“Save your quips you fool,” I wisecrack. “Have you finished the sheathe?”
“Of course,” F’jub replies with a grin. “Give me a moment.”
He retreats into the back, returning in under a minute. In his hands is the sheathe I ordered for the dagger, even more extravagant than what was expected. The black sheathe curved with the blade, matching the silver runes with golden ones.
I slip the blade into the sheathe, hearing a satisfying ‘shink’ as the weapon fits in without resistance.
“You did an excellent job,” I compliment. “How much do I owe?”
“Nah,” F’jub waves his hand. “I haven’t had the chance to make a sheathe in a while. It was a fun challenge. Besides, I like you and that old Minotaur well enough. Consider it a gift for lasting 25 years in this cesspool of a town.”
“Won’t argue with that,” I say. “Thank you.”
F’jub gives me a two-fingered salute before returning to the back of his shop.
I wrap the dagger, snug in its new sheathe, and secure it on my belt. After checking for F’jub’s presence, I remove 15 Gyffs from my coin pouch and quietly leave them on his counter before returning home.
After arriving safely in my home from the storm, the built-up snow is shaken from my shoulders. I remove my cloak and slip the dagger into my pack, hiding it deep within the bowels of the bag.
Once the dagger is sufficiently hidden, I head through the workshop door to help Yorn with whatever tasks we had to complete for today.
40 th of Chillwind, Hour 22 – Yorn’s and Solaria’s Front Shop – Solaria’s POV
“Go ahead and close up for today.”
I hear Yorn leave the shop area as I secure the lock on the safe before moving around the counter to the front door. The door is locked as well., Turning to head into the Workshop, I look around the shop at all the faintly glowing weapons.
Enchanting our products was the best idea I’ve ever come up with… Should’ve figured a dull shine would draw in more customers…
I retreat to the workshop and continue to our living area. As I enter, Yorn gestures for me to join him at the table. Drukl is already there, asleep at his master’s feet. I sit down, waiting for whatever Yorn wanted.
“For most of my later years,” Yorn begins. “I never imagined that I would ever feel happiness, or joy brought by another. I mean, I have Drukl, but he’s different. I never thought there would be a close bond between myself and another Sentient, and a small part of me was fearful of such a thing. But then, you stumbled your way into my life. Heh, living with you has been quite the experience,”
Yorn chuckles.
“You made me realize that waiting for the right moment or the right soul to come along and fix everything was never going to happen. The only way things could change would be if I stepped up and solved it myself. So, what I’m meaning to say, is thank you for all the, colorful, help and care you’ve given to me over these past years.”
Yorn passes a small wood box over to me. I carefully lift the lid, revealing what lies inside.
A platinum medallion with a golden band wrapping around the circumference is within. On the side facing me is a gold etching of a parhelion, same as my Mark. I run my fingers over the symbol before removing the medallion from the case and flipping it over. On the other side is a pair of gold horns, sharing the same shape as Yorn’s. On both faces of the medallion are runes, the ones on Yorn’s side glowing yellow with the others unaffected.
“Wow,” I say, awestruck by the craftship. “It’s beautiful.”
“It took me quite a while to make, especially with how busy we’ve been these past months,” Yorn comments.
“That speech was very touching, and not to sound ungrateful, but how did you discover my Mark?” I ask.
“Before you accuse me of something heinous, I realize how sacred your kind’s Marks are, and I would never purposely break that sacredness, even though I honestly don’t understand it.”
“I didn’t accuse you of anything,” I say. “I am simply curious as to how you obtained this knowledge.”
“It wasn’t hard, the Mark’s on your shoulders. I assumed that’s where your kind’s Mark is located.”
“On my shoulders,” I ask, confused. “My Marks are on my hips, like any other Anthow’piovel.”
Yorn shrugs.
“Perhaps you’re a unique case. But, forgive me if I’ve overstepped any boundaries.”
“Don’t be sorry,” I reassure. “Traditionally, our Marks are meant only for the eyes of our mates, but those considered as family are allowed to see them. I would say that you are more family than any of my blood relatives ever were. Besides, tradition is idiotic, in my opinion.”
I look over the medallion again.
I know the perfect enchantment for this…
“That reminds me,” I say, walking over to my pack and retrieving the wrapped dagger. “I made you something as well.”
I hand the cloth to Yorn. He gently unfolds it, his eyes going wide as the weapon and the sheathe are revealed.
“You made this?” Yorn asks, astonishment in his voice.
“I’ll admit, F’jub did the sheathe, but the dagger is my own creation. It’s my way of giving back for everything you’ve done for me.”
Yorn draws the blade, causing the dull red hue to become slightly brighter.
“I also enchanted it, with the Enchantment of Bonding. It’s a combination of Courage, Harmony, and Clear Mind. When you wield the dagger and you’re near those you share a tight bond with, you’ll feel braver, calmer, and more focused.”
“So that’s why you kept your Enchanting castings hidden from me for these past weeks,” Yorn chuckles out. “I was thinking you were embarrassed of being watched.”
“I was never embarrassed. I don’t care if you watch me perform an Enchantment dance, but it would be troublesome for you to watch me enchant your own gift would it not?”
“Very true,” Yorn agrees. “Speaking of Enchantment dances, are you going to enchant your medallion?”
I sigh, rolling my eyes.
“Really? Resorting to Telepathy? I thought you were better than this.”
“I only do it because it annoys you,” Yorn says with a smug grin.
I roll my eyes again, setting the medallion in the center of the living area and walk back to the table, igniting Enchanter’s Touch into my palms. I inhale deeply, holding the breath for a moment before releasing it and focusing on the medallion.
I begin to twist my hands in a methodical movement, sending red streaks of magical energy into the medallion. The object begins to rise off the ground, steadily glowing brighter with each streak. The graceful movements shift from only my arms and fingers to my entire body. Arcane whirring echoes throughout the room with strands of energy arcing from my palms and dancing fingers into the floating medallion, the object humming with its own ethereal tone.
I close my eyes, feeling my mind become lost in the delicate and flowing movements. An unknown amount of time, what feels like a calm eternity, passes as a build-up of tension in the back of my mind starts to spike. My eyes open and I close my fingers in a motion similar to a conductor ending a performance.
The medallion flashes red with a hum, gently settling down on the ground. It holds the same dull red hue as all my enchanted weapons do.
I fall into a sitting position, panting heavily. Even with my heightened magical strength, performing enchantments is still magically and physically draining. Still, every casting and every ‘dance’ was an experience of it’s own; something I would never grow tired of.
“Beautiful performance, as always,” Yorn says with a brief bout of clapping. “What did you enchant it with?”
“Something to help fight against the weather,” I say, still recovering from the magical drain. “Now you don’t have to go outside and face the cold as often.”
“Don’t take that away from me as well. I’ve never been bothered by the cold!”
“Oh please,” I say, rising from the ground. “You’re becoming way too old for such activities, admit it.”
“I didn’t realize I signed up to live with a caretaker,” Yorn snorts.
“Think of it as a gesture of my affection. Now then, I’m starving. What do you want to eat?”
“Oh no,” Yorn exclaims. He pushes me into a seat at the table. “There’s no way in Tartarus I’m letting you cook anything, ever!”
I open my mouth to retort, until realizing that he’s right. My head sulkily nods in agreement.
“Now then,” Yorn repeats me. “What do you want to eat?”
40 th of Chillwind, Hour 28 – Yorn’s and Solaria’s Home, Front Shop – Solaria’s POV
I quietly step into the work room, wearing the Veralax Mesh under-armor for the first time in a long time.
Honestly, I’m amazed it still fits…
I shut the door leading from the living area to the workshop quietly, making sure to not disturb Yorn as he sleeps. I walk over to our weapon rack, looking over my custom longsword.
It shared a similar design to Yorn’s dagger, with the blade faintly curving back to make a faint arc. The metal is all black iron, the handle being fitted with Veralax Mesh fibers from my Captain of the Guard tasset. The crossguard only covered the front side of the blade, leaving the back open for more maneuverability.
It is as much of a work of art as Yorn’s dagger was, although a bit rougher in design. Still, there was pride to be found in this creation.
My real pride and joy however, is my armor. I move to the armor stand, removing the tarp in a single motion. Underneath is my finest work.
The new armor is very similar to my old Captain armor, although this was much less modern and much less open. The armor plates were fully wrapped around the limbs, instead of sitting in the front and sides. Like my old armor, the plackard, tasset, and pauldrons were three plates half-layered atop one another, with the remaining plates staying single-layered. I also had left in a single gold plate from my Captain armor, as a faint reminder of my past life.
I admire my work again, before working on donning it all. The process took a good ten minutes, even with my previous experience. Unlike my old armor, this set didn’t contain the magical seals like before.
The final strap is pulled tight and locked off. I flex the metallic fingers, the metal clinking as my fingers move. My armor fit perfectly against my form and the Veralax Mesh under-armor.
Am I good or what?
I bend over to adjust a bootstrap.
My ear flicks to a dull crash from the living room. I jolt up and listen.
Drukl loudly barks. He never barks.
His barking is cut off by a yelp as faint shouts follow.
At this point, my soldier’s mentality takes over. I sprint to the weapon rack, draw my longsword, and dash for the door. I rip the door open, stepping into the room with my blade at the ready.
An unknown Minotaur drives a shortsword into Yorn’s chest.
My vision tunnels onto the Minotaur as the hot rage overwhelms my mind. I ignite and cast Flashfire, throwing the spell directly at the Minotaur over Yorn. A burst of white explodes in his eyes, causing him to scream out in agony.
He claws at his eyes before I close the distance and slide my longsword up through his armpit. The blade pierces out of his neck before I swiftly draw it out. To my left, near the doorway, two more Minotaurs prepare to attack.
One raises a crossbow in my direction. With a flick of my wrist, I ignite and cast Telekinesis. In a squeezing motion, I cause his crossbow to collapse in on itself. With the wood splinters of the weapon, grasped with Telekinesis, I drive them into the Minotaur’s neck. He gives a gurgling gasp before falling to the ground.
The last Minotaur looks to his clanmate then to me, uncertainty upon his face. Using that pause, I cross the room and swing my sword down across his chest. He raises his arm to block the strike, causing it to be severed from his body. As he screams, the attack is followed through with a spin and a cut across his stomach.
A fourth Minotaur appears in the doorway. Instantly, he spots me surrounded by the carnage of his fallen clanmates. He turns to flee.
I drop my sword and fully cast Telekinesis, pulling the Minotaur into my home. He struggles to break from my grasp. I bear my teeth at him, feeling the familiarity of seething rage as the symbol of Clan Hytori upon his chest is recognized.
I slowly bring my hands together, my fingers held like claws. The telekinetic grasp on his body is directed to shatter his bones and send the splinters into his muscles. From his fingers and toes to his femur and collarbone, I provide as much pain that can be mustered to the leathersack. After I can see his shattered collarbone pushing against his skin, and notice his swelled tears striking the ground, I twist his spine in separate directions.
I drop what remains of that Minotaur to the ground and spin around to help Yorn and Drukl. After crossing over half the room, I hear a groan. Whipping around, I see the Minotaur with the severed limb holding a trigger in his remaining hand.
My eyes go wide as I watch his thumb press down on the button.
I ignite and cast a shield spell around myself, Drulk, and Yorn as a bright orange flash of fire and shrapnel explodes from the Minotaur.
The rumble of the explosion fades away, leaving only the crackle of fire and shifting of broken wood.
My eyes slowly open.
The entire front of our living area is destroyed. Fire is licking at the wood ceiling and floors. My bed, my pack, and the remains of the Minotaurs are completely gone. Anything in the vicinity has been obliterated.
I drop the shield and ignite Frostwave, spreading the ice upon the flames. In a minute, the fires are all quenched. By this point, I feel the cold night air seep into the open home. The change of temperature is ignored.
I run over to Yorn and Drukl, removing my gauntlets on the way. Yorn is on his bed, and Drukl lies unconscious next to him. Both are bleeding heavily.
I carefully grasp Yorn’s shoulder, casting X-Ray to see what damage he had sustained.
It’s bad.
The shortsword had broken through a rib and penetrated into his liver. I switch from X-Ray to Organic Regeneration, preparing to heal him.
“Get… Drukl,” Yorn weakly wheezes out, trying to push my hand away from his wound.
“You first,” I snap, pushing aside his attempts to stop my healing.
“Get Drukl!” Yorn’s voice is filled with alarmed trepidation. In a bout of strength, he swats my hand away.
I yell in frustration, using Telekinesis to temporarily prevent further bloodloss. I cast X-Ray on Drukl and using Muscular Regeneration to heal the more simplistic flesh wound.
I turn back to Yorn, casting Organic Regeneration to repair the damage dealt to his liver.
“Solaria,” Yorn whispers.
“Hold on,” I reply, igniting Skeletal Regeneration after his liver is fully repaired. My hand is shaking. I steel myself and focus on healing Yorn.
‘Lis… listen to me,” he murmurs.
I ignore him, moving my palm over his gaping wound. He grabs my hand, holding it firmly.
“Yorn! What in the farak are you doing?!”
He looks at me, his eyes unfocused.
“P… promise me you won’t retaliate against them for this...”
“Stop! let me heal you,” Anger grows within my voice. I try to pull my hand away. He doesn’t let go.
“Break… the cycle,” he whispers. “Don’t go after them…”
“Let me heal your wounds you faraking leathersack!” I yell, ripping my hand away from his.
“Promise me,” he murmurs. I can barely hear his voice.
I cast Skeletal Regeneration, struggling to heal him fast enough. His rib begins to regenerate, but he’s already lost too much blood for his body to handle. I’m too late.
I cancel out Skeletal Regeneration, grabbing his hand and holding it tight. The anger in my chest falls away, being replaced with a dull aching.
“I… I promise,” I breathe out, my voice void of emotion.
“Good…” he mutters.
His weak grip on my hand falls away.
“Thank… you……m, my daugh…ter…” he breathes out before his body falls still. The magical aura in his body fades away.
The reality finally hits me.
“Yorn? Yorn! Don’t leave ME LIKE EVERYONE ELSE!!”
Pain, sorrow, betrayal, and numbness all charge throughout my body as I fall back onto the ground in complete shock. My mind can’t seem to process what just happened.
“Oh no…” A voice says from my left.
A sudden surge of unholy anger floods my veins. I slowly crane my neck to see F’jub fall onto his knees a few meters away. Touching both Yorn and Drukl, I focus on a grove a few kilometers north of Norrg’kl. Teleportation is cast, taking all three of us to the location.
Drukl jolts awake, stumbling around from the sudden and unexpected teleportation. He recovers quickly enough, peering around the unfamiliar location until he finds Yorn. He approaches, softly nudging Yorn’s arm with his snout. The wolf begins to whine, quite softly at first. The pitiful sound steadily grows into a mournful howl.
The animal releases intense grief as I’ve never seen from a non-Sentient creature. My own emotions break out as well. Fierce, scorching fury forces the numbness away. I turn away from Yorn and Drukl to face the walls of the grove.
I unleash the coursing anger. Like my previous magical outbursts, powerful magical energy explodes from my body. I see nothing, only the face of the one that caused this whole mess; the one that forced me to this desolate wasteland in the first place.
Drukl’s mournful howling is drowned out by the cracking magical energy of my own grief.
==000==
I drop to my knees, the energy in my mind and body drained. Looking around at my snow-covered surroundings, the destruction of my anger has taken it’s toll.
The thriving winter grove is a desolated wasteland of broken trees and smoking craters. I simply sit in the snow, recovering from my outburst.
Drukl is snuggled against Yorn’s unmoving body, shivering from the cold. I remove the medallion from around my neck and place it around Drukl’s allowing the Weather Resistance enchantment to protect him from the cold.
Instantly, the cold penetrates through my armor, the metal plates not helping at all.
I need to find his brother… He deserves to know…
I ignite Mind Meld and press my hand against Yorn’s body.
My vision of the night is surrounded by swirling black as I delve into Yorn’s fading mind.
There is no resistance, nor are there any memories. I feel panic start to rise, as sudden dull noises sound from around me. With some sifting, I follow the link to the source; a memory of Yorn’s visit to his brother.
“Ahh, Yorn. Back so soon?”
Cent greets me from his rustic door with a smile.
“Of course, Cent,” I reply. “I wouldn’t miss it for the world.”
He steps aside, allowing me to enter.
“How was your journey?” Cent asks. Wasn’t too much trouble, I hope?”
“It wasn’t as bad as the last time I came here!” I walk over to one of his chairs. “Now that was a snowstorm………
The memory begins to fizzle out. I quickly pull it to myself and connect it with my thoughts. The location of Yorn’s brother flashes into my mind as if it’s a memory of my own.
I prepare to cancel out the spell, when another remaining memory catches my attention. It’s fading, but I manage to find it.
My heart aches at its sight.
“I’ve decided to listen to your advice and…”
There’s another long pause as she musters the words.
“…and drop my task of revenge against Celestia.”
“Really?” I question, feeling skeptical of her devotions to such an idea. “What brought you to this conclusion?”
She looks down for a moment before making eye contact again.
“To be perfectly honest, I’ve grown attached to this place; to you, and surprisingly, to Drukl. The bond that’s grown is one I’ve not had since my father.”
My heart suddenly feels warm inside. The emptiness left by my regretful actions as a young child is filled with another emotion: joy. I’ve waited for several years to hear those words. And now that she’s said them, I know I’ll never forget them……
The memory also begins to fade away. Like before, the memory is snatched up and saved amongst my own. I can feel the happiness that Yorn had felt. I pull out of his head back into the real world.
The warmth fades, replaced by the bitter air. I swallow down more grief, working to focus on finding my way to his brother’s homestead.
43 rd of Chillwind, Hour 9 – Frozen North, Cent’s Homestead – Solaria’s POV
The past few days have been a blur. The last clear memory can recall was melding with Yorn. Everything from that moment on until now was unclear, with faint bits of arriving at Yorn’s brother’s homestead.
I slip a gauntlet onto my hand, locking the straps into place.
I know that I should face the recent events now, as to not go through what I did with my birthfather. But breaking past ways of coping is not simple. I take the easy route and try to push the grief away, back into the deepest recessions of my mind.
I should’ve tried to bring him back… I had the power to…
I shake my head, forcing the thoughts away. No reason to dwell on what had passed.
I look around the room that Yorn’s brother had graciously offered to me, before grabbing and slipping on a new survival pack given to me by Yorn’s nephew. The gear within is old and worn, but it’s better than nothing.
Unfortunately, the cloak that F’jub had made me was lost in the explosion, meaning my travels would be less comfortable.
I head down the stairs, walking into the central room of the home. The fireplace has a layer of meshed iron wrapped around it.
A brief smile comes to my face at the tiny amount of amusement it brings.
“Leaving so soon?” The younger Minotaur asks.
“There’s no reason for me to remain here,” my voice is carefully neutral.
Drukl is resting next to the fireplace, his head raising up as he hears my voice. He slowly stands and meanders over to greet me, his tail faintly wagging.
I kneel down and stroke his neck.
“You aren’t the only one who’ll miss him,” I say to Drukl, giving a melancholy sigh. “This is not going to be easy to say, but I can’t stay here.”
Drukl’s head leans to one side.
“I wish I could take you with me, but where I’m going, what I plan to do; it’s no place for an old boy like you.”
A whine escapes his muzzle.
“These will take good care of you, just like Yorn did.”
He paws at my arm. I hug the old wolf.
“Do not worry, I would not put you through such pain again. You were as much family as he was.”
A lump forms in my throat. I swallow it down.
“Good-bye, my friend.”
I ignite and cast Mind Meld, breaking through Drukl’s weak mental barrier. I sift through his memories until I find the multiple memories that contain me. I cast a spell I never wished to use: Mind Wipe. With a heavy heart, Any memory of myself is pulled from his mind, while the memories of Yorn are kept intact. It is surprising to see how much the wolf remembered, making the task so much more painful.
In a final motion, I replace the last journey he took with me of one with Yorn’s nephew in my place, before pulling out.
I can see Drukl’s glazed eyes, watching his dazed face a moment before casting Drowse on him. The wolf falls asleep on the ground, breathing contently as he dreams.
“You better take good care of him,” I say to the nephew, making my voice sound aggressive. “Else I’ll make you regret it if you don’t.”
He holds his hands up defensively.
“I swear, He’ll live the rest of his life in luxury.”
“Good.”
I stand up, give a curt nod to both Minotaurs, and leave through the front door. With a deep breath and a moment to focus my mind, I head out into the clear tundra, traveling in a general southeast direction.
45 th of Chillwind, Hour 2 – Frozen North, Clan Hytori – Solaria’s POV
He is extremely vulnerable. My entire being wants nothing more than to rip him limb from limb, hearing the agonizing screams. It is a similar fate to that of his father, but this time I would not regret my actions.
Still, I couldn’t.
As I watch the slow rising and falling of the Clan Hytori chieftain’s sleeping chest, I ignite Telekinesis. Clenching my hand, the spell seizes his lungs in place, completely removing their ability to inhale and exhale.
The chieftain jolts awake, silently clawing at his chest. He sees me and tries to stand, but I use Telekinesis with my other hand to hold him in place. I remain silent as he struggles to bring air into his lungs, only his eyes flickering about in panic.
“It would be so easy to crush your heart,” I snarl out after a bout of silence. “to cause it to burst in your chest. It would be fitting, considering you destroyed mine!”
His wild eyes stare at mine.
“Even better, I could wipe out your entire clan with a wave of my hand, leaving you alive to experience the aftermath, and you would be powerless to stop me.”
There’s a pause.
“But, I’m going to be the bigger Sentient. I’m going to break the cycle and walk away to let you and your wretch live a long life.”
I let go of his lungs, allowing air to return. He gasps and coughs.
“Someone! Help me!! He cries out, trying to struggle out of my grasp.
No aid comes to him.
Sphere of Silence is such a useful spell…
“Understand this,” I hiss, forcing my telekinetic grasp to squeeze his entire body. “The only reason you will live to see another day is because I made a promise to the one you killed. However, if you try to follow me, or if I ever hear news of you causing trouble again, I swear on your life, I will find you and make you feel more pain than you could ever comprehend. Understand?”
He frantically nods.
“As a reminder of our arrangement,” I draw the dagger that was made for Yorn. In a swift motion, I lightly carve a curled ‘Y’ into his chest. His screams the whole time, the sound falling against the magical walls of Sphere of Silence.
“Let this keep fear in your heart, and allow you to remember that I chose to forgive, instead of ripping you apart.”
I clean the dagger on his rough skin before releasing him completely. As he recovers, I ignite and cast Teleportation, taking myself outside the walls of the camp. I teleport again, this time to the horizon south.
I sheathe the dagger and sit down into the snow, giving myself a chance to think.
All I’ve achieved, everything I’ve built this past quarter-century is gone… Once again, what I grew attached to is destroyed. I can’t allow myself to become vulnerable again.
My face hardens.
Everything has betrayed me, has let me down… Everything except my training and my anger…
I stand up.
What else is there for me to lose but my life? I may have promised to break the cycle with that leathersack, but I have no reason to do so with Celestia… She needs to be broken, brought to her knees… Hmm, I can’t do this alone however…
I check through my new pack and look over my weapons before strapping everything onto my body.I begin my journey south towards Zebrica in search a force capable of removing that traitorous sahkira from her position of power.
Author's Note
And alas, the first arc of Outcast has come to a close. It went through many variations, trials, and rewrites, but finally it's out completely. The next arc will take a bit longer to get out, as I want to work on my 1st person writing as well as writing entirely. Hopefully, I'll be much more refined by then.
As always, please leave a comment telling me your questions, concerns, criticisms, or general thoughts!
Here's a better explanation of the spells used if you're interested, written in this Google Doc .
--Thanks to HoneyBacho for assisting with editing and world continuity
Year 2532, 40 th of Chillwind, Hour 2 – Unknown Location – Solaria’s POV
The feeling of warmth is the first sensation I notice as I return from my dreamless slumber. It is enjoyable, until a harsh realization strikes me.
Last I remember, there was a cold, dark shed, not a cozy hearth…
My eyes jolt open as my heart rate jumps. They flick about, taking in the sights in front of me. A stone fireplace with a metal cage sits in the wall, a warm crackling fire behind the cage. I feel around under the blanket I’m wrapped in.
My armor is no longer on my person. Adrenaline flashes into my veins. I flick my ears around, trying to find a sound beyond the fire.
From behind me I hear hoofsteps on the wood.
“I know you’re awake. Don’t be frightened,” A deep voice says.
A deep voice characteristic of a Minotaur. My body goes into overdrive as I throw the blanket from my body and leap to my feet. The Minotaur is a few meters behind me, holding his hands out in front of him.
With my magic partly restored, I ignite Telekinesis and grab the Minotaur with the spell. As I pin the beast’s arms to his side, a skinny, gray wolf begins to ferociously growl at me from the foot of a bed. With my other hand, I use Telekinesis to pin the wolf against the wall.
I look back at the Minotaur with a furious glare, increasing the pressure from my telekinetic grasp.
“Wait! Stop this!” The Minotaur begs, struggling against my hold.
I open my mouth, ready to give him a burning retort.
“Please,” he says, barely audible. “Don’t kill me…”
The genuine tone in his voice catches me off guard for a second.
“Give me one reason why I shouldn’t incinerate you right now,” I hiss, no longer crushing him.
“I saved your life!”
“Really? And what would bring you to do such a thing? The kindness of your heart?”
“I didn’t want to stand by as another fell to Orn’gar’s sick slave trade.”
“Orn’gar?”
“The Minotaur running the bar. He has a slave trade for Clan Hytori. I thought you were going to be another victim of his, but you escaped. Knowing that you were alone, I didn’t want to allow him to take you like he has several before.”
I release him from my grasp, cancelling Telekinesis on the Minotaur.
“Do not get up,” I threaten as the Minotaur begins to stand.
I ignite and cast Internal Scan on myself, checking to see if I harmed by the beast. After an in-depth check, I see that my body was left untouched.
“Could, could you please release Drukl? He doesn’t like you restraining him.”
I look at the Minotaur, following his finger to the wolf still my telekinetic grasp.
“If I release him, he’ll attack me.”
“He won’t, trust me. Besides, what could a wolf do to you when you have magic?”
He has a point…
I release the wolf from my grasp. As it connects with the ground, it whimpers and scampers behind the Minotaur.
Both the Minotaur and I warily eye each other.
“Can I stand,” he asks after a minute of silence.
I nod, stepping back as he does.
Despite this Minotaur’s answer, I still don’t trust him…
“I haven’t given you a reason to not trust me,” he says.
“Well, you haven’t given me a reason to trust— Wait, how did you know what I was thinking?”
“I can read other’s minds if I focus on them, allowing me to see their past memories and their current thoughts. It’s an ability those of my bloodline have always had.”
I nod.
This Minotaur is either insane or a liar…
“I can guarantee, I am neither of those things.”
“Alright fine! You’ve proven you can use telepathy, now quit it.”
The awkward silence returns to the room as both of us remain in our unofficial standoff.
“Can you only spy on other’s memories and thoughts, or can you cast other spells?” I ask, only to break the awful silence.
‘Well,” he slowly says, seeming to think out his words carefully. “Yes, I can perform magic, yes, but in terms of casting, I don’t need to do that in order to use telepathy.”
He starts to mutter a few words.
“Ahh, you don’t need to do that,” I cut him off, igniting a shield spell. “You’ve already proven your abilities.”
Another moment of silence.
“My name’s Yorn, by the way.” He hesitantly sticks his hand out.
I look at his hand for a moment.
“And I’m Solaria…”
His hand drops.
“I… wish we could’ve met through better circumstances,” He says.
I don’t respond.
“There, uhm, isn’t exactly a nice place for you to sleep—”
“The floor will be fine,” I interject.
I back up to retrieve my pack, keeping the ‘Yorn’ within eyesight. I untie my bedroll and set it up. As it unrolls, I see an enormous dried blood stain on the top that I had missed.
Somehow…
“I can just grab a—"
“I’ll be fine without it,” I interrupt.
Yorn turns to a closet along the wall, opening the door and stepping inside. Sounds of rustling and shifting objects comes from the closet. The wolf, having crawled back to his bed, also notices the sounds.
Yorn reappears, carrying a wrapped bag. From within, he pulls out a bedroll.
“Here,” he holds it out to me.
“I said I’ll be fine,” my tone hardens.
He shoves the bedroll into my arms.
“Take it!. You can replace your ruined one tomorrow, but for now, just take this.”
He sighs deeply.
“Look, I understand you haven’t had the best experiences with Minotaurs, but I am not like Hytori. In fact, most of us aren’t! So please, give me a chance.”
“You’ve given me no reason to believe such a thing, except tell me ‘you’re not like Hytori,’” I snap, dropping the bedroll to cross my arms in front of me.
“I have given you several reasons!”
He holds back, taking another deep breath before continuing. “But, I’ll leave you to believe what you want.”
The Minotaur walks past me to a door next to the fireplace.
“We can discuss the terms of your staying here tomorrow,” he quietly says, before disappearing to the other side of the door.
As the door closes behind him, I feel something staring at me. My eyes meet with the wolf’s, who’s laying in its bed across from me. The judgement seeping from this animal is intense; its face almost twisted into a glare.
“Don’t you judge me!” I defend myself. “I have no reason to believe his words are truthful! If anything, I should take them as false comfort!”
The animal gives a disdainful snort, curling into a ball.
I sit against the wall next to the fireplace and rest my face in my hands.
“Uhgh, can’t believe I’m arguing with a wolf.”
Its head lifts.
“No, not a wolf,” my eyes narrow at it. “but a dog .”
The ‘dog’ doesn’t respond. Still, I gain a sense of satisfaction.
I stand again, grabbing the bedroll and use the Harmful Detection spell to search for signs of dangerous substances. There are none.
Maybe I’m being too harsh on that Minotaur…
I look at the door he had exited through a few minutes before.
He gets one chance...
40 th of Chillwind, Hour 7 – Norrg’kl, Yorn’s Home – Solaria’s POV
I awake from another dreamless slumber. At first, I feel a sense of confusion as to why I wasn’t in an enclosed tent in the wasteland. My heartrate begins to pick up before the memories of earlier return.
I whip around, looking for the Minotaur. The action causes my loose mane to fall over my good eye. I pull it back, finding the Minotaur asleep in his bed. I again cast Internal Scan on myself as a general precaution, finding that I’m still left untouched.
After cancelling the spell, I quietly move to my pack at the foot of my bedroll, filtering though my equipment. Nothing is missing.
A groggy voice comes from my right.
“Your things weren’t disturbed…”
I look to the Minotaur as he awakens, choosing to bite my tongue rather than retort. He clears his throat before standing and stretching. As he gets up, the wolf follows suit. It switches from being dead asleep to overly energetic in half of a second, bounding around its master’s legs.
The Minotaur walks through the door by the fireplace, disappearing for a minute. When he returns, he has a large slab of raw meat in his grasp. The meat is set into the wolf’s bowl.
Watching the animal devour its meal is a sight.
I didn’t realize eating could be such a messy and gruesome event…
The Minotaur—
I suppose I should call him by his name…
--‘Yorn’ walks to his kitchen area. I watch him as he sparks a small fire within a little half-sphere cutout in the stone counter. While ‘Yorn’ mixes various ingredients into a bowl, I move from my pack to a small, wooden, two-seated table, tying my mane into a loose bun in the back.
“Are you hungry,” he asks.
“I’ll be fine.”
A loud growl crawls its way from my stomach.
I sigh, feeling betrayed by my own body. “Yes… I am.”
‘Yorn’ says nothing, only smiling as he works on the food.
After a few minutes, faint bubbling can be heard from the kitchen. Yorn pulls two bowls from a wall cupboard, placing them next to the cooking food. He scoops two large wads of gray sludge with a ladle, emptying the contents into each bowl before walking around the counter to a table.
He sits across from me, sliding a bowl over before bringing the bowl to his mouth. I grasp the bowl, studying its contents.
What’s within looks exactly like wet concrete, to an unsettling degree. I smell the sludge, receiving no aroma.
As I wasn’t provided with silverware, I follow the Minotaur’s action.
Before the liquid can touch my mouth, I hesitate. My mind questions the possibility of poison having been mixed with this muck. In the end, I push the thought aside, slurping a small amount from the bowl while staying aware of my surroundings.
The warmth that floods across my body is greatly accepted. Surprisingly, the sludge doesn’t hold any taste beyond the lightest flavor of spices. I gulp down the rest, finishing the bowl not long after the Minotaur finishes his. It’s nice to eat a full meal, despite it being tasteless.
“Okay, first order of business,” he says, stifling a belch. “You are planning to stay here, correct?”
“…For now.”
“Alright. Now, I would let you stay here without charge, but I get the feeling you aren’t the type to freeload.”
“What an intelligent observation,” I snark.
‘Yorn’ sighs.
“Would you have an issue with learning the art of smithing?”
“No.”
“Are you sure? A Minotaur will be teaching you…”
The amount of sarcasm from his comment is unbelievable.
Okay, I deserved that…
“Yes… I will deal with it,” I say through gritted teeth.
“A final question, do you have any form of working attire? Neither your armor nor your under-armor will cut it.”
“Lucky for you, I have something that will suffice. Where can I change?”
Yorn points to an ajar door farthest from us with a thumb. I pull my pack to my arms with Telekinesis, walking through the door. Inside is a bathroom with an extremely modern appearance. Even with a glance, I can tell everything from the mirrors to the tiled bathtub is new.
Hmm, I’ll have to see about a bath tonight…
I unlock the under-armor at the nape of my neck and begin to strip it off.
==|000|==
After changing from my under-armor to a clean deep purple t-shirt and gray camouflaged combat pants, I exit the bathroom and walk over to the table. The Minotaur turns to look at me, giving a scrutinizing stare.
“Hey,” I snap my fingers. “I’m not modeling these for you to stare at.”
“Sorry,” he mumbles with a flustered tone, looking away. “I was expecting something warmer, that’s all…”
“Oh, I apologize for not preparing enough gear for an extended stay in this frozen Tartarus!” I stalk over to the bedroll and drop my pack on it.
“I… know it’s a sudden jump, but would you be fine with watching the shop while I go out for a few hours?”
“I can handle a shop, just show me where everything is.”
The Minotaur stands and gestures for me to follow him. He leads me through the door near the fireplace. On the other side is a large workshop.
It has everything a blacksmith could need, from a circular stone-laden forge to a cylindrical metal smelter. Large workbenches and metal shelves containing tools and simple materials line the walls, with the black anvil next to the forge. A door is directly to my left as I enter into the workshop, which I assume leads outside.
The entire room is disregarded as I’m led past it all through another door. The actual shop is through here.
The room is nice. It’s filled with weapons, tools, light armor, and metal-based supplies set on display. A single, four-paned window next to the front door lets the gray light in as ‘Yorn’ and I step in behind a counter.
“It’s quite simple,” he says. “Basically, stand here and take the payments of anyone wanting to purchase things. I have a stock book under the counter here, next to the safe. Look through it to find the costs of the stock. Oh, and put any revenue in the safe.”
I’m shown the safe and given the combination codes. Yorn also shows me around the room, pointing out where everything is located.
“Now then, I should only be gone for a few hours. If you’re unsure of something, wait until I get back, okay?”
“Sure,” I say.
The Minotaur head to the front door, unlocking and exiting through it.
As he leaves, I find the stock book from under the counter. I grab it and flip it open, beginning to half-heartedly pour through the numbers listed.
40 th of Chillwind, Hour 15 – Yorn’s Shop – Solaria’s POV
Not at all surprising, the day was slow. Not a single customer, Minotaur or otherwise, showed their face while Yorn was gone. I guess that’s a blessing in a sense, but it made the hours extremely boring.
When Yorn returned from his ‘adventure,’ he showed me to the shed I had hidden in. Its true purpose was a storage locker for most of the raw materials used in the Minotaur’s creations.
After becoming enlightened with that information, he gave me several simple tasks to keep me busy. It is quite obvious that I’m this blacksmith’s first employee.
Finally, six hours after the doors were opened, someone appeared in the store. They were a Minotaur, but it was a welcome change of atmosphere to hear another voice outside of ‘Yorn’s.’ The two beasts chatted lightly, speaking of another Minotaur Clan from the north.
After the patron leaves, taking a decent metal axe with him, Yorn brings me to the workshop.
“Would you go and bring me five iron rocks from the shed?” he asks. “They’re in the bin marked ‘Iron.’
I silently comply, holding back a retort.
I continue past the Minotaur, leaving the warmth of the workshop through the outside door. Immediately after leaving, my body is hit with a freezing cold blast of wind. The blizzard from last night had fully past, leaving several extra inches of snow on the ground. A small filter of sunlight fell from the sky, which was a surprise to be sure.
The light did little to improve the conditions however. I sharply inhale, igniting and casting Exposure onto myself. The freezing atmosphere fades as the spell adapts my body to resist the cold weather.
That’s more like it… If only I could’ve used this last night…
I step into the shed, finding the bin with the iron ore. Touching the first rock, it feels ice cold, even through Exposure. I use Telekinesis to grab the ores instead. As I leave the shed and step towards Yorn’s home, my ears flick towards crunching snow from my right.
My head instinctively pulls back as a fist flies through the air where my muzzle was. Standing right next to me is a Minotaur, more specifically one I recognized from the night before in the bar.
I bring my leg up, crushing his genitals with my shin. He drops to the ground, not making a sound. More snow-crunching comes from behind me. Two other Minotaurs from the bar come around a corner. Using the ore in my telekinetic grasp, I hurl the rocks in their direction. Both are knocked to the ground as the rocks impact with their faces.
I pull the ores back to me before backing into the workshop.
“Leave me the farak alone , or I’ll melt your faces off!”
I slam the door shut and set a door bolt into place.
“What’s going on,” he asks.
“Don’t worry about it,” I growl.
“But—”
“I’ll handle it!” I snarl out.
Yorn holds up his hands.
“Alright, I’ll leave it alone.” He takes the ore from my grasp. “But know you’re not alone in this anymore.”
I stand there, processing Yorn’s words as I try to calm myself.
“Those three Minotaurs that’re hunting for me, who are they?”
Yorn looks up from the smelter.
“They work for Orn’gar. He runs the bar. He also runs a ‘secret’ slave trade for Clan Hytori, although everyone knows about it. Those three are Ked, Duh’n and Ce’eh. Orn’gar uses them as his hunters. They’re absolute morons, but they know how to do their job.”
“So, you’re telling me I’m going to have to deal with those three while I stay here?”
“Most likely.”
That’s not ideal… But I know exactly how to handle them…
Hmph, give me ten minutes,” I say, cracking my knuckles. “And I’ll put an end to Orn’gar’s entire system.”
“You’re not going to be killing anyone, now sit down and pay attention if you want to learn anything.”
I roll my eyes, focusing on Yorn’s words, although my plans for those hunters never fully fell to the background.
40 th of Chillwind, Hour 30 – Yorn’s Shop – Solaria’s POV
For the rest of the day, I watch and listen as Yorn explains how each set of equipment functions and serves the overall picture. To be honest, most of it went over my head. In the same sense as I was his first employee, it seems as though I’m also the first he’s ever taught.
That night, as Yorn fixes up another meal, I do my best to recall what I had been taught. Not long after, a bowl of steaming stew is set in front of me. Its appearance is much more appetizing than the ‘oatmeal’ from this morning. The smells of root vegetables and meat stock makes me feel hungrier than before.
“I wasn’t sure if you Anthow’s eat meat or not,” Yorn says, sitting across from me with his own bowl. “so I went with a more plant-based meal.”
“We can eat meat, but many consider it a vile practice,” I respond after cooling the bowl and downing almost half. “Personally, I couldn’t care less. Besides, Anthow’piovel need the proteins, so I fail to understand why it’s such a taboo.”
I begin to take another gulp when the most pitiful whine ever conceived shrieks through my ears. I look down to my right. Sitting next to me is the wolf, trying his best to win over my heart with oversized eyes.
Fortunately, my heart is made of stone.
“Interesting creature you have here,” I comment, watching the wolf’s begging.
“Oh, that’s Drukl,” Yorn says. “The word means, ‘Strange One’ in Tauros, which I think is quite fitting. You’ll learn that trying to figure him out will result in nothing but wasted time.”
The begging from the wolf switches from sad to creepy, as the animal hasn’t blinked since I caught on to his tactic.
“Strange one indeed.”
I try to ignore the animal and eat, but the intense gaze remains. The longer I can feel it, the more annoyed I become.
“Okay,” I set the bowl down and look at the wolf again. “This has gone on long enough!”
While I was focusing on my food, Drukl had scooched closer, now sitting right next to my leg.
‘Whatever you’re attempting, it’s not going to work. In fact, it’s doing the opposite. So please, quit it!”
He continues to stare, his tongue lolling out from the side of his mouth. I sharply sigh and try to push him away with a hand. He topples over onto the ground and starts to loudly snore.
“…”
“You’ll get used to this,” Yorn laughs.
What has my life become? I get stuck in the center of the Minotaur Lands, almost am taken into slavery, and the one Minotaur that has a consciousness has telepathy and a delusional pet…
I finish the rest of the food, wishing I had a side of alcohol to go with it.
Now then, a final order of business for the night…
“Go for it,” Yorn says as he stands and walks past me.
“…”
“I—”
“I don’t care as long as you keep it clean,” the Minotaur says from his rocking chair, a book in hand.
I hate him…
I pull my pack to me with Telekinesis again, flipping off the Minotaur before entering into the bathroom. After locking the door, I take a closer look at the interior. The whole room is styled after an Equestrian bathroom, from the tiled bathtub, all the way to the placemat.
How peculiar… I wonder how he found all this stuff, let alone got it here…
I remember Hytori and their methods of obtaining Equestrian materials.
On second thought, it might be better to forget it…
I twist the bathtub’s hot water knob as far as it can go, mixing it slightly with cold. As the tub fills, I unzip a side pocket on my pack. From within, I pull out two bottles of basic mane shampoo and fur shampoo, setting both on the bathtub’s rim.
Never thought I would use those…
I turn off the water after several minutes, stripping the casual attire from my body and toss the articles near my pack. Instant relief floods over my body as I step into the steaming water, sinking in up to my neck.
For as long as I can last, I do nothing but let the hot water soak into my fur and skin before becoming cleaner than I’ve been in the past week.
==|000|==
For the first time in five days, I feel refreshed. Back when I was Captain, I never cared too much about cleanliness, but going that long without so much a dip in water is pushing it.
I step out from the bathtub, igniting and casting Fire Cloak on myself to dry out my fur and mane.
After slipping back into my casual attire, I put the quarter-empty bottles back into their rightful pocket.
With my pack in tow, I exit the bathroom and walk over to my bedroll. Both Yorn and Drukl are asleep in their beds. Instead of joining them in slumber, I set my gear at the end of the bedroll and prepare Magical Meditation.
From now on, as long as I intend to remain in Norrg’kl, I need to spend every moment I can in my Meditative Plane. Especially if I ever hope to escape this wretched place…
41 st of Chillwind, Hour 8 – Yorn’s Home – Solaria’s POV
I pull out of Magical Meditation, returning to reality. As my eye adjusts to the real world, I feel a new presence that was not there before I entered into my Plane. I slowly look down at my crossed legs.
With his head in my lap, drooling profusely, is Drukl.
…
HOW IN THE CREATOR’S NAME DID I NOT SENSE THIS!!?!
I resist the urge to splatter this mentally challenged wolf’s body along the wall. For his sake however, I didn’t want to fall on bad terms with his master. This is the only reason I roll him away semi-gently instead of launching him through the roof.
Thankfully, the ‘dog’ didn’t bother me as I eat.
“Is there a secluded spot within Norrg’kl,” I ask.
“There is,” Yorn responds. “Why?”
“My concern with it is none of your business.” I snap.
Thinking of magic, thinking of magic, thinking of magic…
Yorn gives me a skeptical expression.
“…The most secluded spot I can thing of would be behind the warehouses at the northmost point…” he says, watching me closely.
“Alright,” I say, thinking about several different spells.
I gather my armor, pack, and under-armor with Telekinesis, dipping into the workshop and heading to the shed outside before Yorn can ask any more questions. I cast Exposure onto myself, quickly changing from my casual attire to my armor. My shortsword, axe, and Glaze’s pistol are strapped onto my body as well.
With my weapons secure, I step out from the shed and work my way to the warehouses Yorn spoke of.
==|000|==
This new day had returned to the standard Frozen North weather, no longer allowed the sun to shine. It instead covered the settlement with a thick layer of fog. The winds were blowing hard, making it difficult to travel.
On top of the fog and winds, finding the warehouses is not as easy as Yorn made it sound, especially as I try to get around without drawing unwanted attention.
Thankfully, as I find the stone and wood buildings, the activity of others is non-existent. Just me and the three hunters that have been trailing me since I left the shed.
I slip between the two structures, squeezing my way to the back. There’s nothing behind except a snow-covered clearing between the buildings and the outer walls. I walk to the center of the clearing and turn to face the warehouses, crossing my arms.
“I know you’re out there. You all can’t grasp the concept of stealth,” I call out, easily hearing the poor attempts at sneaking from the ‘hunters.’
From around the outer warehouse walls steps the three, two on my left side and one on my right. The two on the left hold rope and strips of cloth; the right one draws a crossbow, notched with a bolt.
I flip back the hood, revealing my purple and gold helmet.
“Come with us quietly,” the Minotaur with the crossbow commands. “Or we’ll do this the ‘fun’ way.”
“Hmm,” I say. “The fun way sounds more entertaining.”
I ignite and cast Sphere of Silence, sending the range of the spell out to the warehouses.
The Minotaurs all share a glance.
I duck back as the bolt from the crossbow cuts through the air in front of me. The two on the left charge at me, one of them drawing a battle-axe.
Drawing the shortsword with a quick brandishing, I deflect a strike from the axe, spinning around and sliding the blade along the Minotaur’s back. He yells out, falling forward. The second Minotaur reaches for me, the rope in his other hand.
I draw Glaze’s pistol, activating the blaster. I point the barrel at the second Minotaur, firing two MCB rounds into the beast’s chest.
The blue energy bursts out from the barrel, tearing into the Minotaur and searing small holes in his chest. He collapses onto the ground as I turn and fire three more shots into the Minotaur with the axe.
The last Minotaur has reloaded his crossbow, aiming it at me again with panic on his face. I smirk, igniting Telekinesis and ripping the crossbow from his grasp. He turns to flee after losing his weapon, but I latch onto his legs and drag him over to me.
“Orn’gar chose the wrong Anthow to mess with,” I snarl, drawing my survival axe from its belt and unsheathing it. “And I think you’re the perfect subject to use as a message for him…”
The last Minotaur screams, trying to crawl away. His cries are silenced by the Sphere.
Orn’gar’s POV
I hate the daytime. There’s nothing to do. Business is slow, meaning profit is slow. And to add insult to injury, those absolute idiots still haven’t found that Unicorn! It can’t be that hard! With a body like hers, she’s a curved sword amongst broken hammers!
I storm into my storage room in the back, searching for something strong enough to help me cope with the idiocy I
was working with. Grabbing a thick bottle of whiskey, I undo the cork and take a massive swig.
The rocking sound of my back door exploding inward makes me spit my drink everywhere. I spin around in surprise, ready to face whatever’s assaulting my building.
Lying on the floor, blood still flowing from the gaping wound, is Ked without his body.
“K-Ked…?” I stutter, inching over to him.
I shakily pull a rolled piece of parchment from his gaping mouth. Drawn in blood, the messy words running down the page, is:
Your death will not be as painless
I stare at the words, realizing who’s the cause of this brutality, before throwing the parchment away from me. Grabbing my whiskey, I return to the main room, feeling shaken to the core. I down what remains in the bottle, taking a deep breath as the burning liquid slides into my stomach.
Out through my door window, my eyes catch something purple and yellow.
Across the street, where I saw the Unicorn disappear two nights ago, is her, the Demoness. The one-eyed gaze she sends to me sends pulses of terror into my veins. I duck down behind my counter, reaching for the dagger I keep hidden underneath. It’s clutched against my chest.
The door fiercely flings open.
My composure disappears as a shrill scream leaves my lungs.
“Orn’gar! What the farak is your problem!?”
I refuse to move, keeping my eyes shut tight and the dagger clenched in my shaking hands.
“Hey! Orn’gar!”
A hand shakes my shoulder. My eyes open and the dagger instinctively shoots forward.
“What in the All-Father’s name is wrong with you?!”
I look up, seeing Julr stepping back from me.
“O-oh,” I stutter, silently praising the All-Father. “I-it’s just you, J-Julr.”
“What’s wrong?” I hear F’jub’s voice ask.
I stand up, peering past him to look out the door window. The Demoness is gone.
“Well?”
“I-I’m fine! Heh…” I nervously laugh. “J-just had too much to drink… Heh heh…”
The two share a concerned glance before ordering their desired drinks. As they tell me what they want, my mind can’t lose the image of the Demoness, and the bloody threat still sitting in my storage room.
Solaria’s POV
I watch Orn’gar’s head disappear behind the counter before ducking around to the back door of Yorn’s home. I enter into the shop, making brief eye contact with Yorn as I head into his living area.
I start to strip off the armor plates when Yorn appears in the doorway.
“What did you do?!” his alarmed voice causes me to stop doffing my armor.
I pause for a moment before continuing to remove the plates.
“I did what was necessary.”
“I figured you were going to scare Orn’gar and his hunters, not murder them!”
Yorn steps over and grabs my donned gauntlet, blood still staining the metal. I jerk my arm from his grasp.
“Orn’gar’s still alive!” I snap. “And his hunters wouldn’t have stopped their harassing unless I killed them!”
“There were several paths you could’ve taken!” Yorn protests, regret mixed with his tone. “But you chose the worst! Why?!”
Hot anger flashes across my body.
“Maybe because VIOLENCE IS ALL YOU LEATHERSACKS UNDERSTAND!!”
Yorn steps back. I notice the hum of magical energy crackling around me.
“Your kind has done nothing but steal, torture, and violate my race!” I continue. “There is no reason or excuse you could give that would justify their actions!”
“Their actions may not be right, but taking revenge against them is not the way to solve this, nor is it the way to solve anything!”
“You have no right to lecture me on what’s right or wrong…” I snarl, dangerously close to beating the life from this sahkira.
‘Enough!” Yorn yells. “We will end this discussion now before either of us does something we’ll regret, but if you wish to continue staying here, you will not senselessly murder anyone else!”
We both glare at each other, loose objects whipping around the room from the magic surrounding my body.
“When you regain control of your senses, you can join me in the workshop!” Yorn sternly says. “But until then, I suggest you get ahold of your magic before you break something…”
Yorn turns around and storms back through the doorway to the workshop.
I don’t move, holding still and trying to not explode with fury.
That FARAKING leathersack thinks he can dictate my actions! But, for now, I will play by his rules… I’ve already done what I needed to… And soon I’ll be strong enough to leave…
I silently doff the rest of my armor and cleaning the blood stains. Without a word, I change back into my casual attire and join Yorn in his workshop.
Author's Note
Alright, will all the previously posted chapters back up, the story will fall into a weekly upload starting next Sunday for Chapters 6-9.
Also, I remade the Magical Spell Explanation™ stuff, sticking it into this Google Doc instead of the Author's Note. I feel like that method will work better than it did before. It will be updated as more chapters are uploaded.
As always, feel free to leave a comment!
--Thanks to HoneyBacho for assisting with editing and world continuity
