Troubles Arc
It was Saturday. The company had moved as far away from that horrible bloodbath they left behind three days previously, as was possible. Moving as quickly, and as often, as they deemed safe, they'd covered almost 200 miles in about 60 hours... and less than 10 of that was spent resting. That's a good pace if you've never used your hooves. They’d slept little, those that managed to escape the worst of the damage they’d endured.
Zyra was in a near catatonic state, even after nearly three days. Dechaa had to feed her, which Zyra didn’t refuse, but didn’t really cooperate either. At night, she now had nightmares and terrors, infrequent for most of the trip, continuously. Dechaa tended to her as best as she could, as she was the only one who seemed able to soothe her. She was only able to sleep while Zyra was awake. Not only would the noise possibly give away their already poorly concealed position... the noise was wearing on the girls' minds. They were scared... as if running in darkness.
Wilka and Orni would take more than a couple days to recover. There wasn’t really anything Dechaa could do for them. It was a slow poison to force through their systems. About all they could do was eat and sleep, even after the toxins had apparently been expelled. It was unlike anything Dechaa had seen before, having tried to isolate whatever it was. She succeeded, but it was a poor sample. If they’d not left the campsite in such a hurry, she’d have had mind to check the stallions’ supplies, if only to know what they were dealing with. But leaving that Hell on Earth behind them seemed more pressing at the time… She'd just about clocked out anyway, assisting Zyra and Ama.
With Zyra, Wilka, and Orni out of commission, riding on the wagon, only Essenta, Dechaa, Ama, and Loress were able to keep watch on things. And Dechaa spent most of the day sleeping; there was no other way for her to keep up her strength. They needed her able to cast protection spells at night. Even with Zyra’s best spells, those three stallions made their way into camp easily. They'd decided that three of them would be awake at all times. And with only four of them able to do anything, it was getting more difficult as the hours passed.
They were becoming exhausted. The one saving grace was the lightening charm on the wagon was holding. Essenta, Ama, and Loress took turns pulling it, causing no extra fatigue. Low on food, they had to get to a town. There they could rest in relative safety and replenish their supplies. Autumn was making its presence known, even as far south as they were. Unfamiliar flora dominated the landscape, but wild fruit was illusive.
Essenta's thoughts were hounded by her apparent failure. Wilka and Orni, the town sweethearts of Renata, whom she promised to look out for, were barely able to move on their own... Zyra, her friend for a decade, had tumbled off the edge of sanity for a time. Their mostly carefree trip had taken an awful turn.
That night, they stopped at what was apparently an abandoned quarry, unused for many decades. Hoping to make it a little further down the road, they couldn't go any farther. They'd go crazy or start dropping in the open if they didn't stop and rest. They found a cave, which led to a silver mine. Briefly exploring the cave and its system, they found themselves alone. Essenta and Ama quickly gathered firewood, while Loress set up camp. Dechaa put up protection spells to the outside, and to the inside of their chosen site.
Within an hour, they were settled in. Essenta and Loress were consulting a map by firelight, while Ama made a soup with their dwindling rations, thickened by some cress found in a weedy patch. Dechaa set about to doing what she could for their newest members and steeled herself for another night with Zyra. At least she could tend to Zyra on solid ground; the incessant jostle of the wagon could still be felt in her body.
According to the map, they were only 30 miles from the next town. And it was no small town. Silas was a trading hub, with many inns, landmarks, and restaurants. If the girls were in better spirits, it would have been a fun visit. Now it was a necessity. They had to rest. They needed shelter. They needed a few days of relative safety to ease their frazzled nerves. The cave was the best thing they’d stay in or around since Renata, and the only real stop since the attack, but did little to set them to peace. That night, of course, they would discuss the attack again. It would be the third night in a row, reliving that awful mess. That's what their "resting" consisted of... misery and worry. At least they'd get more sleep that night.
While Dechaa fed their patients, the rest sat around the fire they’d built. They wished to help Dechaa, but her magic was an aid, while their clumsy hooves were a hindrance. Essenta sat, slowly eating her soup; it tasted like ashes in her mouth… She felt… foolish. This really was a fool’s errand. A few days before, they’d been having a lovely time, fresh off meeting new friends. And now…
She looked over to Zyra, not looking forward to whatever may happen when she finally came to her senses. She felt a hoof on her shoulder. It was Loress. The Terran gave a sympathetic look, but one of unmistakable firmness. Don’t dwell on that, right now… there are other things to be concerned with…
Finishing their dinner, and cleaning up, Dechaa joined them, having put the others to bed.
Essenta sighed, feeling her meal sit unhappily, “Okay… if we leave at dawn, we should be able to make the next town by midday, even at a slow go. Once we’re there, we can hole up somewhere for a few days. Maybe then, things will be a little clearer.”
This was about the best news they could hope for. Loress sat sadly, not wanting to start in on the discussion, but wanting to get it over with.
“Dechaa… what else do you know about these ‘Fire Breathers’?”
Dechaa rubbed her temples, “Not much else other than what I said. They were a mercenary band that largely disappeared about seven years ago. I say largely, because they still make their presence known. Nopony knows who… or what leads them, but he’s said to be a monster. He disappeared nine years ago... soon after the war... They were hired by the Confederation of the Dale for numbers. They... instigated some... pretty awful things.”
Essenta didn’t mean to be an ass, “Yes… But what I want to know, is what the Hell was Zyra writing all that on the rock about? And that ‘pyre’? It was sick. Just sick…”
Dechaa looked most unhappy, “I was able to get something out of Zyra today when she was… suggestible. And it’s something I’d never tell any of you if circumstances didn’t seem as they are. The ‘Fire Breathers’… were the ones that destroyed Zyra’s village.”
Essenta reeled and saw her vision invert. Her skin crawled. Ama and Loress looked grim.
Dechaa went on, “It’s all she said. But it more than explains what she did after we… found out who he was. In the war, it's believed somepony within the Confederation had a vendetta against the village... and it must be who they hired. It's one of the reasons your father was so criticized for... hiring mercenaries. They'd do anything they were paid to do, even... Sen… I don’t know how to help her…”
Ama kneaded Dechaa’s shoulder as the unicorn began to weep. It was a very painful thing for the Dale folk; an ally sent a contingent of their own mercenary forces to wipe out a town within the Confederation of the Valley... some of the very ponies they'd been payed to protect in the first place. Nopony knew which group of mercs it was... Zyra was the only survivor and was either unwilling or unable to relay the information. But she surely remembered now. Loress looked on, wanting to move along. Her normal flappable disposition gave way to her being the strongest voice and spirit in this time.
“We can think about that later. You are doing what you can. But we need to get to the bottom of this. Who sent those stallions after us?”
Essenta sat, feeling sick. She knew who it may have been, but she’d spent the better part of the last three days trying to convince herself otherwise… or at least not think about it. Knowing they had to ease their way into this messy discourse, Ama led.
“The only sure thing we know is it was a job. As far as Dechaa has told us, those so-called mercenaries were not bandits. And they did not function as such. They were far too skilled to be run-of-the-mill robbers. Somepony hired them to kill us.”
Loress desired less beating around the bush, “Were they hired to kill all of us? Or just some of us? The poison they used… it was meant to neutralize, not kill. I can't hold it against Wilka and Orni... what happened to them. It could have been any one of us. We were dealing with... assassins. These stallions knew their business. But they didn’t know what they were getting into. If they’d known anything about us… they’d have known Ama and I weren’t just a couple of tall Earth pony mares. Even if they'd been watching us, somepony gave them bad information… Very bad.”
Loress still wasn’t able to come out and say it.
Dechaa took a crack at it, drying her tears, “The poison, what I could figure out, knocks out anypony with no Terran blood. Your Terran blood saved you. Loress can’t really even get drunk, and Ama takes a lot to even feel it. You’re both good at processing poisons. But that’s not what concerns me. They could have poisoned us outright, with intent to kill. There are plenty of poisons, things I could cook up in a few minutes, that could kill anything that walks or crawls. They were looking for something, or someone. They could have found the thing they wanted, and slit all our throats…”
Essenta grew tired of this; she wanted to just address it, “And who of all ponies would have the desire to take one of us, while killing everypony else?”
The rest stared back at her, knowingly, but with no joy in it. It was a Hell of a thing, stating somepony’s father would do such a thing.
Dechaa treaded carefully, “Sen… we can’t be sure it was… your father who sent them after us.”
Essenta, on the verge of tears for a time, broke, “Oh… I know it was him. And you know it too, Dechaa.”
Essenta didn’t say this lightly. She knew it in her heart, as much as she didn’t want to believe it.
Dechaa tried again, “Sen… I know how it looks, but… to accuse him without hard evidence…”
Essenta wiped her eyes, “You know our history better than me, and I still know this. You said it yourself, just a moment ago... Who hired the ‘Fire Breathers’ during the last war? When the Confederation needed extra soldiers, who did they hire?”
Dechaa knew the answer, as well as anypony, “Your father and his compatriots hired the ‘Fire Breathers’…”
Essenta was pale, “And what did the ‘Fire Breathers’ do in western Joeh? What did they do with my father?”
Dechaa didn’t want to say, “…Rumors tell us-”
“Fuck rumors! My father led 30 stallions there, with the ‘Fire Breathers’ in tow. Four towns were razed. 17… 17! stallions deserted on the way back from Joeh. Seven resigned and left the Dale, along with their families. And the rest killed themselves! Guess how many of them had families? Seven… Don’t you tell me what my father’s capable and not capable of…”
Dechaa had a hard time arguing with this… there was nothing much to say. They had no real proof, but there was no denying the possibility. Dechaa sat miserably. The idea of King Dale condemning Zyra and herself to such an end… along with everypony else? The thought was too much to bear.
For the first time, Essenta thought about never returning home. Nopony had anything else to say that night. They simply sat there, stricken, staring into the fire until they felt like going to sleep, or in Dechaa’s case, keeping an eye on Zyra. Seeing the little mage doze fitfully gave her a window to the miserable night they’d be having together.
Loress volunteered to keep watch first. Ama was already snoring. Essenta lay down, wrapped up in her blanket, as Zyra began to fuss. In about two hours she'd have watch... Ama had the small fortune of getting a full four hours of sleep, on dawn patrol. Covering her head, she wished more than ever she’d just behaved herself and played princess in the Dale. If she’d behaved herself, perhaps she would be then, as she lay in a smelly cave in some far-flung part of the continent, not unhappily married to Prince Askle. Rolling over, she thought it may not have been so bad.
King Dale sat in his study. It had been a good two weeks since he had last spoken with Lord Radulf. Neither of them had known how long Essenta and her friends would stay in that town, but King Dale had given them the go-ahead to strike when they thought appropriate. He’d spent a few hours every night, alone, waiting for news.
His decision to go ahead with things didn’t bother him. He’d made up his mind to bring Essenta home, even if it meant keeping her locked up in secret. The world wouldn’t see her, or her friends again. But he could still sell her off somewhere. Somewhere… Anywhere… Nowhere… He now even contemplated just giving her to Lord Radulf. Nopony would ever hear from her again… Still undecided, his crystal ball glowed. The moment he’d been waiting for two entire weeks arrived.
Lord Radulf appeared in the sphere. He looked… disturbed. King Dale had never seen him even the slightest bit off.
“Aodh… What is it?”
Lord Radulf mumbled, then croaked, “Ansgar… my best agents… they’re all dead.”
King Dale felt a shiver, “What?”
“They’re dead… Your daughter… and her friends… slaughtered them.
This didn’t sound much like Essenta.
“What happened?!”
“We don’t know… They picked up two more ponies, some little Pegasus and an Earth pony, but nopony else, in the town. My stallions staked out, and attacked a few nights ago… We found them this morning. I don’t see how a few Earth ponies, a couple unicorns, and a Pegasus could do this… Whatever’s traveling with your daughter… it took about 30 sleeping darts. The only ponies that can take sleeping darts are… Terrans.”
“So, she has a Terran? I don’t care about some Terran! Get ahold of yourself, Aodh! And tell me what happened.”
Lord Radulf looked back, a stricken look in his eyes, “They… were torn apart… disemboweled… The fire mage… stacked them up on their firepit and left them there! The flame she conjured up… a blue pillar reaching to the sky. I’ve never seen such dark magic.”
King Dale gawked, “Dark magic? What could she have possibly done to scare you?”
“Ansgar… she knows who we are.”
King Dale just about soiled himself, “We? What do you mean…?”
“She… tortured one of my stallions… The fire she left us was a message. It didn’t burn my agents further, but she… set one on fire while he was living! She left us another message. She said she’d kill us all… that there would be no saving us. She signed with… a symbol. ‘Argon’.”
King Dale was confused, “So? You never told your agents why they were doing this. What’s that mean to me?”
“Not you… me. The name Argon rang a bell, but I wasn’t sure until I saw her sign. I saw it, years ago… I destroyed her town… The symbol was above her father’s house…”
“What’s the point of this? How does it concern me?!”
“Your daughter escaped. She… may know you sent us.”
“What?!”
“Look at the pieces, Ansgar.”
King Dale raged, “You will help me sort this out!”
Lord Radulf shook his head, “I will do no such thing. And I will not pursue your daughter any longer. Ansgar… never try to contact me again. Consider any debt I owed you paid. Leave me to my orchards…”
The crystal ball blanked out. It took all of King Dale’s willpower not to cast it against the wall. He needed it yet…
Retiring to his throne, he continued to think. Worst case scenario, she suspected he sent the “Fire Breathers”. But even he knew she had no proof. But he’d sent them there, to kill everypony but her…
Still, what would Essenta do? Come back and slit his throat?
The idea filled him with fear. He knew Lord Radulf wasn’t lying. It took a lot to scare Lord Radulf, and whatever it may have been, King Dale had no idea what it was. Lord Radulf was the most dangerous pony he knew, by far.
King Dale was unsure of many things, but he was sure of one thing. He’d once again underestimated his daughter. She had a Terran along for the ride, and possibly worse, judging by the carnage described. And what was worse than a Terran?
The little voice in his head spoke, a Knollwing… or a dragon.
But the Pegasus with them was no Knollwing. Even if she was, their magic had failed. There was nothing special about them anymore.
So, what in Hell had his daughter found? Was Zyra Argon really capable of what he’d just heard? And where did this leave him? He would turn this over in his mind until sleep took him.