//------------------------------// // On slavery in Tietus // Story: Mordane Stronghoof // by Mr Stargazer //------------------------------// Mordane sat with the pitter-patter of rain dripping down his legs. He felt the other pony huddling in the corner shivering and whimpering. Her torn hat pulled low on her head. A unicorn, he believed, but that didn’t matter. Nothing really mattered. I failed It was like a rabid dog gnawing at him, biting him. Every moment growling and snapping at his ears. Tearing into his mind. Failure. He had run from it so long. Yet what did he have to show for it? Bruised and blackened. Fields- no, MOUNTAINS- of bodies piled up, the blood pooling over him, staining it all black. The whispers in his mind. His parents dead or captured. Twilight betrayed. Starcharmer. Now Stalker. The pressure was too much, more than he could carry, more than he could bear. His chest heaved. A small gasp. The tears although, wouldn’t come. They were gone, washed away. So he sat and trembled in the dark and under the rain. Warmth. The other pony plopped down next to him and pulled in a hug. For once Mordane didn’t think and he pulled the mare close. Her face ended pressed up to his. The warm tears falling onto his cheek as her hat blocked out the rain. “W-warmth.” She stammered. “Warmth” Mordane replied. He held her till’ the rain stopped, till her tears dried. He held her as he tried to remember the exact moment his heart died. Mordane didn’t remember going to sleep. Blessedly it was a dreamless sleep. Even as the sun came up and his fur warmed he laid there ignoring the murmurs all around him. His wing was still draped over the pony next to him. The mare stared. He moved his wing and lifted it up to the sound of oohs and aahs. Their cage was set at the foot of a stage and there were tens of dozens of ponies staring at him through the bars, children and parents alike. Standing, he ignored the creak in his right knee and the ponies to focus on the mare scooting and wobbling looking at him. “Name?” He asked abruptly. “Trixie.” She lifted up her head “Trixie Lulamoon.” “I am Mordane.” He looked around the market. Judging by the crowd it seemed that selling had actually been going on for a while. The crowd parted and two guards arrived. Wordlessly they opened the cage and motioned for them to get out. Trixie complied without question and so Mordane followed. They were lead up to a stage were a grinning slave merchant was giving an introduction. “Never in all my years have I seen a pony such as this. All three races in one! You have heard of this mercenary who scoured villages and burned bridges all for gold! Never again will you have the opportunity to buy... THE WARLORD STRONGHOOF!" The crowd gasped making the slaver smile even more, “I am starting the bidding at one thousand bits!” “One thousand bits!” “One thousand fifty!” Mordane looked around and noted the slave auction was being held in a market, where two roads met. Villagers probably came here often. Looking to the back of the crowd he saw another raised platform at the back. Guards standing around it as servant fed three walking fashion disasters. Subtlety didn’t seem to be a word either the mare or the two stallions had ever heard. They were each sitting in different open carriages adorned with velvet and partially see through curtains. Which he made the mental assumption must have spells upon them to be practical in this climate. One of the stallions whispered to his help standing nearby. “My master Count Stuliad offers two thousand bits!” “Two thousand one hundred!” “I ask for confirmation of the magical potential of the stallion.” The wealthy mare behind the curtain didn’t raise her voice, to Mordane it seemed as if she had simply been standing beside him, whispering into his ear. It almost seemed to be trying to climb up under his skin. In his heart he felt a stirring, something pushing through to the surface. Instead of being pushed by it he held it in contempt. What had knowledge ever done to help him save anyone. “I am sorry my lady. But this merchandise blew his horn during the battle. If you wish you may send a trusted servant up.” Mordane stood still and waited as a pony with a stiff upper lip strode onto the stage. He was quite old but still projected an air of strength. Smoothly he lifted up Mordane’s mane revealing the metal magical suppressor. He tapped it before taking off the strap. There were oohs and aahs at his broken horn by the front row. The stern pony quickly touched the back making Mordane wince before turning and nodding his confirmation. Then he quickly left the stage. “And the wings?” “Of course.” Mordane felt the slave master move up to him and whisper in his ear before attaching a chain to his neck collar “I will activate the pain rune unless you show them you can fly.” Mordane felt his wings claps loosen. He stretched them and then quickly snapped them back to his side to hover for a few moments. The crowd began to mumble. Seemingly unconvinced so Mordane decided to show them a trick Rainbow Dash used to do. With a sudden thrust of his wings forward then back he lashed out at them with a gust of wind. Blowing back scarves and knocking off hats. They all gasped and took a step back. He wasn’t looking at them though. He was looking at the mare behind the curtain. It was blown back by his gust and revealed for a few moments a startled pony. She was covered head to foot in cloths of fine make and golden lined gems. It was impossible to determine her race. Not with so little time and so much covered. Her eyes though were bright green. “Fourteen thousand for him and the blue unicorn.” “My-lady, the other patrons…” “Twenty thousand then.” The shadow moved as if she was rubbing her own temple. “I bore of this.” The crowd was nearly in an uproar. One could barely hear over them the other potential buyers. The slave master didn’t wait. “Accepted, the Warlord Stronghoof and one Unicorn to Duchess Stormfoot of Brightonhall.” Mordane was pushed by and corralled to a different cage with the mare called Trixie already waiting. He stepped inside calmly and turned to sit. The mare Trixie kept her head low and gave him sideway looks at his wings. Her brow was furrowed slightly. “Speak your piece.” Mordane spat. “Are you the warlord Stronghoof?” She said through gritted teeth. He scowled and squared up against her. “That is what they called me. First time I am hearing it. Seems accurate though.” She squared up to him too. Her horn was lowered in an attack position. “It was you who destroyed Trixie’s cart! You are the reason she is here!” “Oh.” Mordane’s ears drooped. “You mean from my scavenging parties yes?” “Yes!” She snarled. “What do you have to say to Trixie!” Mordane sat down on his rump and sighed. The coldness was ice in the summer heat. Drained away with little concern for propriety and social nuance. “I have nothing to say.” He whispered “Many ponies were hurt by my actions. It is done. I cannot change that. I already lost everything.” “That’s it? No apology?” She made a face as if she was swallowing lemons. “Trixie is a slave now, most likely for the rest of her life.” She sat down, her ears drooping. “How can you not say anything?” Mordane closed his eyes and considered for a moment. He tried to think of something to say. Tried to think of anything to make him lie. But he couldn’t, not anymore, not even to himself. “I would do it again.” Trixie froze, her fur standing on end. “In war you win or you fall. My army needed food, gold and yes, carts. Otherwise, the army would have fallen. If I could march an army so far without stealing I would but that is not reality, not without a massive nation to support you.” He looked into her eyes and gave a small smile. “Kindness is the luxury of the strong. My defeat should make it clear. I was not strong.” Perhaps two days passed as he and Trixie were carted along bumpy roads surrounded by guards, and behind their new mare owner. Two days without food or water. Mordane was able to rationalize this. It was a simple way to force compliance. To deny the essentials of life for no reason then offer them back for good service when the prisoners were desperate. It made sense. Every morning, noon and night a guard would come up to them and wash a spell over them. His skin prickled under the sensation. Without his magical sense he couldn’t even tell the nature of the spells. On the second day though, immediately after the spell they brought a cup of water to Trixie. The mare had taken the sudden starvation badly. Growing more desperate as the hours had ran on. Mordane sat in the corner and thought about things. He seemed to be doing a lot of that during battle. Just thinking and letting what happened happen. From habit he quickly ran over possible escape plans but couldn’t think of any. He would try to think of the future and just kept drawing blanks. “M-Mordane.” Whispered Trixie, shivering. “I-I need to be near you. I’m freezing.” “You appear to be entering the first stage of starvation.” He sat behind her and wrapped his hooves and wings over her wet fur. “Your body is cutting back on energy consumption. You can’t shiver, costs too many calories.” “Don’t-” She swallowed “don’t you think I know that?” “No idea.” She sat silently in wrapped in his warmth. “Don’t think of doing anything.” She glared back over her shoulder. “I’m not that kind of mare.” “I am not interested in you Trixie. I am doing this solely to help you.” “Why?” “I’m not sure.” He shrugged “Usually I’d be thinking about how to control you, or get something from you. Now, I just can’t bring myself to care.” “You are depressed, Trixie thinks.” “No, that isn’t right. I’m just… Directionless. There is nothing for me to do.” He rested his chin on her shoulder. “I used to care about saving my family from Celestia.” "The princess knows about you?” Mordane chuckled. Trixie wasn’t a dull cookie. “Yeah, reason I ran. Always wanted to control my own destiny. Celestia was concerned about hers.” A guard walked up seemingly angry. Mordane spoke before he could refute them though. “Your master’s unicorn is suffering from starvation. She cannot make enough heat to keep herself warm. Please bring her food.” The stallion stopped and didn’t say anything. His eyes tinted with pity. Turning he walked away. A few minutes later he returned. Two loaves of bread and a bucket of water in his wings. “Your master has decided to show mercy and break tradition to feed and water you before arrival. Do not abuse her kindness and consider it weakness.” Mordane nodded and reached out with a hoof and pushed the bucket in front of Trixie as he held the loaves off the dirty cage floor. The mare practically dove into the bucket and took two long droughts before Mordane pulled her head out. Water dripped off her mane onto the floor. “Easy! You don’t want to get sick. Here, eat a few bites of bread.” He shoved it into her hooves. “Trixie-” She gasped “Trixie is no child.” “Then don’t act like it.” Mordane picked up the bucket and sipped himself two mouthfuls of water, careful not to spill any. “There is enough water here for two days. Should be enough if they expected us to go without water the whole time.” The two sat silently as the wagon continued along. _____________________________________________________________________________________ When a soul suffers again and again the mind begins to harden, hope dies. Without love there can be no hope to flame these embers again. They take on a heart of stone. They are reduced to beings whose fears and questions have been stripped from them or they die. The line had arrived at a city. One Mordane remembered as the one where he saved Boulder. Yet this time he didn’t enter through the main gate but a much smaller and fancier one leading to High Point. The community of the rich. Nobles and wealthy merchants all held homes in the district. It was cornered off from the rest of the city and much to Mordane’s surprise, far cleaner. It was still revolting but the streets were obviously swept regularly. They were taken to one of the mansions near the back entrance to the castle. Closer to the seat of power means more powerful. _______________________________________________________________________________ They were lined up against the wall in the back courtyard by a minotaur. He tried to focus but he just couldn’t. He felt empty. “I do not know where you four come from.” Said a well-dressed pony. “I am the head servant here at the mansion. Whoever you were, forget them. For now on you are a slave.” He stopped in front of Mordane and glared at him. “Escape is impossible. Those collars and binds suppress your magic and would allow the master to have you found and brought back. If she must I am to inform you that it would be… unpleasant.” Mordane stared forward as another pony was brought out. A wide eyed earth pony with a red coat. His fur was dirty and rough. A scab under his right eye. Mordane did nothing as the rest of the line flinched and gaged as the slave was thrown to the ground and trampled by the two guards who had brought him there. The screaming continued for a full minute before suddenly coming to a stop. The prim and proper pony stepped over the bloody crumpled form of the now dead pony as one would a bump on the road. “That former slave tried to escape. Him and three other were killed this way. Tonight their bodies go to the pit.” Mordane suddenly cocked his head in confusion as a jeweled necklace was pulled from the servant’s suit and placed around the pony’s broken neck. “The beast is always hungry.” Everypony shuddered. Flashes of recognition in the other slaves only served to confuse Mordane more. What is this about a beast in a keep? Why the necklace? He snapped back to attention as the dead pony was pulled by the guards into a cart and over to a stone slab. Three ponies with poles had shown up and began to work the slab off. A foul stench of blood filled the air. A deep growl that shook him to the bone came out. “ A meal? It’s been some time. ” The pony was unceremoniously dumped into the hole. Everyone listened in horror as you could hear the crunching of bones even as the stone slab was pushed back into place. “Serve our master well and you will live comfortably. The guard will show to you to the slave quarters. You will receive instructions in the morning. Cleanse yourselves before then.” Trixie was trembling. Along with many others. For Mordane he could detach himself from the situation. Think logically about the horrible. So while they were lead around the magnificent house he was trying to pin down something nagging him. ______________________________________________________________________________________________ The slave quarters were little more than a shack with cots and a large tub. Big enough for three ponies to use at a time. Mordane went to the well and began drawing water immediately to fill it. Most of the others seemed at a loss, doing nothing. He didn’t wish to use others bath water to stay clean. There was one pony however that came out to help him about ten minutes into the task, a bucket hanging around her neck like his from the tool shed. “Tr- I do not like to be dirty.” Mordane nodded and pulled the well bucket up a second time for Trixie. “Best to go with the flow. No use in obstinate defiance.” He wrinkled his nose. “Plus I’d rather get an inside job and not have to work the garden.” “I am surprised to hear you use that word, obstinate. Trixie thought a brute like you from this land wouldn’t know anything besides fighting.” “Killing.” Mordane grunted as he poured the bucket into the tub “I know killing. I’m not from these parts though.” “Where is the brute from then?” “Equestria.” He smiled a bit and looked off to the north. Trixie snorted. “That is where you got the idea for the wings Celestia?” she smiled. “I was born with these wings.” His eyes hardened. “If that were true then you would have been a student of the princess.” Trixie grinned “Those fake wings can’t fool me.” Mordane stepped in front of her. Suddenly she could see his eyes like a furnace glaring into her. “I would never give that bitch even one honest bow. I hid and I ran to escape her shadow.” He turned to the side presenting his bound wing. “Feel them. Look at my legs. Tell me that I am no alicorn.” Trixie hesitated before sitting down her bucket and moving her hooves to run along his wing joints. She felt the muscles bunch up. She moved down to his leg and could feel the slightly different shape of an earth pony hooves. She stepped back frowning. “Trixie can find no scars….no magic runes.” She looked into his eyes. “I didn’t think that it could be true that somehow you where faking.” “You saw yourself. Though not as well as I might. Hiding didn’t give me much flying experience. I have to use my magic to go any decent speed.” Trixie went back to her bucket. Her mouth still open and began to fill up the bath again. Afterwards the both of them hopped in and began to use a block of soap to clean themselves. Suddenly, Trixie stomped, splashing everywhere. “Why would you leave?” Mordane glared at her. “Clean yourself Trixie.” The two of them continued cleaning themselves. That night the whispering crowd made it difficult to sleep but he still made himself rest. _____________________________________________________________ Mordane stretched his neck. Trying not to think too hard. Maybe he would take a bath. His ears twitched. “You missed everything!” “I’m- I’m sorry.” A guard was standing over Trixie. He had his whip drawn and was waving it over her. Mordane didn’t think. He simply moved across the yard in an instant. The guard raised his whip. Mordane stepped between them causing the soldier to redirect his blow. “What in Tartarus are you-“ Mordane stepped close. His eyes locked onto the guard’s. Eyes empty and devoid of anything. The guard froze. “Excuse me sir.” He gave Trixie a push. Mordane quickly moved her away from the soldier and over into the barracks leaving the guard behind. Once inside Trixie breathed a sigh of release. Wrapping herself in her arms. “Sleep well Trixie.” Mordane said offhand before trotting back out to take a bath. ______________________________________________________________ The next Morning they were woken up to a loud banging. Then they were sent off under other slaves. Apiece. The first two and Mordane where sent with some guards. Trixie was taken by a maid. They were lead out of the city and directed toward a large field where several dozen other ponies were working. "You new?" Asked an old stallion after Mordane was pushed beside him and thrown a hoe. "Aye." Mordane grunted. Immediately getting to work. "Been awhile though." "Well you never forget it." The stallion stopped and drank from the communal water bucket. "Still. Miss working my own farm." Mordane nodded and got to work. None of the slaves made any comment on his wings or horn. Though a few noted his work as he shoveled the dirt. "You got the touch." Spoke up a stallion across from him. "Lucky for you I suppose. Many of us are just cut pegasi." That gave Mordane pause. Suddenly taking notice of the scars across many of the ponies back and their narrowish frame. "Do you think they will cut mine?" "Don't know why they haven’t already...Maybe you are just too valuable." Mordane grunted and kept working. A few weeks ago and I'd be only thinking about escape. Now though his mind turned back north. To the life he had left and his little cabin. Safe with a clean bed and steady income. Yes he had to live under Celestia, but at least it wasn't this. Funny. I left to escape being under her control. Now I'm a slave. He thought back to commanding that army and to Trixie. How many others had he condemned through his actions. How many where buried in early graves. All around him ponies where toiling away. The air smelled of sweat and despair. He remembered the smell of Pinkie’s sweets and Applejack’s Cider. Heh, could use some of that now... all these ponies coul- A whip cracked like hot iron against his back. He gasped. "Faster! Or you won't get any water!" Mordane pushed through the pain and worked faster. Now he took note of the guard standing behind him. It was the guard from the day before. Undoubtedly he would make sure to work him into submission. He noted the other guards nearby all glancing at him. Ah, they want to break me. Funny thing is I'm not sure there is anything left to break. I remember when Twilight tried to push me. Make me cast more. I was always afraid to go full out with her. My growing strength was a problem. Maybe if I had been more focused on study we would have made it to spell binds. Another whip across his back. Mordane staggers. "I said faster!" Mordane didn't respond. He just kept on digging. A hot stream seeming down his thigh from where he had been struck. I'm glad Spike isn't here. Guy couldn't take seeing this. Always was a softy. The other slaves where scooting as far from him as possible. Wide eyed as the guards began whipping him repeatedly. Trying to gain some reaction out of him. Mordane though wasn't there. He collapsed and still wasn't there. The pain had become a dull throb. Hitting him ever few seconds. I miss Sweetie belle. Applebloom. I miss them all. "I SAID GET UP AND GET DIGGING!" "Sir! You are going to kill him!" There was a thud as the whipping stopped. Mordane could hear the guards arguing but the words had no meaning. Mordane accepted it. All of it. The suffering he had caused. The cruelty. Mordane heard the stallion rear back to hit him again. He sidestepped, eyes still closed, and stopped. He felt no anger. No fear. No rage. Only calm. Calm like the wind and solid as the earth as he sidestepped the whip again and stepped in. His eyes flashed open to stare through the helmet holes of his guard. Glaring with stone cold eyes. The guard intuitively pulled back mid swing and tumbled backward into a mud hole. Mordane stared at him for a moment. Trembling in his armor. He looked at all the other guards. The fear that was already there on full display. They are afraid of me. Of the Warlord. He tasted the name, just for an instant before turning back to begin his toil. The name tasted good and for the first time darkness consumed him. ______________________________________________________________________________________________ Mordane was awake. He couldn’t remember waking up. “You’re awake.” Someone choked. Mordane turned his head to see Trixie over him. Bags under her eyes. “Trixie?” “Mordane.” She turned and brought out a cup of steaming liquid “Drink this.” “Thank you.” He said slowly pushing himself up to a sitting position. He reached back and felt the bandages over his throbbing back. The pain of the whipping rising back out of his mind. He winced. “You were hurt because you helped me…thank you.” Mordane sighed “Think nothing of it.” “But why?” She said causing Mordane to raise an eyebrow “Why did you help me?” “…” Mordane groaned and rubbed his hair vigorously. “You remind me of someone…Someone I met long ago.” “Oh.” Trixie slid back into her normal haughty air. “Truly she must have been great for me to remind you.” Mordane looked down at his hooves eyes lidding slightly in memory. “She was.” “It’s too bad…you will not be able to get back to her.” Trixie’s eyes folded down. “I wish there was a way to escape. I’ve tried every way to get this collar off.” Mordane looked up and cocked his head to the side. “There is a way.” “How!?” “I could make an enchantment to cancel the signal from the master stone. At least long enough for us to get out of its range.” He sighed “But we would need a unicorn who can charge it.” Trixie suddenly puffed up her chest. “The amazing Trixie has found a way to use magic despite her restraint!” “…how?” “Well.” Trixie stammered collapsing back into herself slightly. “I uh-“ “Because the horn restraints are calibrated to your strength. Any energy above you lowest gain is counteracted.” “Yes… Well, Trixie may have… Lied about her strength to the pony she was taking a loan from.” “Again. How?” “Trixie…may have used an illusion spell to make him think she was a pyromancer.” Mordane sighed again. “And so you were given too high of a gain on your restraint. If so at the right output you could maintain a spell.” Mordane leaned back against the wall behind him. “Where would I go though?” Trixie closed her mouth quickly. Her eyes flicked around before refocusing on him. “What about the mare you know.” “She is dead.” He opened his eyes for a moment “You have her hair.” "Then could you do it for me?” “Why would I do it for you?” Trixie frowned and put both her hooves onto the bed. “I am here because of you.” Mordane froze. “Are you not going to take responsibility?” Mordane blinked. “Wut?” ______________________________________________________________________________________________ "The Master demands your presence." Mordane nodded. It had been three days since the whipping. He was resting after the head slave had seen his wounds and cursed the guards. This sudden demand for him to be brought before her would have made him run off a million scenarios before, but now he was just focused on how strange this unnatural calm felt. Calm of spirit and of mind. He could accept that he just didn’t know what was going to be. So he would deal with it as it came. They took him into the house and Firm Stroke was waiting for them just inside the door with cologne and a brush. He quickly started tidying up Mordane and generally filling him with contempt for the pony. “Despite my warnings your good behavior and manners has convinced the Master that you are ready to enter her presence and serve at her leisure. You will do whatever she says. You will not look her in the eyes. You-“ Mordane tuned him out at that point. Instead, he considered the room around him and the pony that would make it. At first glance one could tell that the owner controlled vast amounts of wealth. Gold and jewels were placed as if presenting the auditorium. Laid casually as if one would spare change to be taken to buy some trinket or another. Paintings hung upon the entryways. After being lead through the doors he could feel the vast space above him. Two full floors and an ornate staircase would undoubtedly instill awe in anyone visiting. The art became more ornate the farther in they went as guards patrolled the corridors. Despite this ornate display of wealth Mordane felt something was off. Why would anypony go to such an extent to show off their wealth? Is it pride? Desire to be seen? No… then she wouldn’t keep herself covered. He was lead up to a small dining room. Then through a side door. The change between the outside and inside of this part of the building was stark. While the other was obsolescent this one was all function. Well, function, as far as one could expect. There was far less art, no gold or jewels. Something clicked in Mordane’s head and he automatically filed it away for later into the back of his mind. His fear was covered in a mass of apathy. Directionless, he had some ideas about what was about to happen but he just couldn’t bring himself to care. After being pushed through another pair of doors he found himself in an office. Nautical maps and road maps hung on the walls. Small ticks and symbols gave the impression of an extensive trade network. Sitting behind the desk was the mare who now owned him. Veil hung over her face and desk neat and clear. “Mordane Stronghoof, commander, killer and pony of many races.” The Mare paused and he could faintly see a smile through her veil “I am Lady Swirl, your owner.” Her voice was surprisingly harsh to Mordane. Not like a lady at all. It reminded him more of a caravan trader. He did not doubt that the bottom of her hooves was not without rough spots. His eyes flicked to said hoof as she motioned for a nearby servant made to hoof her a glass of wine. Taking a small sip she swirled the liquid slightly. Though not with the vigor of someone who truly enjoyed it. “Would you not prefer some hard cider?” Mordane smirked before catching himself. She froze for a faction of a second, Mordane was certain, then she calmly sat down the glass. “I can’t say I’m surprised that one from you walk of life would prefer such an indelicate drink. Perhaps you would like a glass?” “No thank you. I don’t drink, save for when the situation suits it.” “I insist.” Mordane had a rather large glass of clear liquid in front of him. The pony behind him gave a slight shove indicating he would not be getting out of this. He picked up the glass and drank it all. Steeling himself to not show anything resembling disgust. It burned as it rolled past the back of his troughs. Going down like a band of rampaging minotaurs. He exhaled solidly out of his nose despite his now burning lungs crying for more oxygen. He breathed in before opening his eyes again and looking at the mare before him. “There. I am sure that would take the edge off this stressful time.” “Why did you buy me?” A smack to the back of his head left him feeling as if a bell had been rung under his skull. He kept his eyes on the mare who still sat in front of him. “Slaves do not question Masters.” She took another sip of her wine. “You were working the fields. I’d like a recount of the whipping you received three days ago.” “I was working and the driver ordered me to work faster than I physically could, then whipped me when I failed to comply. Then whipped me more due to his fear.” The guards around him tensed up. As if ready to strike him. Mordane considered which one’s neck he would break before the mare cut in. “That is correct.” Mordane cocked his head to the side. “It is important that a slave knows that obedience will not be met with violence. That disobedience means pain. Both these must be true for a relationship such as ours to work.” She pointed at Mordane. “However. This attitude of yours…usually there is some resistance from ponies who are used to being the masters who become the slave. Yet you do not balk. Why?” Mordane looked up at the ceiling and considered his answer for a few moments. “I have no reason to do so.” “Do you not want freedom?” “Not particularly.” He shrugged. “I tried to make my own way before. It ended in the death of my only two friends in the world. Right now I have no where I wish to be.” “And if you did?” Mordane considered for another moment. His mind beginning to get groggy from the high proof alcohol. “Then I’d probably try to escape.” “Ah, but what of your bindings. How would you escape without activating your collar?” “Judging by the runes on them. They have a specific function. Seemingly activated at range.” Mordane replied politely. “I’m not sure exactly what that is though.” “It’s simple, a drop of my blood on the associated rune in my vault and the collar activates. Killing you via suffocation.” Mordane resisted the urge to reach up and rub his neck. Before suddenly realizing something. He smiled slightly. “Oh? You find this funny. Don’t you realize that this means there is no escape?” “I suppose I could just wait for you to die.” Once again the mare skipped a beat this time her brow furrowed at the counter. Mordane knew that she was used to being the one directing the conversation. “Excuse me?” “Time is an enemy for most ponies.” Mordane replied calmly “For me it is an ally. In time you will age. In time you will die. In time your children will die. But I, I will live on as healthy as I am now.” The mare blinked rapidly. A strange light entering her eyes. “No one lives forever.” The mare sneered. “I do.” She glared over to the commander. “Take this fool back to the fields. Work him till he drops.” Mordane stood allowing himself to be lead out. Through the building and straight out to the field. ______________________________________________________________________________________________ Ten hours later Mordane collapsed with every muscle burning. He was thrown into a bed and the next day it they took him out again. And again. And again. And again. Each day harder than the last. The days began to blur together. Always there were guards around him. At first sneers and jeers would come from them. By the tenth day though the jeers had stopped. He sustained on water and gruel. A mixture of oats, hay, apples, oranges, milk and nuts. It both looked and smelled like food out of the wrong pipe but eat it he did. It was clear that she was trying to break him but Mordane didn’t feel mental stress from this. In fact it seemed logical to him. It wasn’t rage or spite nor any other emotion that allowed him to keep going. It was the moments of silence that he dreaded. While eating his food, just before sleep. His mind would think back inside he would feel nothing but sorrow. Thought of nothing but his dead friends. Of his failures and trying to understand where he had gone wrong. He considered ending it all but knew that only hell would await him. The sadness did not sit like a stone, it wasn’t a roaring lion, it wasn’t a force dragging at him. It was silence. The sound of silence filled him. A silence he had not felt in decades. Not since he had two hands. The silence of one already dead. On the fifteenth day he collapsed again. Earlier than ever before. He woke up two days later and once again he was taken out to the fields. He moved stones, he plowed the fields. As time went on his strikes became firmer and more vicious. He struck the ground in fury. Demanding it give way. Mordane lost track of the days. One came after the other. He became lost in thought. The faces of the dead became his constant companion and he thought if perhaps he deserved this. ______________________________________________________________________________________________ “We are heading in.” Mordane stopped and looked back up at his guard. Snow beginning to encroach on his face. “It’s getting dark we need to go back in.” For the first time Mordane walked himself back to the slave bunks. The next day it happened again. After that he found himself back in the normal ranks of slaves. The others giving a wide berth as he tore at the ground. It surprised him when he was sent back with the rest of them after a six hour shift. For the first time in he didn’t know how long Mordane took a bath. Before entering he doused himself in water. He had even taken the time to boil a few buckets of water to mix in. “Mordane?” The stallion jerked over to see Trixie standing in on the edge of the tub. Her mouth hanging open. “Correct.” He motioned her over. Trixie awkwardly got into the tub. “You, look different.” Mordane grunted and continued to scrub the dirt out of his hair. “What do you mean?” “I can see muscle on you.” Mordane paused then and looked down at himself. It was definitely true. The fat had been ripped right off of him. He wasn’t what anyone would call buff but he was in better shape than he had ever been. “How long was I working?” Mordane asked starting up his scrubbing again. “I lost track.” “Two months.” She said, trying to clean herself again. “Many were saying it would kill you. It would have killed anypony not an earth pony.” Mordane grunted again. “What is it that you want Trixie?” The Mare leaned in and Mordane paused to listen. “Are you going to help me escape?” “I am still uncertain.” Mordane sighed. “But-” “You owe me.” She whispered. “And I owe you for helping me that time.” Mordane shook his head. “That rune would take a few hours to set up. I would need a hard lump of iron and a long time. Without my horn I’d have to talk you through it.” “Just be ready.” She hissed before moving off. Mordane sighed as more slaves got into the tub. Deciding he was clean enough he got out and headed off to walk around the premise. He began to take note of the placement of guards and fences. There was a solid perimeter around the mansion. It was almost a small keep in itself. A short stone wall ran around the length of the perimeter with only three exit points. Guards held those. There weren’t that many guards considering the number of slaves though. Mordane sighed remembering the collars. Large breakouts where unlikely in this situation, and individuals would just be stomped down. He had about four hours to himself. Many spent this time out in the fields. Growing their own food to supplement the gruel or to save and eventually buy their own freedom. It reminded him of roman version of slavery. Very different from the southern united states or other places. What the hell am I doing…? He stopped and vigorously scratched his head. He had been planning. Thinking about how to escape. Kill the guards. Maybe charge the room with the owner in it. Anything you do will just get them killed. He sighed. Eyes flicking toward the guards pretending to not follow him along the wall. They have little chance anyway. Anyone who tries to bring me into it has no grasp of the situation. Without me, with me. Both ways they are doomed. He moved to the corner of the wall and laid his back against it. Sighing heavily and letting his head thump back against the stone. He lightly growled and resuscitated himself. Then he clicked his teeth in frustration. He just couldn’t relax. He hadn’t really tried to for so long that it felt unnatural. With a grunt he thought back while scratching his ear. There was once a way he had used to relax and to focus. But it had been so long since it had worked for him. Since before his transformation. Despite his reservations he leaned once again against the wall and closed his eyes before lifting his hooves and clicking the bottom of them together. A quick prayer and he focused. Breathing deeply he called out into himself. He reached for the core. He breathed. A walnut in his throat, his legs were like noodles and his fur ruffled as goosebumps ran up and down his spine. Distractions, don’t think, accept your feelings and push on. He resisted the urge to grind his teeth at how hard this was. He used to be able to live in this state. In the calm. So he pushed again. Images of Stalker and all those he had killed flashed like hot irons against his mind. He gasped and was almost literally thrown out of his meditation. Sighing he stood up and shockingly walked back to his bed to sleep. That night he found a bar of iron under his pillow. The Slave forger watched him like a hawk. He had been transferred to a smelter on the same property as the farm held by his owner. The smith had him shoveling coal next to the blazing furnace. The heat wasn’t as bad as the soot as the smithy had little insulation. Mordane, however enjoyed the job more than the digging of dirt. Forging of copper and other metals was interesting to be sure but the stallion treated the making of steel almost as if it was holy. It took hours to pull the iron out of the raw ore. Impurities where a given and so it would take many cycles of reheating to make the iron pure enough. For all the ore brought in perhaps one twentieth of it would be iron. By far most of the work they did with the precious metal was the melting down of old items made of it. Some had obviously been dug out of the ground from some ancient battle. Their historical significance was lost as he scrubbed them and threw them into a smelter. This pushed home just how valuable the Iron bar was. How Trixie had gotten ahold of it was beyond him. It was always beyond what he would want to know as he doubted it was through clean ways. Only two inches by five inches long, it could be considered a form of currency comparable to gold in the south. For this reason he had volunteered for the smithy job despite the terrible conditions. He would need to smelt the iron then pour the raw mixture into a mold he had made for the runes. Yet his volunteering was the very reason that the Smith was watching him so obsessively. It would mean a whipping if even one thimble of iron went missing. “I’ve tasted the fire.” Mordane said suddenly breaking the hours of silence. “It is a great angry greedy thing. It takes what it wants.” He looked at the surprised stallion. “I’d like to learn how to use fire to create.” After that the stallion began to teach Mordane how to work the forge. Perhaps he commented by the end of the day, his mark would be a hammer and tongs. Mordane doubted that. He doubted he would ever get a mark. It was something he had put aside a year ago. It took time but in a few weeks he was alone with the forge. It was a month until he would have enough confidence to pour the mold without being caught or as he discovered from the lessons with enough skill to not crack it. Miss Swirl called him in again exactly three months since she had bought him. He had been taken to a room before and scrubbed down by three maids before being taken to her. “Sit.” He obeyed the simple command; sitting in the chair surrounded by many guards. The tension in the room was noticeably higher than the last time. He looked at the guard standing to his right as he sat down. It must have been in how tightly he was locking his knees or perhaps the stone wall behind his eyes. “Good evening Miss Swirl.” He said simply. A smack to the back of the head immediately harder than last time. Hard enough to almost throw him from the chair. “You will address the Mistress as my Lady.” Snapped the head butler slave. “My Lady.” Mordane replied calmly moving back to the upright position. Mordane noted this time she was not drinking. Nor fiddling with no concern. Not that she wasn’t doing anything. It was that her nonchalant attitude came across as forced. It was obvious in how she eyed him. “By what I’ve been told.” She continued “That you have performed your tasks exactly, without complaint and with great effort.” Mordane cocked his head to the side. This certainly wasn’t a direction he would have predicted the conversation would take. Miss Swirl leaned over the desk before continuing. “Which seems rather strange. Don’t you agree?” “Not particularly no.” She laughed, chuckled really. She then leaned back in her chair and turned to her butler. “Do you think we were cheated?” “It seems quite a possibility Miss.” The butler sniffed “He certainly doesn’t act like the necromancer killer. Frankly I expected more.” Mordane stiffened and she laughed again. “Raising the dead indeed. This colt doesn’t even have a cutie mark.” “Such a low life. It is hardly surprising my lady.” “Indeed, he must be of low breeding.” She smiled innocently with a glint in her eye. “What have you to say about this Mordane?” Mordane was glaring. His lip turned into a slight sneer as his anger bubbled up through the apathy. “If either of us has ‘low breeding’ I would say it is the earth pony trader masquerading as a noble.” Instantly the room went cold. Cold as ice as everyone froze. Save for the mare. She narrowed her eyes. The desk creaked as her muscles bunched. She jerked her head to the guard then knocked lightly on the wood twice. Mordane actually was knocked from his chair this time. He couldn’t react as the guards jumped him. He wanted to curl up but instead he laid belly down, taking the blows. “That’s enough.” The stallions pulled back and Mordane stood. Blood dripped to the floor but he stood. There was a terrible pain coming from his ear and he was certain that he would be extra sore the next day. He looked right where the Masters eyes would be and looked over his shoulders at one of the guards. “You got something to say.” The guard asked. Mordane simply looked back forward. Ignoring the pony. “Pathetic.” She shook her head. “Truly pathetic. Where is the fire I heard of? The dark necromancer who would be king? The pony able to bend an army of mercenary to his will. Who put down a rebellion with a fourth the ponies and without losing a single soldier.” Mordane blinked then closed his eyes slowly before answering. “He died at the foot of that mountain.” He opened them again and locked eyes with her. “He died along with his soldiers.” “Get out.” Mordane stood up and walked out. The guards ended up behind him. As he passed a maid she lifted a hoof to cover her mouth. Mordane’s ear twitched, he ignored it. Instead thinking back to what just happened. Bitch. What was she even trying to do? He calmed down fast enough and began to deconstruct the series of events. Ah, shaming. She was trying to shame me. “Mordane.” Mordane started taking note of his surroundings. He was outside. Around back near the kitchen where Trixie worked. He had been standing there for a few minutes. Why did I come to Trixie? “Your ear!” She gasped “Stay still” Trixie ran back into the house and quickly returned with a needle and thread. Mordane was already sitting and didn’t even move as she started sewing. “Thank you Trixie.” He said calmly. “I’m not doing this for you.” She glared suddenly. “I may need your help getting out of here.” Mordane sat quietly as she continued before responding. ______________________________________________________________________________________________ Mordane hobbled into his hammock and rubbed his bruise from a rock that had been made close acquaintances with his rib. He laid down and closed his eyes to sleep. Mordane was on the shore, on the bench, on the beach. He found himself flying and swimming. Always moving, running from something. It was behind him, always behind him. He found himself in a valley. At the fortress. Stalker and Boulder’s bodies hanging over him in the sky. “You can’t run from me anymore.” “I know.” He whispered. Not wanting to turn. “I have ran for far too long.” He turned to face himself. “Mordane.” Mordane cracked open his eyes. There was light filtering down through her hair. Blue light and- “Star charmer?” “It’s Trixie.” She hissed. “It’s time to go.” Mordane paused for a few moments, considered going back to sleep he shook his head before standing up. “Very well.” ______________________________________________________________________________________________ The Sun hung low in the horizon. Its lemon light darkening to a red as the two shadows moved into the building. They moved through the maid corridors and up onto the third floor. “Where are we going” Mordane whispered. “Quite.” She sniffed “Trixie considered abandoning you but due to her good graces you may come with her.” “Yes, but I am curious about your plans. Where are your other compatriots?” “Trixie needs no other compatriots…besides Mordane to make the enchantment.” “Yes but the plan.” “Here is the plan.” She stepped up near a window. “Trixie has set fire to the Owners quarters where the enchantment stones are.” ... “Wut.” “Trixie will cause a riot then we can escape in the chaos!” The mare turned and opened the window before stepping out onto the windowsill. Her chest puffed out and eyes shining. “Slaves! Today is the day you are free! Rise u-!” Mordane dragged her back from the window. His mind was set ablaze like a bonfire as he instinctually felt a thousand possibilities fold away. The die was cast. “What are you doing to Trixie!” “Idiot! The range of the enchantment is only ten feet! Are you trying to get ponies killed!?” “But-” She fiddled for a bit. “We could run…” “No one is going to riot.” Mordane groaned “A riot is something you get going weeks in advance. Not by yelling into the night as they are tired from a long day’s work!” A bell began to ring. Soldiers could be heard shouting at slaves to get to their barracks. Mordane could hear some ponies rushing around downstairs. Then there where shouts about a fire. “We must go!” Mordane grabbed Trixie and got her to start running with him. A soldier came around the corner behind them. “You! Stop!” They moved around the corner and down some stairs. Before suddenly being cut off. “Which way did they go?” Mordane could hear a group of guards around the next corner. His eyes flicked down as Trixie’s horn began to glow ever so slightly. There was a loud pop off in the distance. “Over there!” He heard them run down some other corridor and so Mordane and Trixie moved around the corner then dodged into a hallway that he hadn’t been under. It ran a short ways then into a door. They ran through and found themselves in a closet. “Dammit.” Mordane let go of Trixie’s hoof before turning around. Only to face three guard ponies and they see him. He slammed the door shut and grabbed a dresser before pushing it over to block the door. “What do we do?” Trixie asked. Mordane stood there panting. Trying to think. How did I get into this mess? Oh yeah. He glanced up at Trixie. No, It wasn’t her fault…I’m the one that gave her the iron rune. I enabled her. The banging on the door got louder. The wood creaked. He could see the trembling form of Trixie. He tried to think of a way to get them out but couldn’t. They would be killed. Fed to the monster in the pit. It’s just like last time He straightened, eyes widening. Just like last time….and I won’t be responsible for my team dying again. “Give me the rune.” Trixie began to fumble with her saddlebag “Quickly!” Trixie finally got it out. Mordane picked her up and she let it drop to the floor. “What?” Mordane aimed for the small window and with a grunt lifted her to it. “Go.” He hissed “Save yourself.” Trixie didn’t wait. She fumbled with the latch before sliding out the window. Mordane listened intently and heard her get up and run away. I did it. Mordane thought as the door splintered behind him. I saved one. ______________________________________________________________________________________________ Tap drip Tap Drip Mordane listened to the dripping sound. His ear wound had opened again after receiving a kick from the guards coming through the door. He had been quickly dragged up to the Lady Swirls office and thrown into the chair. There was no doubt about it. There would be no shared glass of brandy this time. “I’m quite surprised Mordane.” The mare shook her head “I would have thought better of you.” “Oh? Well it could have gone better I suppose. Did you enjoy my work on the rune?” The mare chuckled. “Who would have thought that a mercenary would know how to enchant iron? So few ever have real access to it. Plus you were not wearing enchanted armor.” “Makes it harder to collect energy. Armor sucks it up all the time.” He turned his head and spat out a tooth before grinning. “Been wondering when that one would work itself loose.” “I do wonder though…” She leaning forward slightly. “Who it was you got to help you.” “That would be no one.” Mordane leaned back. “I learned back at the castle to only trust yourself.” “Please,” She snorted. “No pony with both a broken horn and restraint could have hoped to push through enough magic to power this thing. No pony could have acquired the iron legally after only a few months without selling themselves to more than chains.” Mordane sat quietly. Frowning. Then he glared at her and leaned forward. “I am Mordane. I need no help.” The mare searched his eyes before sighing and leaning back. “It doesn’t matter. No matter your value I can’t let the attempted starting of a riot slide.” She scooted back her chair and stood up before walking around the table. Mordane could clearly see her face through the cowl as she smiled. “It has been fun Mordane.” She turned to the guards “Gather the slaves. To the pit with him.” Mordane was dragged to the bottom of the house and into the dungeon. The cell was dirty and dark. Three guards were placed to guard him through the night. ______________________________________________________________________________________________ The next morning Mordane was lead out early to the field. Quite a many slaves were waiting for him. There was a stand hanging over the now fully open hole. Without any prodding he moved onto the trapdoor. Ready to be dropped. He had a few moments of calm to breath. In the back of the crowd, he saw Trixie. Her eyes were red. Obvious tears pouring from her eyes. “Mordane Stronghoof.” Spoke up the head slave. “Has been caught trying to escape. Does the condemned have anything to say?” Mordane considered it for a few moments before deciding to respond. “I have loved. I have lost. I have killed again and again. I’m certain that I will find myself in the pit of fire if so then it was just. I have done little good, save that I saved a life once. I can only pray that he has mercy on my soul and sees fit to free those chained as I am.” Mordane lowered his head. The headmistress voice could be heard suddenly from behind him. “Bare this to the beast.” Mordane felt as her hooves attached what he could only assume was some kind of jewelry around his neck. Mordane had a moment more as she stepped back. He looked at the trees. The clouds. The wall. The slaves. Trixie. He pulled it all in. It bore into his mind. I’m okay. I’m okay with this. The door dropped.