Shattered Souls

Shattered Souls
Chapter 2: Ashen Souls

Opal stepped delicately over the rubble left in the first story of her house. The gaping wound in the wall and roof across her let the wind to carry a chilling breeze through the room. A thin coat of gray and white ash had coated the remains of everything in sight; the charred bureau, the ruined and flaked papers stacked on various surfaces, even the shriveled and mutilated couch.

So much had been lost, but then, so many of these pages had seemed strangely empty before. Time and time again, she had started writing something, but had lost its basic idea and left it there to wait, never returning to it.

She let out a sigh, shaking her head. Thankfully, her journals had been untouched, but virtually everything else had been scorched beyond repair. Collections of novels and histories that had taken her years to amass had all been lost in the blaze.

She looked around, wondering where this fire had started. There seemed to be no real start to the blaze. Everything seemed equally marred, and stained with the ash of what had used to be the simply designed wallpaper that had adorned the living room.

She rummaged through some of what had remained, trying to see if there was in fact, anything that had not been damaged. She tried not to lean in too close, as pushed around the rubble with a forehoof; she did not want to risk breathing in the ash.

Beneath a pile of split and blackened wood she spotted a small patch of forest green. Against the dark and bleak remnants of the beams above, now scattered across the floor, the dark green did not stand out much. The lack of color in the room, though, made it seem as that little spot was an oasis of color.

She pushed each section of the darkened planks off, one by one, trying not to disturb the little treasured shadow of hope.

Giddy with apprehension, Opal could barely contain a jump in triumph. Coated in the thin veil of ash, Opal could still make out the elaborate inset of the thick tome's title; Discord; A History.

An older copy of the work, the book held more sentimental value to her than anything else. She was only a filly when Discord was banished by the princesses, but more importantly to her; this 800 page volume had been the first real book she had read. Though its multitude of lengthy pages and scientific diagrams lead only to more questions as to his origins, this particular copy had been a gift to her by her grandmother, and she had read it with zeal.

She leaned in close, trying not to breathe in the ashes as she gently blew as much of the constricting ash from the volume's cover as she could. She picked it up softly in her mouth, trying not to damage it as she placed in her saddle-pack. She trotted out beneath the door hanging loose from its hinges, glad that chance had been kind enough to spare her this, at least.

* * * * * *

“ . . . . Thankfully Hammerspark was kind enough to offer me his cot,” Opal said to Duurt, the Valley Dog owner of the coffee shop.

The heavily muscled dog placed a steaming mug of coffee on the table. This one, unlike the cup from two days before, was the same size as a normal cup, and was a strong and rich black whose steam rent the air with a much more pungent, bitter aroma.

She took a shallow sip, blowing on it as she cautiously put her lips to it. It was definitely strong enough to get through the day, but so was the more overpowering taste.

She turned for a moment, suddenly realizing that she had forgotten to pay for the drink.

“Wait,” She called, catching Duurt as he started to turn away, “How much do I owe you?”

“Nothing,” He turned back, the words barely seeming to get through his sagged jowls, “It's on the house.”

“You're not sure I couldn't. . . “Her voice trailed off. The last thing she wanted was for Duurt to take pity on him. He was a good friend, and she didn't like even the idea of taking advantage of their friendship.

“Besides,” He cut her off, a mischievous smirk lifting the side of his jowls, “Ah think its high time Hammerspark's wallet go' a break.”

“Wha. . ?!” Opal stammered, shocked. “I haven't borrowed that much from him.”

The valley dog simply shook his head and walked away, smiling to himself, shaking with unheard laughter.

She looked down, thinking of all the small things he had helped her with. Surely there was some way to repay him. For right now, though, she needed to find out how the fire had spread.

The fires in town had seemed to start on the outer edge of town; seemingly further away from her house than any number of buildings. Even more strange, though, was that while her house had thick wooden shingles, the straw thatched houses nearer to her house had ignited after hers. She was glad that they had not suffered as much collateral damage as her home, but it was something that she did not readily understand.

“Duurt,” she called to him again. It was not quite noon, and the coffee house was spars of any other customers. “Do you where the fires started?”

He picked up a dirty cup that was still on a table, the answer coming as a low rumble, “Im not sure, I was sleepin'.”

He strode off towards the kitchen, his strange gait wobbling him back and forth as he mumbled to himself, “'Till tha' damned fire at least. Damned fire an' all its noise. How's a dog suppos' ta sleep wi' all that racket!”

Opal stifled a laugh. Duurt was a professional at finding things to complain about. The fire had left only a few half-burnt houses and one or two scrapes on a few ponies. Most of the dogs lived in burrows of earth and stone, and so had almost no problems.

Still, the fire seemed wrong somehow, though she did not quite understand why. She stepped out onto the path, heading towards a small hill to the south; hoping that she might see just what was bothering her.

* * * * * *

Opal looked down on the quaint little town in Splendid Valley from a nearby hill, breathing in the chilled noon air. It was not very high, but it rose just high enough for her to be able to see most of the town from her standpoint. In the distance, she could see what little damage that had been suffered was being quickly fixed. Straw thatched roofs were being replaced, and holes in the siding of the small houses where being shored up with new wooden beams.

She let loose a soft sigh, lost in the swift, brisk winds. From her point on the gentle hill she could see Hammerspark, using his magic to help people to rebuild their houses; lifting up beams or the sidings while they would nail them down. She knew he would still be exhausted from helping fight the fire, but this was his home, and he would do anything to help his neighbors.

Even after three years, Opal did not feel quite at home in Splendid Valley. To her, home would always be inside the sparkling walls of the Crystal Kingdom. She knew those magnificent spires were a hollow dream for her, though; they would only be reminders of her grandmother. Mica was the only family she had, and when she was gone, she just couldn't bear to live there anymore.

Opal focused back on the city, wrenching her thoughts away from distant memories. While various houses were blackened and in varying states of disrepair, the surrounding grass seemed to be barely singed. Even more puzzling was that the seemingly random collection of homes and shops that had been damaged seemed sometimes as distant as three or four buildings between them, without so much as a mark on the buildings in between. It was as if the fire had no source.

She gazed behind her over to the east, seeing the sun lowering itself behind some clouds. Winter was on its way, and tonight was going to be long and cold. She headed back down the hillock, thanking Celestia that ponies were born with fur.

* * * * * *

Hammerspark let out a breath he did not realize he was holding as he let down the telekinetic field around a thick wooden beam. It was not the heaviest he could lift, but he had been moving things around all day, and he was quickly developing a headache. Not to mention the dull pressure left from the bruises inured by the fire incident.

He panted, trying to catch his breath again.

“Are you alright?” Called a carpenter pony, balancing on the partially open rooftop.

Hammerspark nodded slowly, pausing a moment before replying.

“Yeah,” He said, slurring his words just a little bit, “Just don't remember being so heavy.”

The earthpony shouted back from above, “I think I can take it from here, why don't you go home, get some rest. The town'll still be here tomorrow.”

The voice sounded muffled to Hammerspark. Maybe it is time to stop, he thought to himself. He looked up again and simply nodded, walking off, dragging his hooves back towards his house.

* * * * * *

Opal trotted past Hammerspark's house into town. She had seen him walk back into the house earlier, and was glad that he could get some extra sleep in. It was better, she had decided, that she let him get a little rest before she went in to sleep. As the bedroom of her house was on the second floor, she had nowhere else to sleep, and the floor rooms had become rather breezy after the fires.

She walked down the dirt road, now packed down by ponies working to fix their homes and hardened by the cold.

Hopefully Duurt was still awake, she thought to herself. Not that she needed any more coffee; she was going to have a hard time sleeping anyway. She needed someone to talk to, and everypony else was busy.

As she walked in through the swinging salon doors of Duurt's coffee house, she felt a strange, cold shudder run down her back and into her shoulders. She glanced around the empty room. The room was well lit and kept, but something still felt wrong. It felt as if air had changed somehow.

“Duurt?” She called, hoping for all of Equestria that nothing had happened to her friend.

A small clang came from the kitchen, though it sounded distant. Opal straitened nervously, but any fear she had quickly succumbed to her curiosity as she stepped softly towards the kitchen entrance. Subconsciously holding her breath, she leaned slowly around the open door, trying not to fall as she lifted one of her hind legs for balance.

“Opal?” The gravelly voice of Duurt questioned as she leaned almost into his face.

Startled, she lost her balance and tumbled forward onto the floor. Duurt laughed as she picked herself up, blushing in embarrassment.

“What're ya doin' here child?,” He asked, turning back to adjust a seemingly complicated array of dials and knobs on the three large boilers on the back wall, “No' for more coffee, I hope.”

She smoothed out her mane with her forehoof; dusting herself off from the fall despite the impeccably clean floor.

“I was on my way over, but then something just felt,” She searched for the word, “I'm not sure. But something felt wrong.”

Duurt laughed again, twisting a dial that resulted in another small clang before turning to face her again.

“Tha' would be ma' tea,” He motioned over to a plain iron kettle sitting on the stove. “Ah usually wait 'till the ponies are all gone to brew it. Summin' 'bout it puts ya'r little 'eads all on edge. Not sure why. Got no smell.”

“Then the. .”

“Yes. Nothing's wrong,” His jowls twisted in a strange, but comforting smile. He stole a side ward glance at the kettle.

“Uh, Ye' probably should be getting' back to Hammerspark's,” He said, searching the cupboards above the stove for a small steel cup, “Only way I kno' how t'get rid of the tea is t'drink it, but it's much to 'ot right now.”

She nodded. He was probably right. She knew the tea was harmless, but she still could not help but shake at the knees. She stepped back out of the salon doors, heading back towards Hammerspark's house; silently wondering what Duurt was drinking that made ponies so afraid.

* * * * * *

Opal stared out the window of Hammerspark's bedroom. Even with how tired he was when he had returned, he had still left his cot and blanket for her to sleep in. Though he had left a few glowing coals, covered so they would not burn anything, she still could not help but feel guilty for sleeping in his bed. After all, this was his house, and she had not even asked.

She laid in bed as soon as she had gotten in, but she could not force herself to fall asleep. Though she was exhausted, she simply laid beneath the covers watching the stars. Her eyes stung as she could not close her eyes, regardless of how heavy her lids were. The images of the suffocating ash and glare of the fire were still burned into her memories and her dreams.

The night sky was clear and dark, a calm sea of black painted with waves of colored stars. It was quiet, though. Too quiet. The dazzling grandeur of stars mosaic distracted Opal only for a few moments, before the silence set its thick roots in her mind.

“Surely, I can't be afraid of everything,” She whispered softly to herself, comforting herself as she stood up to peek out the window.

She leaned over the windowsill, stretching her neck out to look to her left and her right. Unsurprisingly, there was nothing there. There was still no sound though. The silence had grown so thick, now, that she could almost hear it. She focused; straining her ears trying to hear anything, even a cricket or a mouse in the night.

A quiet rustle softly carried itself on the wind from around the corner of the house.

Stepping gently one hoof at a time, Opal climbed down from the low window, and onto the grass below. The stinging cold blades brushed her legs as she moved past, tempting her to jump at the startling chill, but she pressed on silently.

Opal pressed herself onto the side of the wall as she peered around the corner, hoping that the noise was nothing.

In the darkness of the night, she could barely make out what seemed to be a face. A hideous floating face, twisted into an unnatural sneer. The face writhed for a moment, swirling in unnatural ways as the ashen gray face turned towards Opal.