//------------------------------// // 10 - Augury // Story: Exile’s Journey // by Meep the Changeling //------------------------------// Light Step - 12th of Chillfrost 16 EoH Bol'shoy Rynok fiefdom - Griffon Kingdoms I wasn’t into this whole ‘march for multiple days’ thing. Walking hurts. Not badly, not right away, but after a while, it just wears on my joints and moving becomes irritating. That doesn't happen when I fly. I could fly all day and be perfectly comfortable. Not here though. Not with these ponies. Stupid grounded quadrupeds… Being so slow I’d have to circle them all the time flying an extra few kilometers per kilo they walked to keep pace. I didn’t have the calories to do that. It takes a lot of energy to fly. I was pretty sure that Bladestorm could provide the extra food rations for me to stay airborne while they slowly plodded along the ground, but she said she budgeted everything out and what we had is what we could get. Stupid bandit Queen… Teleporting across half a god damn continent in the mornings to pick up some grub and check on her troops. Of course she never worked out how to transport another living being with her! My knees grumbled in irritation at the fact she could teleport with a pony’s mass of stuff but not move a living thing other than herself. Magic, if you’re listening, why? Why can’t she do that? I almost wanted to take a class on spellcraft just to know so I could stop being annoyed by it. You’d also think she could have sent an airship to pick us up. She had airships. She mentioned them when talking about her forces. Though to be fair, I don’t think I’d want to take a gunboat away from the warfront for three or four days when I only had a half dozen or so. I didn’t mind traveling without a vehicle. Ponyfeathers, that was my job description. A week long hike followed by a short boat ride across the Trader’s Sea was nothing for me. In the air. On the ground, after a mere three days, I already felt like I was in my two-seventies with arthritis starting to take hold. Even after waking up a half hour ago to get on the trail before sunup. Ugh, I needed to think of anything else. Dwelling on the pain just makes things worse. “Hey, Fell,” I said casually. “Wanna compare units?” I’d love to learn more about changeling military practices. If only to see if I could one up any of his stories. Because that’s how warrior’s bond. By out badflanking one another. “I’m a fan of the Equish Standard Scale myself,” he replied sleepily. “What about you?” “... Nevermind,” I sighed. I could talk to Repose for a while, but I wasn’t a mage or even an alchemist. And he had long since had enough of the wilderness. Poor guy just wanted to go back to his comfort zone. And nopony here could talk to him about any enchantment more complicated than a magelight. I didn’t care about him being a litch anymore. That stallion was just a really hard to kill nerd. Harmless, kind of nice, but too nerdy for non-intellectuals to casually chat with. At least, not while he kept mumbling about wishing he could see what potions could be made from the random plants we had passed yesterday. Talking with Blade was an option. But it occurred to me that I could be using the time to work out what the hay to do with my life now that I didn’t have one anymore. Five days. I’d been on my own for five days. Homeless, friendless, without any support from people I had known, and on top of it all, a thief. The few possessions I had other than my hat and my knife, I took from the Air Guard. All of my ‘belongings’ were really the Emperor’s. You’re supposed to return equipment… Now I never could. I didn’t know how to feel about that. I’d happily served the empire for years. I’d bled for the Empire, killed for it, froze and burned for it. Just to belong to something. I’d worked so hard to belong to something. I’d put in the time and work to ace the Nested Eggs. Seven thin wooden eggs five centimeters tall at the largest, each nested inside a larger egg, and set up two hundred and fifty meters away. Six broadhead bolts, one crossbow without any optics and only the standard marksmare's enchantments. Shoot the top half of each egg off the one under it without touching the egg beneath it in less than twenty seconds. They say out of every hundred recruits in basic, only three will be able to successfully shoot off a single layer. The rest will hit at least two at once and fail. I finished the challenge. I was the one in ten thousand. I won the gray beret. I had to, or else everything would have been different. I have griffon blood. I knew nopony would take me seriously unless I was one of those three. I knew I would never be respected unless I became great. That was fine, that was just life for anypony like me. But in the Air Guard I had a chance to be respected. I took it, and made damn sure I walked away a winner so I would be treated like anypony else. Ponyfeathers, I’d jumped at all of the challenges, and completed most of them. That’s how I wound up in the scout wing of the Air Guard. My entire life had been in service to the Empire. Every bit of myself went into protecting her and her people. I was a part of the Guard, and that’s all I was. Maybe somepony else would see that as a bad thing. Not me. I was a part of something. I had belonged. That’s all I needed to be happy. I’d always known the Empire wasn’t perfect. I’d known there were plenty of problems. But I’d never imagined the Steward would order the death of a law abiding citizen who had already been sentenced for their transgressions. How could I continue to serve a leader who would turn the Empire’s shield into a sword brandished at the people in his care? Bucking Tartarus! The Scout’s Hymn contains the line ‘First to fight for right and freedom, and to keep our honor clean.’ The Steward didn’t deserve loyal soldiers. The Empire I had loved died a long time ago. I’d just been enraptured by its gilded corpse. But I still had my beret. It was a bit worn and a little grungy from all my fieldwork, the silver wings pin on it more than a little tarnished, but still whole. Still a symbol anypony in most militaries would recognize. At least I could still take pride in my skills and personal accomplishments. Although, I doubted putting my hat on would do anything to earn myself a place with the ponies I had fallen in with. I didn’t hate them. I didn’t feel like it would be impossible to be friends. But I didn’t feel like I belonged with them, not yet. Not even Bladestorm, and she had treated me like a friend since day one. I wanted to be their friends, but well, what had we done together? What memories did we share? You don’t just become friends overnight. You need time, events to foster trust in one another. It takes more than walking for hundreds of kilometers, making your joints sting, because those jerks can’t fly! “Hold!” Blade called sharply but quietly, bringing my attention to the front of our tiny column. We had been following a dry riverbed for the last few hours of our journey. The clay covered bottom being essentially a natural road free of obstacles. While I had been lost in thought we had come to a corner and- I sniffed the air. “I smell it too,” I said quietly. “Someone's got a fire nearby.” None of us wanted to walk into a griffon settlement. Or worse, a warlord’s camp. “You look like a griffon from the ground,” Fell said to me, amazingly not as an insult. That was a first! “It’s still fairly dark. If you fly up you can get eyes on target and let us know how to proceed,” he finished. “That’s a good plan. Are you up for it, Light?” Blade asked. I nodded. “Anything to get off my hooves.” I unfurled my wings and lifted off, using a corkscrew climb to wind my way up a few hundred meters into the sky without moving too far away from where I had been standing. I was a good flier, but I’d never been able to work out a way to do true Vertical Take-off without pulling both my pectorals. One thing about my mixed blood which I loved, were my eyes. A pegasi’s vision is very good as is, they have no problem spotting a mouse scampering through the grass a hundred meters away. But my eyes were a griffon’s eyes. I once read a book at a similar distance. A large print book, but still... It took me almost no time to find the fire. The bed of glowing coals formed a sort of beacon in the pre-dawn light. That wasn’t a poetic metaphor either. The fire was literally there to attract people to it. Because it sat in the center of a ring of large wooden wagons, and had been shaped so a small arrow of embers pointed to each wagon. An aerial welcome mat. But for what? I took another look at the wagons, the dim light hid much of the detail from view. I was able to see that many of the wagons had canvas awnings set up on one side, much like a market stall. This impression was greatly aided by the camp’s griffons moving about, prettying up their camp and serving a quick breakfast. “Ah ha!” I exclaimed softly, rolling my shoulders and tucking in my wings in order to plunge into a dive. The ground rushed up towards me as I sped back to Earth, snapping my wings open and twisting mid-air to kill my speed and glide safely back into the river bed a short distance from everypony else. “It’s a small traveling market, they are setting up shop for the day a few hundred meters further down the riverbed on the left hoof bank,” I reported. Blade’s ears perked with interest. “Wooden wagons? Central campfire shaped like a spoked wheel?” She asked. “Well, no. The fire’s shape is more like a circle with spokes coming out, like if you took the outer ring off a wagon wheel,” I corrected. Blade smiled. “Ah! The Brodyaga,” she said turning to start walking down the river bed towards the camp. “We’re going to drop in for a few minutes. I normally only see them once a year when they come up through my territory, and they always have valuable intel.” “Is that safe?” Repose asked for me. “Perfectly,” Blade replied. “They are a nomadic clan that’s not aligned with the High King or any particular warlord. Other nomad clans might sell the fact they saw us to someone, but the Brodyaga and I have a few deals in play. “Just keep close to me until they spot us. They’re sure to recognize me on sight.” Not sure if I should trust her word that visiting this camp would be ‘perfectly’ safe, but not wanting to be distrustful, I followed closely behind the warrior mare as she walked confidently towards the camp in the middle of the riverbank. It took less time than I’d expected before two griffons dressed in brightly colored red, blue and orange cloaks calmly stepped out from guard posts hidden in the sides of the riverbanks. If I hadn’t been watching for guards, they might have seemed to simply appear from nowhere instead of from behind cleverly arranged rubble, snow drifts, and dead brush. The one on the left resembled a sparrow, and his friend had the black shimmering feathers of a raven. I couldn’t help but notice the pair’s cloaks hid their weapons. Older rifles from the looks of the slight bumps in the cloth. “G’day!” Blade called to the two guards before they could say a word. “Your Majesty,” both griffons replied, giving her a slight dip of the head each. Clearly surprised to see her. “What brings you to this part of the world in winter’s firm grip?” The guard on the right asked. “Just help’n a friend by take’n a job off his plate,” Bladestorm replied. “Are you set up for business today or is this just a trailside stop?” “We’ve set up to sell our wares, Ma’am,” the raven feathered griffon answered politely. “There is a small village with a fort a half hours walk from here, and they do know we have made our camp here. We’re expecting a good gathering of buyers and sellers after sun up.” “I believe you’ll have time to conduct business of your own before any of your enemies arrive, Ma'am,” the other guard added. “Great! Enjoy’n the new rifles? Would your Chief like another few crates?” Bladestorm asked equally casually. “It’s not like my ponies can get a hoof into those tiny trigger guards.” The two guards laughed, flashing her a smile. “He’ll tell you what he finds fair today. Head on in, Your Highness. But don’t linger over long. We are expecting some soldiers today,” the guard said, repeating his warning. Blade nodded. “Not too worry, I won't make ya need to do extra laundry today. Come on, we're heading in.” Blade began to walk towards the sloped ramp-like section of riverbank which led to the camp, Repose and Fell walking past me to follow her. I was just a little weary of walking into a griffon camp, I had no frame of reference for how I would be treated by this half of my hera- “Hey, miss,” one of the guards said giving me a concerned look. “It’s alright, you can go in.” “Right, thank you, just… Lost in thought,” I replied. Hoping my accent wasn’t too irritating. I didn’t want to have to go through what my mom did and win respect through punches. “You should visit Valeria’s wagon,” the other guard called after me as I started walking. “Every young hen deserves a nice bauble or two. That necklace would look better with some silver bangles!” They thought I was pretty? Huh, well damn. Or were they just marketing goods to me? Dismissing the warm tingly feeling I followed my comrades into the camp. The last few minutes had made quite the difference in terms of light. The sun was just starting to peek over the horizon now providing just enough light to make out how beautiful the camp was. I’d expected a riot of colors, like something out of a fantasy novel. Instead, all of the wagons shared the same palate of dark green, lighter oak, black, and brown. Despite this, each one was painted in a different way, and decorated with unique carvings. They looked like an older classical era timber house had been shrunk down and stuck on wheels. Including in terms of age, though they were very clearly well kept and maintained. Aside from the wagons, there were also tents scattered about. Large pavilions which I was certain were shops. Smaller ones for sleeping and perhaps eating in. All of the tents shared colors as well, darker creams, blues, grays, and reds. The colors reminded me of regimental colors in the way they were used. Identifying the clan you belonged to must be important for a griffon. Especially since all of them had the same thick wool cloaks as the guards, but with the colors arranged differently. As I caught up with the Queen, several griffons turned and looked, immediately offering a small nod-like bow, a smile, and in one case a delighted cry of, “Hey everyone! The Queen’s dropped by!” The Camp didn’t drop what they were doing and go full ‘celebrity sighted’ mode like I expected them too. Instead, many of the griffons who were setting up their stalls vanished into their wagons, retrieving locked chests, or emptying out boxes already on display and removing false bottoms to stock their stalls with scrolls and bundles of letters. Cunning bastards! Within eight seconds a rather fat older griffon with sharp eyes and a kestrel's plumage fought his way through the crowd and offered Blade a medium bow. “Welcome, Your Highness. I didn’t expect to see you again until next summer. For what reason have you sought out my humble flock?” He asked in a sincere but silly voice which bordered on being overly dramatic. “Good to see ya, Chief,” Blade returned, offering a short bow of her own. “I’m just passing through. A friend of mine asked for a helping hoof with these three. I didn’t mean to stumble onto you like this, but well, that’s no reason to not exchange ‘gifts’ with a friend. What’s your flock been up to recently?” The Chief frowned slightly, making my eyes widen in honest surprise. I had no clue that a griffon’s beak could move like that! The frown was very subtle but it was there, a slight warp of the overall structure. Cool! What other expressions can they make? How rude would it be to ask? “A good deal, as always, is welcome here, Your Highness,” he said politely. “Come, let us keep our words to ourselves. There is no need to endanger your friends with knowledge not meant for them. How about we work some extra value into today’s exchange, and allow them to peruse our wares while we discuss business?” Bladestorm hummed to herself for a moment then nodded. “I think I can do that. Will three crates of ammunition cover two hundred Talons for each of them?” I frowned slightly, unsure as to how much money that was. Prance didn’t trade with the Griffons at all. I’d never had to learn their currency. “Your lovely friend seems disappointed with that amount,” the Chief replied, having noticed my frown. “Come, this is one of the finest marketplaces in the northern Fiefdoms! Your friends deserve a little more consideration than a mere two hundred Talons. “Make it eight crates, and I’ll give them each five hundred Talons in credit.” Blade shook her head. “You know I don’t recover too much. Old No-Tail’s been short changing his troops on ammo. Six crates for four hundred for each of them.” The Chief mused for a few minutes. “Very well. Six it is. But I am certain they could use a little more credit. I’ll grant another four hundred credits for six hundred yards of wool.” “You’re in luck,” Blade exclaimed. “I just secured a fresh source of wool. Done.” Blade reached out with her left hoof to shake the Chief’s talon. “Repose, Fell, Light, you have eight hundred Talons each,” Blade informed. “Pick up anything you think could be useful. Weapons, armor, food, better saddlebags. If you have anything after that, it’s your money, spend it how you’d like. Just tell the merchant that the Queen’s paying for it. “Now then, Chief, let’s sort out the price for anything your flock knows about the usual suspects.” “Happily, Your Highness,” the Chief said sweeping one wing to point at the largest wagon. “It’s a little early for wine, shall we share a bottle of Absinthe while we discuss things?” Blade nodded. “Yes, let's.” The two walked off, leaving us alone with the crowd of griffons. I gulped, expecting them to suddenly attack. Instead, they swarmed around the three of us and launched into elaborately written sales pitches. The three of us backed up into a dense knot, the overlapping incompressible words melding and tangling together in knots my mediocre Griffonese couldn’t hope to untangle. Griffons began to hold up or shove things into our faces. Crossbows, armor pieces, jewelry, warm clothing, canteens, bottles of spirits and liquor. Just as I thought we were about to have a bunch of random junk heaped atop us and then be told we totally bought all of it a golden eagle’s cry split the air. The griffons turned to look towards the campfire at an older griffon male who had unleashed the cry. His pale blue eyes closed sadly as he shook his head in shame. “Friends! Friends! Look at what you’ve done. This is no way to treat a customer. I know the winter is harsh and food scare this year, but we have a whole market ready for today. There is no need to fight for their modest credit,” He called. The crowd of griffons murmured a few apologies and backed off, returning to their stalls or other business. Repose sighed in relief. “Thank the Emperor! I thought they were going to eat me!” He moaned. “You needn't worry,” the old griffin said as he walked over to the three of us. “None of Her Majesty's friends are prey. My name is Makar, please, allow me to help you make your purchases. What is something you want, Master Wizard?” Repose blinked in surprise at the title. “What gives it away?” Makar chuckled. “You can move objects with your mind and conjure light. As far as any griffon is concerned, all unicorns are master wizards. I meant it only as a title of respect, but if you are in fact trained as a wizard, Madam Olga trades in arcane items, there may be something to your liking there.” The three of us exchanged a quick look the nodded in agreement. “Sounds good, lead the way,” Repose asked. Makar lead us around the market camp, stopping at any stall containing whatever we said we might be interested in. Then embellishing the quality of the items as eloquently as possible. The old treacle had a silver tongue that shone more than anypony I’d ever met. He was also one hay of a salespony. Not for me, but for Repose and Fell. Three stalls and their credits were dry. Fell had purchased a bearded axe, an old but serviceable griffonese officer’s helmet which clashed with the rest of his armor thanks to its blocky appearance. But as he said ‘it will keep the not-die from leaking out’. He’d also been a little dumb and blown his last two hundred credits on a piece of goddamn wood! Yeah, fine, sure, rainbow eucalyptus is pretty. Whatever. It’s still a one-meter radius, two-meter high log! Thank goodness his saddlebags had that nifty equestrian storage enchantment to reduce the size and weight of things within the bag. Cuz I sure as hay wasn’t going to carry that for him. Ah well, at least he was excited about making something from that stupid log later. Repose spent his money better in my opinion. He’d been nonplussed with everything until one of the griffons offered to discount an older alchemy kit. Which turned out to be a full kit, not like, just the basic equipment. Everything a master alchemist could want. Fell had happily spent all of his credit on it minutes after opening up the ebony wood case and inspecting its contents. I’d asked him why he paid so much for it. Turns out it was a Zebrican kit, which means top quality and according to Repose, “Assuming my estimates of the value of goods here, It’s worth three times that price. Besides, I’ve never gotten to own modern precision equipment.” As for me, well… I’m a practical mare. Makar pointed out every last jewelry stall in the camp. Pass. Quality tents? No need. Finest sleeping bag in the north? Tempting, but Blade had given me one that was good enough. After a long time, Makar simply shook his head and gave me a smile to try and hide his desperate tone of voice. “Well, miss, that’s about everything we have in our market. If there is nothing you need, and again I must say that you certainly could use some jewelry. It’s unfitting for a friend of our future Queen to not display her status. But, of course, I won't pressure you. “Surely there must be something you want. We have goods and wonders from all nations bordering the Trade Sea. There must be something! Something more for the cold than that scarf and wool lined vest?” Wool lined vest? This was armor! Not clothing. Then again, I had no idea what kind of girls this old guy had been living with. Maybe griffons wore things like this for high altitude flights. If he did, he must not have understood that I was a warrior. “One second,” I said, twisting to reach into my bags. After a few seconds of rummaging through my depleted kit and equipment, I found my beret, took it out and slipped it atop my flight cap. “Ahhh! I see,” Makar said with an understanding nod. “My apologies, I misjudged you. If you are fine on equipment, may I suggest spending your credit line on amusements? The shopkeepers you are buying from are well, they are going to use the extra income on food for the whole flock later on today.” Fell turned to look, hearing Makar’s tone go from casual ‘talking with a young maiden’ to ‘talking with a warrior’ and wondering what caused the change. The changeling’s eyes locked onto my cap and then bugged out of his head. Which made me snort with laughter because well, he’s a bug. It’s funny. “You actually managed to win that thing!?” Fell exclaimed in shock. “What thing?” Repose asked looking up from his new treasure only to sputter. “Bucking- Where in Tartarus is your bow?!” Huh. Well, I guess they did know what the cap meant. My mistake. “They weren't willing to let me take one out of the Empire. I thought it was weird seeing how handy a good sniper could be but well… I think I know why I wasn’t authorized to take one now,” I sighed. “Upside, um... You two didn’t get shot. Um, well, you know. By me. With a six kilo bolt that-” “Explodes! Yeah! I know!” Fell exclaimed in terror. “I saw a few practice drills with-” “Pardon me,” Makar interrupted. “But are you talking about a Prench Marksmare’s Crossbow?” I nodded. “Yes. And I know there's no way you have one.” “I’m well aware they self-destruct,” he replied. “But I’m certain you are aware of the envy many people feel for your nation’s precision weapons. There are many copies of their designs from across the years. Most are junk, however… I happen to have an item which may interest you.” “I used a PGM Hecate III. There’s no substitute for that lovely mare,” I countered. “Oh, I quite agree. I’m an arbalist and gunsmith by trade,” Makar explained. “Or I was. These talons are too old to do proper work anymore. But you are most definitely right, there is no finer traditional crossbow than a Hecate. But I have a nontraditional crossbow which is much the same. Care to see?” “Sure,” I said, my curiosity getting the better of me. Makar led the three of us to the far end of the camp from the entrance to a smaller tent between two wagons. He disappeared into the tent for a few minutes then came out carrying a large steel case. I felt my face scrunch in surprise. I had not expected a metal case in this part of the world. Or even back in Prance really. Our nation wasn’t especially into the ‘industrial’ look, and the griffons here seemed to share Prance’s love of traditional design. Which sucked. Because that case was very elegant. Brushed steel surfaces protected by chrome corners. No rivets, all welds hidden. Ponyfeathers, I kind of wanted to buy the box by itself. Even with the sandblasted and weathered exterior. “This weapon came to us from some griffon traders who ‘acquired’ it in the badlands on a raid into Zebrica,” Makar said, turning the case and opening its two latches with his talons. “I’ve had it for nearly five years, it’s only been fired a few times by myself to ensure it was in working order. They well, they ‘fell off’ a trade caravan.” He opened the case, showing a folding brushed steel, black enamel coated crossbow. The weapon folded up into a storage position and was engineered to be compact, easily carried on the back, then quickly deploy to full size to shoot. It shared the same elegant industrial design as the box, featured a lovely scope, and lots of enchantment components integrated into the weapon alongside technological solutions. “This is a-” Makar began. “A crossbow made for the City-State of Phoenix's Marines Corps,” I interrupted. Makar nodded. “It is. It’s far more valuable than the credit you have available, but I’ve not been able to find a buyer in years since the stock is designed for hooves, which makes it a little unwieldy in talons. I’m certain you know how key a good grip is when using a precision weapon. I doubt there is a griffon who will appreciate the weapon as much as you. I’m willing to part with it for your eight hundred.” I took a step back, eyes widening in surprise. “Um, what did you call me?” “Sorry, would you prefer hen?” Marka asked with a slight frown. “I-I’m not, I’m a halfbreed,” I stammered. “Not to griffons you’re not,” Markar said simply. I stood still for several long moments unsure of what to say. “I know it’s not exactly the same as your old bow,” Makar continued. “But it’s certainly within the same league. Also, the bolts it spawns catch fire when you shoo-” Catch fire? Spawns!? Infinite flame bolt, bow! Gimmie! NEED! “Deal!” I exclaimed, trying to hold back a squee of delight. I failed. “Uh, you don’t wish to see if it works?” Makar asked in concern. “If it doesn't I’ll make it work,” I countered. “I’ll also be very angry.” Makar laughed. “Good thing it works then!” I trusted him. At least, I trusted him to be concerned about pissing off a Marksmare. Besides, I could probably fix whatever was wrong with my new marefriend! Closing the case, he slid it over to me. “Enjoy your weapon, Ma’am. May she serve you well.” “Oh, she will!” I said with an eager grin. I was so going to sight this girl in when we stopped for the night! “Want me to carry that for you?” Fell Offered. “Plenty of room in the bags.” I paused for a few moments then nodded. “Only until I can sight it in and attach a sling to it. So you know, the next time we stop.” Fell chuckled. “I understand. I was the same way with my old weapons. I can keep the case for you until we-” “Pardon me,” an old female voice asked. “Have the three of you spent all your money yet?” The three of us looked up to see an old griffon woman with a bluebird’s plumage looking down at us from a window on the cart to our right. She looked very old, and had the sort of dulled eyes and dimmed feathers which would have made her look old even without being bundled in two different quilts as defense against the relatively warm winter’s day. “I’m afraid so, ma’am,” Repose said. “Oh. I see,” the hen lamented. Makar sighed. “How badly do you need their business, Yana?” He asked. “... I’m sure you know already,” she replied. Makar shut his beak tightly for a moment then let out one long sigh. “If you three want your fortunes told, I’ll pay her fee,” he declared. Fortunes told? How? I wasn’t alone in my questioning. Repose raised an eyebrow before looking up at the old hen. “And just how are you able to tell fortunes?” He asked. Good bucking question. How does a species do that without magic? She was either a charlatan, the world's greatest esthetician, or she had- “I own an augury deck, dearie,” she replied. “I can no more cast a spell than your feathered companion can. But I have years of experience in using my deck’s enchantments to peer into the future. I can provide you with the means to find the answer for any question you have.” Fell hummed. “Well, if anything it would be a way to kill a little time,” he said decisively. True, also the old hen clearly needed the money. Or probably food rather. “Yeah, why not? Could be fun,” I decided. “Hold on one minute,” Repose said holding up one hoof. “Not to be rude ma’am, but I am something of an enchanter myself. I know the questions answerable by an enchanted item are limited. You’re embellishing what-” Yana cackled mischievously. “I make my living as a fortune teller, dearie. I need to attract customers. Yes, you are right. The questions are limited, but few people come to me and ask something the cards can not answer. One moment,” she said before vanishing from the window. A heartbeat later she returned with a wooden box in her talons and opened it, revealing a deck of a few hundred silver cards. “Can you see the truth?” Yana asked. Repose nodded. “Yes, I can. Alright, you do have an authentic augury deck. One about three centuries old and… Germane if the box is any indication. What are its limits?” “The box is Germane, yes, but the cards are Neighponese,” Yana informed in a ‘mystical’ voice. “My cards are old, they have gained a few peculiarities over the years. The most important one is they will only work correctly if three people ask one question of the cards. Each will get their own answer, but all three must truly wish to know the same thing. “The only other one you need be concerned with is how they give you your answer. The answers are a little cryptic, almost like a riddle, but still quite solvable. I assure you, my cards have never been wrong. All who failed to answer the riddle given to them before the event they wished to know of came to pass, learned the answer after the fact. In hindsight their messages are unmistakable.” I frowned. “So we can ask a question, and get a riddle which if we can solve will tell us our answer?” The old hen nodded. “Yes dearie, my cards can point you to the place you wish to be, the person you wish to meet, or the object of your desire. But they can not take you where you wish to go. You must make the journey yourself.” “I think can can handle that,” I mused. “You guys want to try it?” Repose nodded. “Yes, I’m interested to see how the cards work at the least.” Fell nodded too. “It still seems like fun to me.” “But what do we ask?” I prompted, hoping nopony had any ideas other than me. I knew what I wanted to ask. There was only one thing I needed to know right now. Fell shrugged and leaned over to whisper, “I don’t care. I’m just going to feel bad if she goes hungry…” to Repose and I. Repose nodded in understanding. Seizing my chance I said, “We're homeless, broke, and marching across half the continent. I want to know how I can improve my life. I think you two could use an answer to that question too.” Repose nodded immediately. “Yes! That is a good question. Um, ma’am, can your cards answer that?” “Yes, it’s a little vague for them, but they have answered that question several times before. Come into my wagon and I will tell you your fortunes,” she said eagerly, shutting her wagon’s window as she pulled back into her home. “Thanks again for the bow, sir… And for this,” I said to Makar. He nodded. “No problem. Don’t worry, a reading isn’t very much. I’ll be fine” The three of us quickly trotted around the side of the fortune teller’s wagon, then up the steps at the back onto the little almost-a-porch. Before Fell could open the door, Yana opened it herself. “Come in, sit at the table,” she instructed, backing into the cramped and cluttered interior space. The table in question was small, round, and basically filled the entryway. A piece of bright yellow cloth had been hung to make a curtain and divide the wagon into ‘rooms’, with this ‘reading room’ decorated with all manner of fake arcane trappings. Strings of charms, a crystal ball, a few skulls preserved in wax. I only tangentially knew about enchanted items from being around them, and even I could tell this was all for show. Then again, she had admitted she did lure people in for her business's sake. Maybe this fooled griffons who’d never seen anything magical in their lives. Yana took a seat at the far end of the table and set her box of cards down atop the simple hickory plank table top. The three of us gathered around the opposite side, sitting down on the wagon’s floor. Yana picked up the silver cards and began to shuffle them. The cards sparking and glowing slightly as the moved across one another in a way which clearly showed them to have at least a little magical power in them. “Ask your question one after the other, as soon as I stop shuffling,” Yana instructed, stopping mere moments later. “What can I do to improve my life?” Fell asked. “What can I do to improve my life?” I seconded. “What can I do to improve my life?” Repose finished. Yana picked up the deck of cards and quickly began to deal them out. The silver cards were laid out in three grid patterns, three cards across and three down. Nine cards each. Interestingly, the cards had small patterns etched into them which ran across the borders, linking together to form more complex patterns across all nine cards. When the last of the cards had been dealt, Yana put the deck back in the box and pointed to Fell, and then the grid of cards in front of him. “Touch your talon- er, hoof to the centermost card. But only for a moment,” she instructed. Fell nodded and tapped the card. The thin lines immediately shown with dark blue light, projecting a pattern of Neighponese characters into the air. Yana squinted at them for a few moments then nodded in satisfaction. “For a good life, return to your bed and look within. There will you find the path to a happy future,” she intoned, the words vanishing as she read them aloud. Before Fell could say anything she nodded to me, and out of reflex, I tapped the card. My grid flashed with an odd black light. Like something you would see at a fancy party for ponies into DJ P0n3’s music. Yana squinted at the text as it appeared, translating for me. “For a good life, embrace the night beneath the sea of sand. You will find what you have always wanted within the darkness by brightening it,” she intoned. Yana quickly nodded to Repose, who was already in the process of tapping the card. His grid flashed a bright white, but only for a moment. The text simply appearing all in one go, as if the spell had used a lot of energy at once. “Odd…” Yana mused. “Your fortune is less cryptic than I would expect. For a good life, befriend the lavender mage and share your ideas with her. Together you can right a great wrong.” The words vanished, and the cards light faded away to nothing over a few seconds. “There you are. I can not hope to tell you what they mean, except for you Master Wizard. You had better make friends with the next lavender unicorn you meet. I’ve never seen that clear of a prediction from these cards!” She exclaimed. Repose coughed. “I Uh… I recharged the deck,” he said. “What?” Yana asked in confusion. “I noticed it was almost dead when reading Light’s future, so I recharged it. It’s um- Well, it looks like the cryptic nature was a ‘power saving’ feature. Your business will be a bit more practical for people for at least a few months. Oh! You can get a charged mage's gem and rest it atop the deck. That should replenish them if you can't find another unicorn to provide your with mana,” Repose instructed. Yana blinked, broke into a grateful smile and quickly wrapped Repose in a hug. “Thank you young colt! I hope you get the better life you asked for.” Letting go of Repose, she nodded towards the door. “I’ll need to tidy up and change my pitch for today. Tell her Highness I said hello, please,” Yana asked as she ushered us out. “Will do,” I promised as I stepped outside. “Thank you.” As the door shut behind us, I turned and gave Repose an irritated glare. “You could have powered them up sooner!” I accused. Repose blushed, ears drooping in embarrassment. “Um, no. Sorry. I learned how they operated on the first use, understood they were not working right with the second, and only realized they needed more power before touching my own card. I’ll be happy to help you two solve your own riddles… I sort of just fixed them on reflex. I-I’ve been needing something to tinker with.” “Good!” Fell exclaimed. “Because I have no idea what ‘return to your bed and look within’ means.” I tapped a hoof to my chin in thought. “Um… Look inside your bedroll tonight?” I suggested. “Too obvious,” Fell muttered. “Yeah, also it’s probably metaphorical,” I agreed. “Ah! Visited Madam Yana, eh?” Bladestorm asked suddenly stepping out of the crowd of griffons. “Yes,” Repose answered. “Do you know her?” “Excellent use of your money,” Blade praised. “Back when I first came to these lands, I had her tell my fortune for a lark. I asked where I could find someone I could trust with things I had to keep secret from everyone in any position of authority, even my own husband. She found me just the mare to get me oriented and figure out what to do here. I couldn’t exactly pursue my old career choice. “Without her getting me started, I’d probably be dead in a ditch someplace, the entire Taldomen Fiefdom would still be under No-Tail the Dickhead’s rule, and I’d never have given him an insulting nickname that even his allies use now. Heh. Ready to go?” “I sort of promised to help them unravel their riddles,” Repose explained. “You can do that as we march. Cuz we have to move. Their lookouts have non-friendly griffons about ten minutes away. It’s time to go,” Blade said seriously. “Why the buck didn’t you lead with that?!” I demanded. “I wanted you to know that see’n Yana could be the best move you ever made, and it only took twenty seconds to have this conversation. Everypony, march!” Blade ordered, turning and walking towards the camp’s entrance at a swift clip. “You’re helping us puzzle this out,” I said pointing a hoof at Repose firmly before turning to follow our escort. “Start with that ‘sea of sand’ bit.” Because I knew what the ‘what you have always wanted’ part was. There was no way in Tartarus I was going to loose a shot at finding a place I felt I belonged in.