Briar coughed as he rounded the first left corner of the cave. The cave's hallways were smooth. Most of the rough edges appeared to have been eroded away over time. The lime glow of his horn reflected off of pools of bile that had gathered at the bottom of the walls. His hobbled movement was painful, and with each step he winced, keeping on his damaged hoof as little as possible, as if an iron thorn was wedged deep into it.
Briar's panic worsened when he noticed a distinct lack of bats despite the dark cave. Something was likely keeping them away, or scaring them off. Briar's breathing was shallow and hastened. He felt like had run for miles already. He forced himself to stop long enough to quiet the fire that was building up in his lungs, and swallow the mucus that had built up in his throat. He looked back to the tunnels behind him. Blackness. The tunnels in front of him seemed no better though, only more abyss.
The green maned stallion rounded another corner, trying to maintain whatever direction he had started from. He froze in his tracks paralyzed with fear. Hissing echoed down the tunnel in front of him. Ahead he could see nothing except more tunnel. Ducking into a nook in the cave wall, Briar hid, and quieted his light, bringing total blackness around him.
The hissing gradually grew louder, driving a near maddening fear straight into Briar's brain. His body begged him to run, to move, to scream. The grinding of scales against the stone walls wasn't far off now. The pools of bile washed away from the large creature coming down the hall towards his crack in the wall.
Lyra chuckled aloud. The trip had become pleasant, Briar's attitude had completely changed for the better. The trip had almost become pleasant now, and however far Zecora's house was it didn't matter. Briar had just finished an odd little joke, but it was to Lyra's liking.
The forest around them had started to thin out, and the trees were becoming taller. Fog gathered around them, and the temperature had risen. Lyra was starting to sweat. The humidity was rough. The ground beneath her hooves was starting to get soft and squishy.
“Say, Briar. How much further?” Lyra asked when a moment of silence held for too long.
“To where?” Briar turned to her and grinned. She shot a look of disapproval back.
“Briar, that's not funny. How much further to Zecora's?” She shook her head. She said it wasn't funny, but the small amount of humor was enough to bring an internal smile. She'd almost forgotten why they were going to Zecora's in the first place.
Briar walked up to what appeared to be a water's edge. He looked out into what was clearly a swampy bog. The fog seemed to settle here, to just above the water's surface. Lyra stared at the brown liquid, but couldn't make out her reflection. She watched as briar made a leap between the edge of the bog, and a small grassy nub that stuck out of the water a few feet inward.
“It's just on the other side of this bog. See that light over there?” he asked, motioning to a speck of light just visible through the trees on the other side of the marsh. “That's Zecora's.” He smiled.
Lyra furrowed her brow in doubt. She wasn't aware that Briar had ever been to Zecora's before. She wondered at how he knew the way so well without ever checking a map. She bent her knees near the bank, and jumped out to the grassy knoll that Briar stood on. There was barely enough room for the two of them on it, forcing them close. Briar rolled his eyes and jumped to the next knoll. This one was a bit further away.
Briar seemed to glide through the air as gracefully as a pegasus, his leap through the air bringing to a soft and well placed landing. The knoll was larger, and looked sturdier. Lyra was eager to get there. Her hooves shook slightly, and her body shuddered with a mixture of fear and excitement. She wound herself up and released. Lyra wasn't nearly so graceful in the air, and her front hooves barely touched the edge of the knoll, her back end slipping quickly into the swampy water. Her hooves quickly touched the bottom of the swamp, the mud gripping at them. She could feel herself sinking quickly. Panic set in as her front hooves desperately tried to grip at the promise of solid ground that the small island offered.
Briar quickly looked at her, his eyes filled with something strange. He blinked and it was gone. Lyra wanted to cry out to him for help, but by the time her mouth opened, he was already there, offering a hoof to her. She locked her joint around his, and their combined effort freed her from the gripping mud at the bottom of the swamp.
They sat together on the knoll for a moment, breathing hard. Still in them middle of catching her breath, Lyra started to laugh. “Haha, oh man I thought I was done for. And the look on your face,” she sighed happily, “glad to know that you care Briar. For a little while there, I was really worried. I thought for sure that I'd have been better off on my own.” Another moment of silence. Briar sat still on the marsh island. Lyra walked over to him, planted a light kiss on his cheek. “Thanks for that,” she said with a smile. A big grin worked its way across Briar's face. The pair stood up, and prepared to make the next jump.
“Say Lyra, have you ever heard of a Will-o-wisp?” Briar asked just after making the next jump. The jump was short, and much easier than the last.
“Yeah, I used to have nightmares about them as a filly. They live in swamps and near cliffs, and trick unsuspecting ponies into traps that bring them through slow agonizing deaths, feeding off of their fear and pain.” Lyra grunted as she made the jump just after Briar. “Think we'll see any?”
“Doubtful. Most ponies think they're nothing but a myth anyway. Used to keep fillies out of the forests. If they did exist though, this would be the place to find one right?” He turned to her and flashed another smile. The gloomy discussion was starting to bring a bad mood. The two made a few more jumps, almost to the center of the bog.
“So why'd you mention it?” Lyra asked, slightly out of breath from the repeated long distance leaps.
“Just something to fill the time I suppose,” he dismissed the question nonchalantly.
Briar took a deep breath and sealed his cold lips. He squeezed himself back into the crack as far as he could sucking in to get past an outcropping of jagged stone. The rock tore across his belly as he pulled himself upright to move further in. The scratches left across his stomach burned and stung. As the beast slithered past Briar's alcove he cried silently. The thought of being consumed terrified him.
He waited there for what could have easily been several minutes, or an hour. He kept his breathing shallow, but each passing moment drove him further into paranoia. Finally mustering the courage to move again, briar sucked in his gut back in, scraping past the outcropping again. Finally able to bring himself onto all fours again he sighed. His quivering was making it hard to take a solid breath.
Briar limped forward for several minutes. His eyes opened wide in excitement. Limping as fast as he could, Briar made his way towards a small light further down the cave's hall. He rounded a corner briskly turning to the mouth of the cave. The light felt like a blessing, a saving grace from the cave. Briar stepped out onto a grassy slope leading down into brown murky water.
He took a moment to survey his surroundings and rest, happy to be free of the darkness of the cave. Tall trees sprouted from small islands in the marshland he had exited the cave into. The swamp smelled foul. He crept up to the waters edge and gasped. Several skeletal forms lay rotting just inside the water. The skulls of other ponies gave him blank stares. Briar swallowed hard. He backed away from the shore shaking his head. The edge of the water here was a graveyard of forgotten and missing ponies.
He sat down on the soggy grass and looked out into the massive bog. He had no idea where he was, but he knew the smell now. Death.
“Just one more jump and we're at the center, come on,” Briar announced. He wound up his legs and crouched low to the ground before breaking into a full sprint for just a moment before making the long leap to the larger island near the center of the swamp. As he came down his hooves barely touching the ground as he galloped to a stop. “You can do it, come on.” Another flashed grin.
Lyra shook her head slowly. She backed away from the edge of her own knoll of grass. “I, I don't think I can Briar. I don't even know how you did that. That's a long ways to jump.”
From across the way Briar looked toward her directly. “Relax. I'll be here, if you miss I'll help you get to shore. Besides I'm sure you can do it.”
Lyra looked at him warily. She reexamined the distance. He heart pounded in her throat as she backed to the other edge of her soggy island. She bent her legs down and took off, trying to imitate Briar's jump. Her hind hooves left the edge of the grass, and the last feeling of security until she would land. Her heart pounded hard in her chest. She could tell she was going to make it. She stretched out her front hooves to reach the island. Shock and horror filled her as her face twisted into unpleasantness as she realized that she was going to fall just short.
Her front hooves broke the murky water's surface and plunged two feet into the mud below. Her hind hooves followed soon after. Using her back legs as leverage she tried to pull her front hooves free. Her hind legs sunk deeper in the sticky mud. The mud crawled up above her hooves starting on her legs. She looked up from the water towards Briar just feet away on the safety of the island.
“Alright Briar. I'm sinking. Help me out here,” she chuckled a bit. Briar's eyes light up, and his grin across his face widened. Lyra's stomach started to drop. “B..Briar that's not funny. Help me.” Her voice quivered as the fear started to grow. Briar stood there as if in some form of triumph. Meanwhile Lyra was sinking further and further. Tears started to form in Lyra's eyes. “Briar please!” she pleaded with him desperately. “I don't want to die,” she stuttered. She knew she didn't have much time left, she could no longer move her back hooves at all.
“You stupid pony,” Briar finally spoke. “You clearly don't know your friend at all. You followed me blindly all the way here. I even gave you a clue as to what I am. Your friend went missing hours ago. Right into my swamp,” a cackle escaped him. “Do you know how many of your kind I've lead here before? Oh trust me, you're not the first.” The form of the green haired pony started to shift and warp. Eventually it came to its true form. A floating ball of silver flame hovered before Lyra.
Lyra's tears were now soaked with tears. The water was now covering the lower half of her flank. Her front was sinking as well, and was up to her chest. “Why, why would you do this?” she sobbed the words out.
“Why? Why, why indeed. Because your fear, your misery, it's such a delicacy. Your utter hopelessness at this very moment is so delicious how could I not do this to you. This whole time you've been teasing me with glints of fear, letting me know that you would taste absolutely divine if I could give you a slow and agonizing death. I will be here to listen to you scream for help even as you drown. Until your heart stops beating and your brain stops working I shall feast on your terror.” The featureless form of the silver flame split partially through the middle, giving a truly evil smile despite its physical limitations. “The best part of it all though, is that I get to use your friend's voice to do it all. To have your one source of comfort and hope in such a strange place, become your nightmare and death.”
Lyra shook her head in defiance, trying to gather her courage. As her tail was completely submersed in water and the water rose to the base of her neck, she shouted. “Briar! Help!” the cry was long. The echo bounced off of the trees, coming back to her. She gave several more shouts as the water rose up to her throat. The Will-o-wisp offered nothing but a cruel cackle at her misfortune and futile attempts to call for help.
“The best part about this whole thing is, right after you die. I'll go and find your friend, looking just like you. I'll lead him back to this very spot, and let him die as well. I wont even reveal myself to him. I'll let him die, thinking that you hate him. I may even lead him on a little. And thanks to you, I even know his name. I've spent enough time with you that I'll know exactly what to do and say so he wont have a single clue,” another cackle escaped the being.