//------------------------------// // Now what? // Story: Deer Me: Adwanee Sands // by The Psychopath //------------------------------// "So what do we do now?" Radivus repeated. Stelimus scratched the back of his head. "Well, we can start walking around...I don't know. It's worked for us so far." He smiled sheepishly. Yolumay facehoofed and groaned in annoyance. "Really? It's not good enough that we have to walk through unknown territory, but now we have to rely on sheer luck because we weren't told what this 'contact' looked like?! I can't believe this." "I can't HELP it if I'm not that good at this whole endeavor yet. I wasn't given proper training for my position, you know." "That doesn't mean you couldn't have asked him--" "Ye," Radivus corrected smugly. Yolumay and Stelimus bent slightly to get a better look at him. Stelimus and Yolumay's eyes were wide open and their lips pursed. The small guard shrunk away and almost buried himself under the sand. "Where were we?" Stelimus asked. "Talking about how you could've asked the zaoris about what the contact looked like." "Ok yeah. That. Well, it slipped my mind. I was kind of stressed at the time, so give me some respite." The discussion went from heated to calm very quickly, and all because of an awkward deer butting in for no real reason. A figure approached the group at the entrance of the city and cleared his throat to grab their attention. "Yes?" Copper asked. "Do you need something?" "Yes. I'm your contact." "...How did you find us?" Stelimus asked. "Well, one, you aren't ponies, and two, you're all bellowing so loud that ancient sultans must have risen up by now." Stelimus rubbed his shoulder in embarrassment. "So, can we go?" "Yes, and take your wagon and your sablysts with you. I do have need for a bit of water." The contact was tall and thin; A detail shared amongst all the Saddle Arabians, at least when it came to average body shapes at birth. To Stelimus, they all looked like horses rather than ponies. Continuing with his observations, Stelimus noticed that the stallion's mane and tail were sprinkled a bit of golden sand that blended rather nicely with the chocolate-brown of both parts of his body. His coat was a mixture of a very dark black, almost vanta, but a pale sheen of green-yellow could be seen in certain angles of the sun. The closely built buildings gave Stelimus an impression of a lack of experience concerning city expansion as every single building he saw so far was either one or two stories tall. No apartment-like complexes to accommodate multiple residents in a smaller area, which Stelimus was certain was going to create areas too large for the local law enforcers to cover, but having so many buildings allowed most of the merchandise to be kept safe and large stocks to be held and sold. The group had to dodge a mare barreling out of a restaurant and cursing at the owner in her native tongue, only to be met with the same verbal abuse. "This place is so different from my 'home' and Niris. There's no open bargaining on these streets. It's like I'm seeing Earth's big cities again." A few large carts were pulled through the streets, scraping against the one used by the 'tourists'. Others were being loaded with crates of various sizes or statues. Humorously, one of the loaders dropped a crate and both his boss and the maker of the damaged goods were having a fight about how the employee was either too clumsy or the box was simply too heavy for him to do on his own. "This place is pretty energetic," Copper commented. "Yes, but the streets aren't as lively as they once ere," the guide lamented. "I remember a time where the most beautiful and most enormous of tapestries and silk dresses were sold here. The sultan himself would come and enjoy the many wares of our own weavers and those abroad, but that sultan is dead, and our new one is too busy trying to uphold the law to promote our traditions." Stelimus nodded in agreement. "I know what that's like," he sighed. "If what the zaoris said is true, I would think so, young king. Eight years on your throne and you still cannot reign in your subjects, if I'm not mistaken." He lifted an eyebrow. "Why does everyone keep TALKING about that?!" The guide gestured his hoof to the king, telling him to calm down. "I am not judging you, young king. I have hear that some things happened in your homeland, thrusting you into a position you were not yet prepared to take." "It wasn't one anyone was supposed to take," Yolumay growled. "Y-yes." "And your naivety coupled by your lack of willing advisors has prevented you from properly maintaining and ensuring your people's well-being." "I wouldn't say that I'm naive, but yes..." The guide looked behind him and glared at the deer. "I hope that you're prepared for your return, because I have heard of tales of young rulers killed by the subjects loyal to their fathers and mothers to secure the throne for themselves. If loyalty is not assured, then there is no true successor." Stelimus and Copper both gulped nervously. Meanwhile, in the tundra, Grimliss was leaning against a black wall crackled by glowing, sky-blue veins. The miasma covering his body flickered and fluttered in imaginary winds whilst he watched his 'show'. He seemed quite bored, however, and he wanted to spice things up a bit. "So are you going to tell me where all the traitors have gone?" he asked. Hanging precariously in the arms of a giant spirit was a heavily beat-up doe, with others, including stags, sitting bloodied and deceased in the corner. The spirit in question's body resembled the upper half of an hourglass with all the connections to limbs having long since been sheared off, a memento shared between them all being a bit of torn cloth. Its floating head was etched with a face devoid of eyes, and a mouth imitating sharp teeth with an empty void of a mouth. As for its four hands, they resembled torn and decayed cloth flowing in the water; Victims for the fish to nibble on. Two of them held the doe's forelegs up and hind legs down, and the other two were fazed into her body, occasionally pretending to pull something out. "Well. It'll be easier on all of us if you cooperate. You will be released back into the city, but you will still be tagged." The doe spat at the god-king who didn't react in the slightest. "You know," he started. "I actually do have all the time in the world to do this, but I have no time to waste. Too many things happening all around for me to miss." The doe coughed. "Just tell me where the others have been, and I'll let you go and even pay for your hospital bill." "I won't...rat them out." Grimliss sighed. "I've already undermined multiple areas where you had all been stashing various weapons with which to overthrow my nephew, and your black market trades are being dismantled by my own guards as we speak." "B-but...I thought they were just bone constructs." The miasma around Grimliss' body flickered actively in response, and the doe understood right away what it meant. "B-but I don't know where they are! I swear!" Grimliss pointed at the dead deer behind the floating spirit. "They said the same thing, and I got quite a few things from them." "So you'll kill me whether I tell you or not!" The god-king shook his head. "I got it from them through other methods." "Then why would you let me go?" "Easy." He looked at the spirit who pulled at something in the deer, hurting and causing her to yell in unfathomable pain with each light tug. "To make you an example. For many others, doing such things would enrage the people and cause them to rise up in arms. If a ruler abuses his people's good will, then they inevitably find their heads going on vacation without their bodies, but I have no such fears. " He snorted. "What fear do I have of death? What reputation do I have to protect?" He approached the deer and jabbed at her chest. "Why would I ignore those intent on acquiring the throne not for the good of their fellow deer, but by cause of greed and jealousy?" "...But he consorts with the pony-song." "And it is for this reason that I would rather sieve through your soul than try asking you for what you know." "W-Wait--" The spirit audibly ripped a transparent, white substance from the deer then tossed her body into the pile behind it. The deer, now a ghostly specter, tried to make sense of her surroundings at first, but when she finally understood what was going on, she started screaming. Grimliss rolled what served as his eyes and audibly grunted. "Yes yes. 'oh no, you killed me!'," he mocked. "I told you to cooperate. No second chances now." After about half an hour 'negotiating' with his 'guest', Grimliss returned to the throne room to see that Princesses Celestia and Luna were waiting with hopeful smiles while the god-king's face remained ever stoic and dead of emotion. "Grimliss. I was worried we wouldn't see you," Celestia said. "I was rather busy with some vital, internal struggles. I had sort of...forgotten about our meeting," he apologized. "I too have some trouble remembering appointments when something important arises," Celestia shared. "I don't think you should worry about that sort of mishap." "I don't worry," Grimliss replied nonchalantly. "Well, shall we discuss what we can do to improve the pony-tundran relationship?" Luna interjected. "I want Stelimus to come back to a better home, and we already mentioned this before, so I have no objections."