Chapter 6: Endurance
Panic caused Allie Way to thrash against the web holding her fast, despite the clear futility of the action. She was desperately breathing through her nostrils, her mouth covered by the thick, sour web that clung to her entire body. Her eyes frantically glanced about, her thoughts so scattered by fear she couldn’t even tell which directions the Lurkers were dragging her and Blackwall. The sounds of the Lurkers and their many scrabbling feet on the wet ground made a constant patter of scratching noise that only made Allie Way’s nerves more raw. Breathing so heavily through her nose, she couldn’t help but notice that the giant spiders had a slick, pungent odor like burnt toast mixed with old grease. It made her stomach roil.
While she couldn’t be certain just how long she and Blackwall had been carried along, she didn’t think much more than an hour had gone by before before she was roughly shoved up against a tree. One of the web spinning Lurkers scuttled up to her and webbed her to the tree, leaving her hanging there like a morsel waiting to be devoured. Allie Way was sure that was the fate that awaited her, and the thought left her heart pounding in abject panic. Any second she expected to feel the terrible pain of fangs puncturing her helpless body, filling her burning venom that’d liquefy her insides. She cursed her fillyhood schoolteacher who’d insisted on such thorough biology classes, which among other things had included and entirely too detailed lecture on arachnids.
What made it all worse was that she could also see Blackwall strung up in a tree no more than ten paces across from her, even the huge and powerfully muscled earth pony mare was helpless under the sheer layers of webbing holding her down. Allie Way didn’t want to die, she was terrified of the idea... but knowing she’d dragged Blackwall to her death as well was so much more painful a thought to bear.
I shouldn’t have been distracting her with my dumb, dumb questions! If I’d just kept my big mouth shut... oh Allie Way, you stupid pony, you’ve gotten both you and her killed. You’re both going to die horribly any second now, and it’s all your fault.
Much as it made her burn up with shame, she started to cry. She just couldn’t help it. This was too much. She started to wish for the Lurkers fangs to come, just so it could all be over and done with!
To Allie Way’s utter shock, instead of fangs she felt a cold, chitinous claw on her cheek, wiping away her tears. Then a high pitched, scratchy voice spoke.
“Did you know it took me months to discover that when your species makes water from your eyes it can mean all sorts of things? Its very interesting. It can mean you’re in pain, or that there’s stray objects in there, or it’s also a sign of sadness, but also happiness too? Its very odd. I keep thinking there must be a scent component as well, but I’ve never found any ‘onions’ to test the theory on. So, female pony, are you sad, or hurt, or happy? Probably not happy, I suppose, but you never know.”
Allie Way just blinked at the female Lurker with baffled shock. After a moment the Lurker made a soft chittering noise, tapping Allie Way on the head with her claw. “Hello? Miss pony? Why do you not answer me? Wait, how obvious, your mouth is still covered in web! Just a moment.”
With swift, deft motions the Lurker used the sharp edges of her fore claw to cut the web around Allie Way’s mouth. Allie Way took that opportunity to scream from the very bottom of her lungs. Her scream caused a bristling rustle to flow over several other nearby Lurkers, one of the large hairy ones looming over her with its fangs clacking menacingly, but the female Lurker made a sharp whistling sound and Allie Way thought she smelled a strange, almost syrupy sweet tang in the air. The big hunter Lurker backed down and the female returned her attention to Allie Way.
“I’m sorry but could you stop making that noise? It irritates my hunters, and they’ve been so very good and brave today.”
“G-good!? Brave!? You attacked us!” Allie Way shouted, breathing heavily as she tried to calm her racing, panicking mind. The deep breaths weren’t exactly helping that much.
“We had to attack to capture you. It was only sensible.” the female Lurker said as if stating an obvious fact to a less than bright child. “Prisoners can be asked questions. Even you ponies do this. I know. It was done to me.”
“Huh? Done to... you?” Allie Way only became more confused.
“Oh yes yes, you ponies captured me not long ago. Hurt me, asked questions. I tried to learn. I like learning. So I am taking what I learned about ponies. Capture, hurt, ask questions. I hope I won’t have to hurt you too much to get answers. Oh, I’m Leyshi. Let’s start with that. Names are important. What’s your’s?”
Allie Way was about to answer, but a movement from Blackwall caught her eye. Blackwall had manged to turn her head, despite all the webbing holding her fast to the tree she was pinned to. She stared right at Allie Way with her dark eyes flaring with a deathly intensity. Blackwall shook her head, once, and the message was clear; don’t tell the Lurkers anything
Allie Way gulped, fear that already had a strong, clawing grasp on her heart spreading further through her to chill her belly. It didn’t take a particularly bright pony to see where this situation was going to go. The Lurker, Leyshi, had just spelled it out. Talk, or torture.
Brave... I have to be brave... Allie Way told herself, and tried to find that spark of fire that had helped drive her to her one act of courage during the battle of Beartrap Fortress. It was a small flicker, barely enough to hold back the cold freeze of terror, but Allie Way clung to it defiantly.
Leyshi made another chittering noise, an uneven clacking and her body tilted oddly on its eight legs, very much like the way a pony might cock its head in curiosity.
“No name? Or is this a choice? You won’t speak to me? Yes, that does make sense. Other ponies brought to me in Highbounty often refused to talk to me. But some would. That’s how I learned your talk. So let me ask, please female pony, talk to me. I don’t want to hurt you, but hurting you is what I will do. Broodmother Chirziane has given me a task, and you know things I need to know.”
Tears of fear still streamed down her face, but Allie Way kept her mouth grit tightly closed and managed a small shake of her head within the confines of the webbing keeping her still. If only her horn wasn’t so thickly wrapped up she might have gotten away with a spell. Not escaped, but maybe killed the Lurker in front of her, who was clearly in charge of this group.
Leyshi made a soft hissing sound, and the air filled with a sharp, acidic scent. There were more chitters and hisses as more Lurkers emerged from the surrounding shadows, and the big hunter from before leaned down, its every fiber radiating menace.
“Then I’m sorry, little pony.” said Leyshi, “When the pain becomes too much, just scream ‘stop’, and then we can get back to questions.”
The hunter drew closer, its horrific, alien face filling Allie Way’s vision. its eight gleaming, black pearl eyes looked at her without any trace of merciful emotion. Its fangs opened, one going for Allie Way’s shoulder, almost gentle. Allie Way’s heart started to race faster, her fear rising higher with every inch the fang drew close to her flesh.
Even braced for it, when the fang sunk in, and the venom started to pump in, Allie Way couldn’t have been prepared for the pure fire of agony that washed through her every vein.
Her scream echoed loud and hauntingly through the forest, but there were none but Lurkers and Blackwall to hear.
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“Nopony is touching anything until we have a better idea of what we’re dealing with.” said Windstriker bluntly as she flew up and turned about to face the gathered members of the Underwatch, face stiff and serious as a blade to the throat. “Wildspell, you take point. Coldiron, Trixie, prepare to back her up with an array if she needs it.”
Trixie glanced with questioning curiosity between the mysterious shining metal shard in the crater that sat before them, and the inscrutable Wildspell who started to trot forward with slow, cautious steps. “Um, Captain Windstriker, might I ask what exactly Wildspell is going to do with that shard that’d require an array?”
“It might not need an array, but Wildspell is our most experienced unicorn when it comes to strange and exotic types of magic.” Windstriker said, eyeing the shard. “I want to know what this thing is, because I’ll eat my own damned wings battered and fried if this shard isn’t somehow responsible for all the trouble in Victor’s Cliff.”
Coldiron nudged Trixie’s leg and said, “Move, Private. Let’s back up Wildspell.”
Trixie nodded, pushing back a nervous gulp. She didn’t much like that. That shard gave her a feeling not unlike having cold ice water slowly drip down the back of her neck. Still, if she could face a charge of bloodthirsty ursan warriors, she could deal with walking a little closer to an inert metal shard. Stepping down the small crater edge, Trixie joined Coldiron in following Wildspell, who didn’t go far before halting about five or six paces from where the shard jutted upward from the ground.
Wildspell’s face tensed in a deep frown as she looked the shard up and down. Coldiron exchanged a glance with Trixie before saying, “Are you feeling anything strange?”
“...I’m not sure.” said Wildspell, lips pressed tightly as she scrutinized the shard. “Do either of you feel a pull towards it? Like having a hoof on the back of your withers?”
‘No, not particularly-” Trixie began to say, taking a step forward, and stopped mid-sentence as her eyes locked onto the shard. Suddenly she felt as if the shining metal expanded to fill her vision, enticing in the strange ways its reflective surface bent her image. An urge to reach out and touch the shard filled her, and before she even knew it she’d taken several more steps forward.
“Trixie!” Coldiron grabbed her around the neck and hauled her backwards, startling Trixie out of her daze.
“H-huh!? What...what just-” Trixie shook her head, blinking rapidly as she rubbed at her head, “What happened?”
“Well Prince shit a brick, I’d say that confirms that thing ain’t exactly normal.” said Snakebite, and several other Underwatch ponies started to shift nervously. Windstriker, tail swishing in agitation, flew down next to Trixie.
“Did that thing just try to get into your head, Private?”
“Trixie doesn’t... I mean I don’t know.” admitted Trixie, slowly patting Coldiron’s hooves to indicate that the other mare didn’t have to keep holding her. “One moment I was looking at it, and the next I just felt the need to touch it. It felt so sudden and natural its like my mind didn’t even question what it was doing.”
Windstriker cast a quick glance at Wildspell. “Are you feeling the same thing?”
Wildspell nodded, “Yes. Run into mind affecting magic before, sort of expected here, so shielded my mind.”
“And you let me get closer to it!?” Trixie blurted, and Wildspell shrugged.
“Wanted to see how it’d affect an unshielded mind, and you were dumb enough to trot forward. Now we know.”
A sharp sigh escaped Windstriker, “While I appreciate the inquisitive thinking, say something before you let a teammate be a guinea pig next time, Corporal. Now when you say ‘shield your mind’ are you talking magic?”
Wildspell shook her head, “Nope. Just a mental technique. Anypony could do it. Just focus, think of something solid, like a wall, or a favorite memory, maybe about a lover. Takes up enough of your thoughts that mind altering magic slips off easier. Not entire. I still feel it, but I’m not blindsided into doing what it wants.”
“So this thing is just projecting a field around itself, about five paces out, that makes ponies want to touch it?” asked Coldiron. “Can we assume that’s what happened to that filly?”
“Wouldn’t doubt it. Now... here’s the risky part, Captain.” Wildspell said, turning a serious look towards Windstriker. “I can try a few different detecting spells, but touching it with my magic might make my mind vulnerable. I’ll do it with your permission, but with the understanding that I might be compromised the moment my magic hits this thing.”
“That’s why I want Coldiron and Trixie backing you up with an array.” said Windstriker, “I figure three minds are stronger than one.”
Wildspell tilted her head to the side, looking thoughtful, one ear twitching. “Might be. Or it might get all three of us. Your call, Captain. You might have to restrain us, or put all three of us down, if that thing takes us over.”
“Can Trixie volunteer for a different job now?” Trixie asked, only to hold up a hoof as Coldiron gave her a hard look. “A joke. We’ll take the risk together.”
“That’s my call.” said Windstriker, but she nodded, “But we sure as shit can’t just leave this thing here without trying to figure out what it is, and that means somepony’s going to need to scan it with magic. I’m not letting anypony touch the damned thing, that’s for sure. Wildspell, do it. Trixie, Coldirion, back her up. Snakebite, since you’re in full snark mode you can get down here to help restrain them if need be. Halberd, Rednail, you two get down here too.”
Trixie watched as Snakebite rolled his eyes and approached, along with two of the larger, burlier earth pony stallions in the unit. Halberd wasn’t as large as Blackwall, but he was wider but a fair margin, possessing a steel gray coat with a pale green mane and beard which were both judiciously braided. He carried his namesake weapon mounted to his side like a lance and wore heavy plate armor. His companion, Nail, was a bit shorter and much skinnier, reminding Trixie somewhat of the baker’s husband from Ponyville, with a similarly prominent chin. Nail’s coat was stark white, with his mane a more rusty brown color. His weapon of choice was one of those back mounted crossbow harness, primed and loaded, and he wore lighter chain-mail armor rather than plate.
“So, our only job is to hold down some lovely mares if they get out of hoof?” asked Nail, waggling his eyebrows, only to have the back of his head get smacked by Halberd. “What, I’m just confirming our orders with the Captain.”
“You’re being an irritating letch and I got enough of that from my former superior in Special Operations.” said Halberd, voice blunt as a rock as he snorted. “Be nice to be in a unit where ponies focus on the job, for a change.”
“I’m all about the job. Can’t you see the burning focus in my eyes?” Nail said as he pointed at himself, expression utterly deadpan, albeit not looking at Halberd but at something else.
Wildspell glanced at him. “You’re starring at my ass.”
“Its a beautiful ass.”
Windstiker gave a sharp whistle that hurt the eardrums, making Trixie wince.
“Enough chatter. Wildspell, do what you need to. We’ll back you up as best we can.”
She nodded, and turned to Trixie and Coldiron. “Link with me, then let me do the rest. Break the connection the second you think you’re being influenced. Not worth it to lose all three of us if this goes poorly.”
“Be careful.” Blossomforth called from the edge of the crater, shifting about on her hooves nervously, eyes shining with worry. Wildspell glanced at the pegasus, and gave the barest of nods before lighting up her horn with pale yellow magic, which reached out towards Trixie and Coldiron’s horns. Trixie and Coldiron in turn began to channel magic, connecting threads of their mana to Wildspell’s. Creating a spell array was still a fairly new thing for Trixie, but she’d gained enough practice at it that the process felt almost natural. Syncing up one’s magic with two other unicorns was something like the mental equivalent of tightrope walking while attempting knit a sock and singing a song all at the same time. Not only did Trixie have to carefully control the flow of her own magic, but she had to carefully regulate the connection to Coldiron and Wildspell, making sure she gave enough magic to keep the array formed while not pulling back too hard to disrupt Wildspell’s control of the array.
The Legion primarily used spell arrays to allow teams of battlemage unicorns to generate powerful attack spells, but an array could be used to strengthen any kind of magic. In this case Trixie imagined Wildspell was using the extra power to not just attempt to scan the shard, but also ward her mind with more than just mental techniques. The extra magic might help resist the control of whatever force resided inside the shard. Trixie couldn’t deny her nerves felt rubbed raw as Wildspell started to channel their combined magic towards the shard.
Facing ursans was one thing. That was a direct and easy to understand threat. Being ripped apart was a horrific fate, but at least it was a quick and comprehensible one. Trixie’s mind thought back to the terrible way in which that poor filly, Autumn Leaf, had her mind taken from her and her body forcibly mutated into something strange and horrifying... and Trixie could feel acidic fear bubbling up in her.
“Focus, Trixie.” said Coldiron, face tight with concentration. Trixie nodded, forcing herself to breath slowly and push down the fear.
Then Wildspell’s magic made contact with the shard, tentatively allowing only a small stream of the yellow aura to touch at first, then slowly spread out to surround the shard. Wildspell made a small gasping sound, and Trixie felt a shuddering tremor through the stream of their shared magic, but Trixie didn’t feel any kind of pressure or influence on her mind yet.
Windstriker, hovering nearby and watching them all with unblinking focus, said, “Wildspell, are you still with us?”
“Y-yes, Captain.” Wildspell said, voice heavy with strain. “Its trying very hard to get inside me. I don’t think it’s meant to do this without physical contact. The field its projecting its... its weak, like an echoing voice. The real voice is inside. This shard, its not metal. I don’t know what it’s made from. I think it might be alive. Organic. And every single centimeter of the damn thing is filled with magic. Hard to say how much. Stronger than what you'd get out of a dozen arrays, at least.”
Sweat was running down Wildspell’s face in small streams, her features tense in a trembling mask of concentration. The river of yellow magic pulsing from her horn to flow around the shard fluctuated like a wounded animal, suddenly causing Wildspell to suck in a pained breath and then make a gagging noise. Trixie felt the tremor of foreign magic back-lashing along the array link, and for a moment she thought she heard a terrible, alien echo in her mind. It was like the desperate scratching of a hundred small claws along a pane of glass, chorusing together to form a single voice.
Let me out. Unite the shards.
Abruptly Wildspell cut the connection, the array collapsing and cutting Trixie and Coldiron off. Trixie, shocked by the sudden severing of the array, collapsed to her haunches, blinking. “W-what just happened?”
Coldiron, trembling but keeping her hooves under her, rubbed her forehead and looked to Wildspell, “Corporal, you cut the connection, why-”
Before Coldiron was done asking, Wildspell shuddered and swayed on her hooves. Her magic was still connected to the shard, and the stream of magic started to transmute from a strong yellow glow to a misty and erratic silver sheen. As the unicorn stood there her voice started to babble, words tripping over each other.
“Uniteshardsreleasethemothershardsbringtogether-”
“Rednail! Halberd! Now!” Windstriker shouted, diving in herself while the two larger stallions nodded grimly and jumped Wildspell. Halberd got on Wildspell’s left while Rednail got on her right, and both locked her up in tight limb holds that bore her to the ground, while Windstriker went right for Wildspell’s horn and without hesitation whipped out a small ring of iron from a side pouch and slapped it across Wildspell’s horn. The iron ring started to glow a bright, searing orange, but the stream of magic between the unicorn and the shard cut off in an eyeblink.
Wildspell sagged, her eyes wide and unfocused, but the babble streaming from her mouth slowing to a whispered trickle.
Snakebite rushed down, Heimlich right behind him. Heimlich lit up his horn and cast it over Wildspell. As he did so Windstriker glanced at him, face an iron mask.
“Did it get inside her?” Windstriker’s voice had a flat, guarded edge to it.
Heimlich’s eyes closed in concentration as his magic roved over Wildspell in a sparkling wave. He’s breaths were calm and even as he took near a full minute to scan the other unicorn. Trixie just watched in nervous fascination, slowly realizing that Wildspell must have sensed the shard getting through her defenses, and had cut off the array just in time to protect her and Coldiron.
With a grave sigh, Heimlich said, “Da. I feel same magic in her as vith Autumn Leaf. It is small spark, not nearly as strong as vith the filly, but is there.”
“Shit on toast.” breathed Nail, shaking his head, “You mean she’s going to go all freaky like that kid did?”
“If that’s the case it’d be a mercy to kill her now.” said Halberd with a dire look at the mare he was helping hold down, not that she was resisting at the moment.
“That might be for the best.” muttered Windstriker, her face hard as rock. “Heimlich, how much time do you think she has?”
“Is hard to say. The filly survived some veeks, and it is logical to think she vas more exposed than Vildspell has been. I vould think there is time. Time to study her, time to concoct a means to contain or remove the foreign magic.” Heimlich said, though his voice carried clear hints of doubt.
While Windstriker looked contemplative, Trixie forced herself back to her hooves and said, “She just saved Coldiron and myself from whatever horrible magic is in that cursed shard! Killing her now, without even trying to help her? What’s there to even think about?”
Windstriker’s eyes cut towards Trixie sharply. “Whatever I decide is not to be argued with, Private Lulamoon. That said, there are risks to weigh.”
“That’s understandable Captain.” said Coldiron, “You order, we follow. But I’ll point out that we needed Autumn Leaf to study to figure out what we’re dealing with, but with her dead we were out of leads. Wildspell may have just inadvertently given us a second chance to study what the hell this thing is and what its doing to ponies it comes into contact with. Plus, if we find a way to remove its influence, Wildspell might still have intel on the shard itself she wasn’t able to relay before it got into her mind.”
“P-plus,” stammered Blossomforth, “If we can save her, can’t we use that in case there’s more of these creepy things doing this to other ponies?”
“Not to be the bad guy here, but I think it needs to be said; if we keep her alive there’s a chance she can do a lot more damage than the little filly did.” said Snakebite, looking as though he was sucking on something sour as he did so. “I don’t like it, but it might be too risky to bring her into town. She goes full mutant psycho on us, well, Wildpsell’s packing a lot more magical heat in her horn than any other unicorn on the team. Half of Victor’s Cliff might burn if she runs amok. If that happens it’ll be on our heads for having not given her a quick, clean death right here and now.”
“How can you say that!?” Blossomforth shouted, but before she got any further, Coco put a hoof on her shoulder and shook her head, causing Blossomforth to deflate as she met the other mare’s steady gaze. “But Coco... we can’t just kill her.”
“Its the Captain’s decision.” said Coco with a ashen voice, not looking happy about it but with a grim acceptance marring her face.
Snakebite sighed and shrugged, “Didn’t say I was in favor of offing one of our own, but wanted to make sure you Heartlander folk understood the risks. Wildspell knew those risks, and has done her duty. If she dies here, its as a Legionnaire, plain and simple.” He coughed, “That said, I’m all for taking the risk to keep her around and figure out what the actual fuck that shard did to her and maybe stop the damn thing.”
Windstriker was silent for a long while, eyes unwavering as she stared at Wildspell, who remained largely placid and unresponsive to everything around her. Wildspell’s eyes just kept staring into nothing, her mouth making small unintelligible whispers. Even so, neither Halberd or Rednail risked loosening their grip on the mare.
Finally Windstriker let out a barely audible sigh and said, “Get rope and bind her thoroughly. I want her guarded carefully. Halberd, Nail, you two get first shift on that. Once we get her back to Victor’s Cliff I want you in full research mode, Heimlich. Learn everything you can but don’t take any unnecessary chances. If Wildspell shows any sign of going the way of Autumn Leaf, you put a blade through her immediately, understood?”
Heimlich bobbed his head in an enthusiastic nod, “Da, Captain, I shall be cautious.”
While Halberd and Rednail went about trussing up Wildspell in coils of rope offered by several other Underwatch legionnaires, Trixie took a moment to collect herself and eye the shard. The spike of luminous, reflective material stood in cold, ominous silence, its surface reflecting Trixie’s image with a sickening twist and burring of her edges. Yet just looking at it seemed to draw back the memory of the voice within the shard, making Trixie feel like her brain was being scratched by a thousand tiny teeth.
She shivered, “We should just destroy that thing.”
Windstriker glanced at her, wings twitching. “If I thought we could, I’d be ordering it right now.”
“We could try throwing rocks at it.” suggested one of the other legionaries, who was promptly slapped upside the head by one of his fellows who said. “There’s no rocks around here big enough for that.”
“What about logs? We could cut one of these trees down and make a battering ram to smash it with.”
This was soon followed by a chorus of other suggestions on how to possibly destroy the shard, ranging from the almost plausible to the utterly mind boggling. Trixie didn’t even know how or where they’d find a vat of oil that large out here, at least not in a timely manner.
Windstriker made a swift gesture with a wing, cutting off the chatter. “This shard is too dangerous to be left as is, but we’re not equipped to handle destroying it, nor am I in a position to make that call. What we’ve found here, folks, is something that needs to be brought to the attention of the top brass. Then more specialized spellcasters can be sent in to deal with this thing, once their fully appraised of the danger. With luck Heimlich might find a way to help Wildspell before then. Right now I want everypony formed up and ready to get our flanks back to Victor’s Cliff.”
“Should we leave a squad to guard this thing?” asked Snakebite.
Windstriker’s expression darkened, “No way I’m splitting our forces more than they already are. Besides, I woulnd’t leave anypony alone near that shard. We know enough to know its dangerous, and that its connected to the Lurkers. That’s enough for now. Alright ponies, form up and move it, double time!”
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Leyshi didn’t understand. The pain had to be horrific, beyond words, but the unicorn pony was enduring. How, Leyshi did not know. It hurt to watch. Perhaps Broodmother Chirziane was right, perhaps Leyshi was too fond of the ponies. Watching the way this mare writhed within the binds of the webbing pinning her body to the tree, hearing the desperate whimpers and cries that kept pouring from her mouth, it stung at something in Leyshi that made her want to crawl into a dark recess in shame.
The hunter that had been administering the pain inducing toxin stood poised to inject more, but Leyshi held up a fore claw and exuded commanding pheromones. “Stop. That is enough. More, too much more, may kill her.”
Legs bristling the hunter obeyed and backed off, though he said, “If this one will not cooperate then it should die, honored brood-caste. We have another from which to get the information we desire.”
Leyshi cast a look at their other captive. The huge, dark pony had been utterly silent during the time they had been torturing the unicorn. Silent, but her eyes stared with distinct fierce intensity at them and it made Leyshi feel a uneasy chill. This dark pony had been distinctly strong for her race, slaying many before being captured. The look it gave Leyshi now made her fearful and want to be anywhere else. Yet she had her duty to her Broodmother. Leyshi could not afford to falter.
“Yes,” she said, “We do have another...” Leyshi’s mind turned with a web of thoughts, following spindly threads of logic. She arguably knew more about ponies than any other Aranea alive, due to her work alongside Broodmother Chirziane, and unlike the Broodmother she had gone out of her way to talk to the pony captives in the laboratory. She’d been learning of their culture piece by piece.
Her eight orb-like eyes turned towards the unicorn. Aranea often existed within strict boundaries of their caste-system, with only a few rogues acting as exceptions to that rule. By and large Aranea were defined not by their bonds with each other, but by their bond to their caste. Ponies, from what she’d learned, were not the same. They valued individual bonds.
It was a curious thing to Leyshi. Others may have called it aberrant, but she just thought of it as interesting.
And a possible weakness to exploit.
“We will not kill her. No, I think I know how to get her to talk now. The large one. Use your toxins upon her now, but ensure the other can see, and hear.” Leyshi said, gesturing at the dark pony while scuttling up to the unicorn.
As the hunter moved to obey his orders there was excited chittering from among the other hunter-caste and spinner-caste who remained largely hidden and watching from the surrounding forest. The torture had been boring for them, Leyshi knew, but they seemed excited to see what Leyshi was planning. It was actually pretty simple, and she crawled up to get face to face with the unicorn pony, switching over to speak in the pony language.
“Pony, listen pony, I don’t want to keep hurting you. I just want information. Please talk to me?”
The unicorn’s face was streked with grimy sweat and tears, her eyes bloodshot and near delirious. Her flesh had a strained, reddened look from the poison coursing through her. Leyshi knew that a hunter’s toxin was a great feat of many generations of breeding over the Aranea’s eons of history. A hunter could change how his toxin functioned, altering the lethal level of it, or increasing the pain it inflicted. The poison inside the unicorn was largely non-lethal, as long as there wasn’t too much of it, but the pain... oh the pain it must have been putting her through. It was a miracle she was still conscious.
To help the pony’s mind regain focus as much as to indulge her feelings of sympathy, Leyshi raised her abdomen and spun out web, a pair of her hind legs moving with swift and smooth motions to shape the web into a magical set of runes. She still had plenty of magic stored inside her to fill the runes with power and direct the spell towards the unicorn. The runes glowed with green, wispy light, which then washed over the pony. Quickly the pony’s eyes blinked and she gasped, some of the redness fading from her face.
“Wh-what...?”
“I have cast a spell to reduce the poison in your blood.” Leyshi said, “I want you to talk to me pony, please? Your name, then more.”
“I...won’t.” The mare’s voice was scratchy and hoarse from all the agonized screaming she’d been doing. It was weak and unsteady as she shook her head. “J-just...stop. Kill me, but...can’t talk.”
There was fear brimming in every word as the mare quivered. She was absolutely terrified. It just made the sting inside Leyshi all the sharper. She traced a comforting claw over the pony’s cheek, though the pony jerked from the touch as if it’d been scalding. Leyshi pulled her claw back, hesitant, but still steadfast in her duty to her Broodmother.
“I won’t kill you or your castemate. That would be a waste. Unless you speak to me, and answer my questions, I can keep telling my hunter-caste to hurt you. Or your... friend? That is the right term, yes, friend?”
The eyes of the unicorn widened in a look Leyshi recognized as horror, and as much as it filled her with a nagging sense of guilty she pressed onward. “Yes, you now know the pain of hunter venom. Such a terrible thing. Even I can not really imagine how it feels. Do you want your friend to feel that?”
“Please, no, just let us go if you’re not going to kill us! Or if you are going to, then stop... stop playing around and do it. My life isn’t worth much anyway...” the unicorn mare pleaded. Leyshi gestured to her hunter, and the larger Aranea moved his fangs closer to the dark pony’s exposed neck. The larger pony mare just continued to stare, still as a statue as the fangs got closer to her skin.
“Stop it, she won’t say anything either! She’s so much stronger than me, you’re just wasting your time.” The cries of the unicorn mare went unheeded as Leyshi watched the hunter-caste carefully administer his poison.
Even as hard and stoic as the black furred mare was, the hunter’s toxin was clearly something even she wasn’t fully prepared for. Though she didn’t scream the way the unicorn did, the dark mare’s eyes went wide and bloodshot within seconds and seemingly against her rock hard will the mare started to thrash against the bonds of the webbing encasing her.
The unicorn mare kept pleading for them to stop, but Leyshi knew she had to give this a little time. Several minutes passed with the only sound being the unicorn’s babbling pleas and the dark mare’s nearly silent struggles. The hunter, at Leyshi’s direction, gradually increased the dosage of toxin with small bites over the thrashing mare’s neck and shoulders. Bit by bit the poison would build, its intense burn of agony rising with each bite. While the black mare lasted much longer than the unicorn had, even she started to make more noise. Her mouth was still webbed up, so the screams were muffled, and even then Leyshi got the impression that even without the web those screams would only be tearing their way out past determinedly clenched teeth... but still the mare screamed.
There was no shame in that. Leyshi couldn’t imagine any living being capable of enduring pain like that without giving in to the instinct to respond accordingly. Even having never experienced it herself, she understood the chemistry behind the toxin, the way it attacked the nerves to fill them with a pain that would feel like burning from the inside out.
The dark mare’s wild thrashing started to show signs of not only ripping parts of the web holding her, but even cracking the tree she was webbed do. With a sharp, trilling whistle and a blast of commanding pheromones, Leyshi ordered her spinner-caste forward. In mere moments half a dozen spinner-caste were all coating the mare anew with a fresh layer of web, then they added anchoring webs to support the tree itself to keep it from breaking in half. The tree was easily as thick around as Leyshi herself was.
One of her other hunter-caste let out a fearful pheromone. “Monstrous creature. We should just kill it while it is still helpless.”
There was a certain logic to that. As much as she admire ponies and wished to not be enemies with them, that did not change what matters were, and this warrior had proven entirely too deadly. Perhaps killing her was the most sensible course of action. However Leyshi just had to take one look at the unicorn mare to tell her plan was working. The unicorn was in tears, her eyes looking in despair at her tortured comrade.
“It can stop at any time.” Leyshi said in the pony language. “Answer my questions and her pain ends.”
The other mare was too delirious from the pain at that moment to even notice what was happening. She kept struggling against her bonds, voice too tired to even keep screaming. The unicorn looked upon the dark mare with utter anguish, indecision wracking her sullen features. Leyshi pressed in harder with her words coming out swift and sharp as if they were her own fangs.
“Answer what I wish and you both will be free. The pain doesn’t have to continue. Haven’t you both endured enough?”
“Y-you won’t let us go...” the unicorn said with a sagging look.
“I shall. I have no interest in dead ponies. Even if your friend is dangerous, I don’t care, because we shall be gone before she can retaliate. Tell me what I want, and you will both be set free.”
Leyshi watched as the unicorn stared at her with a look that was like the cracked edges of a worn out and broken piece of slate. Then her eyes went to her friend, and there was desperate resignation in the unicorn’s look. With a gulp, she said, “W-what do you want to know?”
Finally. Leyshi let out pleased pheromones, even if she knew the pony couldn’t scent them properly. “First, please, your names. I want to know what you call yourselves, you and your friend both.”
“Allie Way...” the unicorn said, then nodded towards the dark mare. “She’s Blackwall.”
Leyshi bobbed up and down on her legs in a small, pleased dance. Then she gave the command for the hunter to stop poisoning the mare, Blackwall. The hunter obeyed, albeit with a hiss of reluctance, and skittered back to join his peers amid the bushes. Leyshi, feeling much better now that the unpleasantness was done with, turned her full attention to Allie Way.
“Good, good! Names are always important. Now, Allie Way, I’m very curious. Why are warrior ponies like you and Blackwall here with so many others like you?”
----------
Blackwall had never truly lost conciseness during the torture, only her sense of time and the world around her. It had all been replaced by overwhelming, searing pain that melted its way through her veins like flows of magma. Blackwall was no stranger to pain. Indeed during her thirty years of life, more than half of that spent in Legion uniform, she’d endured every kind of pain that could be felt under the sun of the Prince’s holy sister.
She’d torn muscles, broken bones, bled from countless punctures inflicted by wolven claws, been frostbitten by extreme cold, burned by flames both from training accidents and friendly fire from battlemages, and even once had a wolven bolter spur punch right through one of her legs. It still had a barely perceptible limp to this day, though Blackwall made sure it hadn’t slowed her down at all. Without her armor on her body was clearly marred by the many scars of her enduring life of warfare in the name of Prince Terrato and the Legion.
Yet despite all that, she’d never felt anything like the Lurker’s venom. No pain in her previous experience matched it. She had held onto her pride for as long as she could, but Blackwall couldn’t even guess when her willpower had given way to sheer, thick headed stubbornness, and then when even that had bent to simple overriding instinct. Hot shame burned through her, but it was rapidly replaced with confusion.
Why wasn’t she still being tortured? Her senses were blurry, with clouded vision and muffled hearing. The daze was quickly wearing off, however, and she felt something tugging at the web holding her. With a few bleary eyeblinks she saw a indistinct shape of white and neon blue in front of her. She heard heavy breathing and wracking sobs.
Allie Way.
She must have tried to speak the name, for the blurry blob in front of her let out a squeak and jumped back.
“Blackwall! H-hold on, I’m getting you down from there. I just need to get a good grip with my magic.”
Blackwall felt the tugging again, now followed by the tell tale chime of magic. Slowly the fog filling the ravines of Blackwall’s mind started to clear and she could think. Allie Way was free. How? There was no possible way she could have fought off their captors. As her vision also cleared up Blackwall could see she and Allie Way were still in the same small clearing where the Lurkers had been torturing them both for information. Blackwall’s memory was fuzzy, but she recalled that the Lurker who’d seemed to be in charge had turned its minion upon her in order to...
Blackwall’s eyes widened for a moment, then narrowed to a knife's edge.
Allie Way, who was making good progress in tearing the webs from Blackwall’s body, caught the look and met Blackwall’s eyes. For a moment. Then Allie Way, with an expression of utterly desolate shame, looked away, her ears flat to her skull and her head hung low. Tears struck the forest floor as Allie Way whispered, “I didn’t have a... I mean, I couldn’t... they were hurting you.”
Blackwall closed her eyes, taking in a long, slow breath through her nose and letting it out like a hiss of steam. She then rolled her shoulders and used the loosening of the webs that Allie Way had already accomplished to tear her right foreleg free in a burst of web. She didn’t even care about the way the sticky stuff tore at her fur as she ripped herself free, limb by limb, then tore the web off her mouth and spat out the rest. All the while Allie Way stood back, head hung like a whipped dog, looking utterly miserable.
Rage threatened to push up out of Blackwall like the eruption of a too long dormant volcano. She didn’t even have to ask what Allie Way had done. It was written all over the unicorn’s face. The only surprise was that either of them still lived after the Lurkers had gotten what they wanted. Why hadn’t the Lurkers just killed them, if Allie Way had talked? It didn’t make sense.
Still trying to control her anger, Blackwall still had to confirm things with her own ears. “How much did you tell them?”
Her voice fell like hammers on an anvil, and Allie Way flinched with each blow. The younger mare’s voice was barely an anguished murmur. “Everything. I tried to... to think of a lie, but she kept asking questions, kept threatening to keep hurting you, I just... couldn’t keep it up. They know about the Underwatch, why we’re here, and that the others went to the north forest looking for something.”
Allie Way’s voice was gray with an utterly defeated quality Blackwall had heard among some raw recruits who couldn’t handle their first battle. In a strange way it almost made sense to her. When the torture had begun, and Allie Way had endured the Lurker’s venom, Blackwall had felt a sort of pride for the mare. Allie Way had not talked, as long as the pain had been hers alone to bear.
The idea that Blackwall had become the weakness that had gotten Allie Way to talk was horrifying as it was enraging. Her body seethed with violent need to unleash that rage upon something, and in a dark corner of her mind she imagined cracking Allie Way’s skull open.
After all, had Allie Way been a proper Legion mare there’d be no question of her punishment for giving intel to the enemy. Even under torture, a Legion pony was meant to die before betraying the Legion. To do otherwise was to be worthy of the highest punishment. Under normal circumstances Allie Way would be facing a very brief trial followed by a even briefer encounter with a noose.
But these weren’t normal circumstances, and Blackwall struggled to get her emotions and thoughts in check. Allie Way was one of the Chosen. A Heartlander. Prince Terrato may have decreed their draft, but at the same time the laws of the Legion did not wholly apply to the Chosen of Celestia and Luna. Allie Way would likely still face retribution of some sort, but hanging was... a less likely possibility.
And if it was, would Blackwall want that? Her seething rage was more directed at herself than the unicorn who stood so miserable and pained nearby. None of this would have happened had Blackwall not been distracted while on patrol. And even she had to admit the venom of the Lurkers was a powerful tool of torture. Allie Way had clearly been delirious and out of her mind from the pain. Few Legion ponies could have withstood it for as long as she had.
Yet it still tore at Blackwall. This felt like a slap to the face. Further proof positive that the Heartlanders should never have been placed in the Legion in the first place. They didn’t belong in war. Had Blackwall been alone, or with another true Legion pony, they would have both died before giving the Lurkers any information.
But the soft, compassionate heart of a Chosen couldn’t stand to see her... friend in pain.
Madness. Simple madness. Such feelings belonged in the Heartland. Not because they were wrong, but because they weren’t suited for war. Ponies like Allie Way and her fellow Chosen were sacred, in their way. Born to be protected. Protected by hard ponies like Blackwall who’s life had meaning because she had a duty to protect the Heartland.
Looking at Allie Way now, Blackwall felt the crushing weight of what she’d lost. Her sacred duty was tainted by the simple fact that she couldn’t protect ponies like Allie Way from the horrors of war if those very same ponies were stuck there fighting beside her.
What good was Blackwall if she couldn’t serve to protect one Chosen?
All this rushed through her mind in the span of a half minute as she stood there, breathing heavily. Allie Way remained silent, her body covered in sweat and grime, so pale she looked like a standing corpse. Blackwall turned to face her, face forced into a mountainous mask.
“There’s no time. If the Lurkers know everything, then they will go after the rest of the Underwatch. We must go swiftly to Victor’s Cliff and rouse the militia and the rest of our squad.’
Allie Way was silent, so Blackwall approached her and gave the mare a stiff push in the chest. “Private Allie Way! At attention!”
Allie Way gave a started shake of her head, her tear streaked eyes blinking. “I, uh, y-yes ma’am!” The unicorn drew herself up into something resembling an attentive stance. Her face was fearful, but she was clearly regaining some control. Blackwall nodded approval.
“Your mistake will be dealt with later. Right now we must return to Victor’s Cliff. Understood, legionnaire?”
Despite the exhaustion wracking her and the fear still filling her, Allie Way gave a salute, her voice not exactly strong, but not a pit of hopelessness either. “Yes ma’am!”
“Good. Then get marching, at the gallop!”
Blackwall was exhausted herself from the whole ordeal, but she picked a direction that she suspected would lead out of the forest, and broke out into a controlled gallop. Her legs screamed protest, her body feeling weak and nauseous, but Blackwall endured.
With a glance to her side, she saw Allie Way galloping next to her, no less enduring.