Antecedence Arc
Ama was incapable of producing a distinct mindscape and Cassia found it to be no detriment. She was still able to establish a plane on which to walk.
As far as the mindscape went there was no reason for such a thing to be constructed.
She’d suspected, upon meeting Ama, that the Mazan possessed something she’d only seen a hoofful of times in her entire life.
Ama’s heart was pure as crystal.
Cassia knew Ama was at least admirable—just hearing about her—and further convinced of it upon meeting her. And she was almost sure of it after sharing with her the horrors Salvatrix had endured in the last months; she’d seen quite a bit of Ama in that exchange.
Ama’s mind was transparent. Even the things—silly, embarrassing, or awkward—she might have wished to hide were all plain to see. Not flawless or innocent—she enjoyed a filthy joke as much as any mare (and how wrong is that anyway?!)—she was basically unpolluted by the world around her.
Yes… the tall maiden—a mighty warrior that was the de facto champion of her entire race—had no meanness in her… no base hatred… no wickedness… She’d grown up with—or into—every “opportunity” and “excuse” to turn rotten or idle and had done neither.
The only “flaw” Cassia saw was that Ama couldn’t take it… some of what she’d been through.
She’d killed bandits, assassins, and wouldn’t hesitate to do anything to protect her friends. She’d even managed to put a lot of their troubles behind them. She’d brought Zyra back from the brink… kept faith during their troubles in “Last Chance” City… she really didn’t even detest Hagano, the pirate who’d left them to die in the desert.
And she’d kept Essenta from floundering, keeping her eye on the big picture when the princess needed to be woken up. It took a lot of grit to thoughtfully recognize—in the face of all they’d done and seen and all the fun and love they’d shared—that Dechaa and Delia’s lives were possibly forfeit… that six of the girls would have to run for their lives, never knowing what had happened to their friends.
But in all that Cassia saw—with the very possible exception of losing her temper and upsetting Master Pallo’s card-game her first and only time drunk—Ama had never done a truly shameful thing in her life.
She’d been a rock among ponies… a rock with the healthy sentiments of a healthy mare.
The most recent events were different, though. Ama was brokenhearted over all that had happened the last few days. All she’d done was pull the wagon out of Nuinhof, following Loress’s path and Delia’s instructions. A lot of ponies had died, and their “crimes” were no more than being afraid and desperate.
The “flaw” was no flaw at all. Ama knew the weight of life and treasured it… in all creatures.
Cassia didn’t even need to search for Ama; the Mazan was curled up amid all going on, weeping quietly, her body heaving in her sadness. Approaching her, Cassia noted Ama to be a lot smaller.
This wasn’t very surprising either, Ama taking the form of herself as a child. It wasn’t always clear why many ponies appeared as such but there was no questioning Ama’s goodness.
For the first time since entering Cassia looked upon herself. She was old… and she realized she hurt. Her heart, mind, and body all hurt. She wasn’t able to understand why… and she didn’t bother.
Cassia paddled up to Ama, feeling her entire age as well as the last day’s misery.
“Ama…” Cassia gently hoofed Ama’s shoulder.
Ama didn’t start or become alarmed; she merely turned her reddened, wet eyes up to Cassia, “Cassia…?”
Cassia only nodded.
“Γιατί είσαι εδώ?” Ama asked.
Why am I here…? Cassia wondered; she was less and less sure of why.
The old one looked down on the young one, betraying nothing.
And Ama returned her gaze downward to the surface of the plane. Her crying lessened but she went on shaking.
Cassia could’ve asked the little one why she was crying but that seemed a foolish—even cliché—thing; she sat down, “Ama…”
Little Ama recoiled when Cassia stroked her mane. It wasn’t that she was afraid but overwhelmed.
It had been years since Cassia had seen her own grandfoals. She was grandmother to many in Nuinhof but it wasn’t the same. Sitting with Ama, though, she felt the warm and familiar grandmotherly bloom inside. Maybe it was foolish, but it was there.
“Ama…”
The small one curled up tighter; she squeaked, “I am sorry… I am so sorry… I am sorry…”
“Shh… Shh…” Cassia soothed. “I know… I know…”
Ama sniffled, “I… did not want this to happen, I… I did not think this would happen… I could not imagine it…!”
“Shh… Shh…” Cassia went on stroking Ama’s gray mane. “It’s alright, Ama…”
Ama’s eyes, piercing even as a child, peered up, “How…? How is any of this alright…?”
Cassia inhaled and sighed deeply, “Well… it’s not… None of this is alright… But it’s not your fault.”
Ama’s next words surprised even Cassia, despite the candidness surrounding her.
“I know,” Ama whispered.
Cassia felt her mind flutter, hearing that. A pure mind was rare indeed.
Cassia had to collect herself; she soon inquired, “Are you feeling guilty about that? That you think that way?”
Cassia immediately regretted the foolish question; she knew Ama was far beyond such irrationality.
Ama took no offense; she didn’t even look for further meaning in the question, “No… I am just… so very sad…”
Cassia’s heartstrings were tugged at Ama’s tears… She felt her own eyes well up at the grief.
“I feel as if… the world is falling apart!” Ama wailed. “I feel… that… this is the end!”
Cassia kneaded Ama’s back, “Sit up.”
“…What…?” Ama hadn’t really heard.
“Sit up, dear,” Cassia bent over as best she could. “Let me look at you.”
Using about all the “strength” she had—they were in a mindscape after all—she aided Ama to a sitting position. Even sitting on her rump, it was obvious Ama was just about the same height as Cassia. Cassia couldn’t deny that Ama was rather pretty, even for a Mazan, especially considering her Terran father; Mazans had the benefit of bedding any stallion that would have them, allowing for some impressive genetics in their daughters. She couldn’t even begin to guess her age, though, as Ama appeared.
Taking in the vision of the attractive—but plain—filly, so blameless, Cassia felt ill, doing all she was doing. But she wouldn’t turn back, she was still sure enough of her decided task.
Still, she would give Ama the benefit of a doubt, regarding the future.
“Ama… I wish I knew what to say to you… to comfort you; I’m at a loss.”
Ama sniffled, unashamed of her tears but overcome, shy to making eye-contact.
“Ama… Ama, look at me.”
The Mazan managed, her blazing eyes swimming.
Cassia would promise Ama nothing. It hurt, bodily, that a mare like Ama had to be involved in all this. She cared, and yet… she didn’t. She’d be dead soon and it wouldn’t matter to her after that. But she believed in Ama enough to say a few things.
“I’ve seen your heart, Ama… and it’s a good one. You’ve—in your whole life—really done nothing to be ashamed of.”
Ama, whether she bought this or not, was listening, eyes falling, “…”
Cassia put a hoof under Ama’s chin, lifting her gaze, “You’re sad… dismayed by all this. But I know you want nothing more than to love and protect your friends… especially those needing it.”
Ama blinked hard, nodding.
“They’ll all need you, Ama… You need to be strong for them. And I know you will be.”
Cassia resolved to leave then. It hadn’t been in her to pick apart Ama’s mind in hopes of learning more. She couldn’t bear anymore to play in the mind of somepony who was so much better than she was…
Well, maybe they were all better than Cassia, but Ama was special.
Boooooooom…!
Cassia didn’t even startle at the explosions anymore. She’d walked through them, after all, intent on searching out the company.
Seeing that Wilka was still snoozing peacefully, Cassia barely hesitated.
She wouldn’t risk another second of waiting, with Zyra so close to waking.
Gleaning what she had from the other girls and knowing what she had pieced together Cassia had come to know Zyra’s mind wouldn’t be a pleasant place.
But she didn’t expect it to be in flames.
Cassia deduced the town to be Oswald, Zyra’s hometown, but it looked more like a vision of Hell.
Zyra’s mind wasn’t “scattered” as Dechaa’s was, but she was in the throes of a terrible nightmare… a condition she deduced was normal for Zyra, most nights.
Cassia couldn’t place where Zyra’s essence was, but she could pick up on traces of it. Those traces told her Zyra’s friends knew of this Hell, though she already knew that.
More strongly, the traces suggested Ama of all ponies was intimate with what surrounded Cassia. Cassia had seen a good deal of Ama’s life, but a brief encounter was a brief encounter. She’d noted something very unpleasant Ama had been through—something that took a very long time to conquer—and the whispers breezing past her ears called out for Ama.
Cassia realized that Ama was more familiar with this scene than anypony living besides Zyra. A guilty feeling bloomed inside her, wishing she’d done more than console Ama but knowing it would have been a terrible thing to put Ama through, as fragile as she was.
Ama was Zyra’s relief. It wasn’t infatuation but an ideal bond of trust towards the Mazan.
Cassia had to know more.
To her great discomfort, Cassia found herself unable to “fly” or “glide” around this very distinct mindscape. She was forced to walk; in her elderly body, with little physical or mental relief felt in this dreamworld, trotting and galloping were years behind her.
Cassia did manage to block out much of what she was seeing and hearing… the death and destruction and the screaming… It allowed her glimpses of Zyra’s life.
The youngest known initiate to a magic guild… such a talented filly… eager to learn and eager to please…
Her uncle betrayed her… betrayed his family and his city… to Aodh Radulf.
How horrible… Being in the part of the world she was she knew well enough who that was. And she realized he was very likely dead, though Zyra had passed on judging him herself. True grit...
Again, Cassia saw the night of the raid… and experienced the pain Zyra brought upon herself.
But there was great happiness to be seen too. Being taken in by Master Amelbert of Greendale… meeting the princess and Dechaa… growing up and becoming a mare alongside them… running away from Greendale at a moment’s notice… meeting Ama… and Loress and Wilka and Orni and even Delia.
The girls had been through a lot together.
And at the end of it all was Ama. She was the pony to brave Zyra’s memories. Six weeks Ama had worked alongside Master Noach, seeking out Zyra’s essence. She was the pony that assured Zyra she wasn’t a monster, with the terrifying Fire Diamond embedded next to her beating heart.
Six weeks… Six weeks… Even with the help of Noach—no slouch in head-magic—the two traveled six weeks to find Zyra. And Ama had continued for time untold on her own, in darkness, with only Zyra’s faint call for help guiding her.
Cassia knew of the pain in Noach’s heart—she knew him, after all—and she had pain in her own heart. But even with Noach having the shared pain of losing his family as Zyra had, he’d been unable to connect… to find her.
It took a friend… a true friend... to reach Zyra’s heart of hearts. And it still took Ama weeks when Zyra had locked herself off.
Zyra wasn’t locked off, but her heart wasn’t open… to Cassia at least. And she realized—then and there—she wouldn’t be able to reach Zyra.
The fact Zyra’s magic had ignited Cassia’s city seemed the least important thing about the little mage. Cassia couldn’t even bring herself to blame Zyra for the action.
Cassia almost collapsed coming out of Zyra’s mind; her legs buckled, and she wheezed, her broken ribs haunting her every move.
She fell to her rump to catch her wind. It was most unpleasant when even breathing hurt.
Gazing at the now peacefully sleeping Zyra, she could tell the mare was no longer suffering. At least the nightmare was over for Zyra… the one in her mind, that is.
Cassia’s mind was swimming… The mares had something special… and she was regretting her path more than ever.
It wasn’t Zyra’s fault. None of the girls were at fault.
But Cassia wasn’t ready to accept that.
Cassia set her sights to Wilka, finally. She still had the princess and Delia to deal with but Wilka had to be first.
A feeling… that something unbelievable… something sick waited for her crept up on Cassia. Orni had verbally warned her and a sensation of “varying comprehension” in the others told her something dreadful lay behind the gorgeous, petite Pegasus’s sleeping face.
But Cassia still felt nothing of great note from Wilka.
Nothing.
Knowing she didn’t have a lot of time, Cassia lulled Wilka into a deeper sleep and entered. Whatever was there she’d soon enough find out.