Troubles Arc
Loress sat in the town square across from Dechaa. The two found themselves… running Essenta’s little company for the time being. They’d been in Silas a week. It had been a week-and-a-half since the night raid on their camp. Feeling she’d grown eyes in the back of her head, Loress didn’t feel much at ease. Everything gave her the shakes.
Things hadn’t been great for their party. Whatever Wilka and Orni had been poisoned by was still knocking them for a loop. Dechaa had been worried; she was still unable to figure out what the poison was. She’d done blood work and managed to isolate whatever it was, but there was no identifying it.
There were ponies around that could probably help her with it, but they were desperate to remain hidden and anonymous if possible. They had no idea, of course, the atrocity Zyra had left at their old camp scared away one of the most feared mercenary/assassination guilds on the continent. So, they remained more than a little cautious.
The two young ones were weak and inactive; their leg muscles had atrophied noticeably. Dechaa spent several hours a day just exercising their bodies, so things wouldn’t seize up. Loress was no healer, but she had been helpful in keeping them moving. It was a very easy thing for her to assist either of them in walking. They were at least getting better.
Loress wished she could say the same about Zyra. Her night terrors and episodes had dwindled to only a few minutes each night. She slept most of the night. She slept many hours each day, as well. When she wasn’t sleeping, she lay in her bed, staring at the wall. Again, Dechaa was unsure what to do for her. It was beyond her knowledge.
There was no denying, even after the initial shock of somepony trying to murder them in their sleep, what Zyra had done was sick… And not the interrogation. That had to happen, as awful as it was. It was the makeshift pyre she left for whatever unfortunate might come across it… or whomever sent the assassins. It was a tremendous lack of prudence, fueled by whatever was going on in the mind of the little mage. Zyra had declared war, and war with some murderers’ guild was not something they could handle.
Dechaa had known Zyra for years. She knew the happy-go-lucky unicorn had a lot of hidden hurts, but not a side like what they’d seen. It wasn’t Zyra… or maybe it was her truest self. One could wrap the mind around it and never figure it out. All she knew was it was a powerful rage that allowed Zyra to do the things she’d done.
Dechaa and Loress tried to put these things out of their minds, but it was hard. Their breakfasts sat before them, growing cold.
“Loress, did Ama go to the forest again?”
Loress poked at her fried potatoes, “Yes. She left at dawn.”
Ama had been spending much of the week out at a logging operation. Loress had trimmed up her mane, tail, and dyed her hair its natural color. Ama didn’t take being holed up well and was happy to get some exercise. Being out there also kept her mind off the troubles they were dealing with. Ama told the foresters she was just a Mazan on her birth journey, had met a party she was traveling with, and was looking to make some money while they were in the area.
There was nothing at all unusual about this; Mazans were uncommon, but not rare, to see, and they needed money just as much as anypony. The foreman, blown away by her power, was gleeful to have her for a time. Dechaa and Loress were glad she had some satisfaction.
Dechaa and Loress worked in a kitchen, which was what they were doing now. Loress may have done something more fitting her strength, but she decided to hide that fact she was a Terran. The potential notoriety was unwanted. Their “boss” had given them a break, explaining their current location.
They’d been worried about leaving their three invalids alone in the cottage they’d been renting. Who knew what Zyra might do? But Wilka and Orni, still weak, could keep an eye on her. They’d set up a system, using a handful of orbs Dechaa managed to enchant, to communicate.
Wilka kept one, as did Dechaa and Ama. Any problem arising could be communicated quickly.
One may notice Essenta hasn't been mentioned much. The reason Loress and Dechaa were sort of running things was their leader was in no shape to do it. It was something they did dwell on, as they might have had a chance to stop it.
Once they’d found a safe place to bunk, Dechaa, Loress, and Ama set about looking for work. They had to keep up appearances as “travelers looking to make some money for their trip”. They were probably the wealthiest ponies in town but had to look like they were getting money from somewhere. A bunch of traveling mares holing up in a cottage together wasn’t terribly odd, if they blended in. And that they did. Regardless, nopony even knew Zyra, Wilka, and Orni were with them. They barely knew Essenta was with them.
Essenta, once settled in, went to a pub, sat down, and never left it. Money wasn’t the concern. Ale was cheap, and even the most destitute pony with a few pieces of silver could drink for a week. And Essenta had plenty of scratch in her pocket: it was hers… not of their coffers. She drank and drank and drank. Loress had tried more than once to pull her away, succeeding in doing so. But the second her back was turned, Essenta would already be back at the barstool, another ale in her hoof.
It got to the point after a day or two of this, Dechaa and Loress gave up. They didn’t want to, but they realized they could do nothing. Essenta was in a deep funk, and it would take some doing to pull her out of it. The knowledge her father, the king, probably sent assassins to kill her friends and ponynap her, had her shaken up. On top of that, one of her oldest friends unleashed her inner demons on one of their attackers. That had been something to see...
Much of the reason was the blood. While Essenta hadn’t directly killed anypony, she surely contributed. Only the second time Ama had ever killed, and the first time Loress had killed, they were all shaken. The stallion Zyra "interviewed" was certainly helped on his way to Hell… But other than Zyra falling off the world’s edge for a time, Essenta was the only one reacting in such a way.
Dechaa, for a couple years, had been toying with the idea Essenta had a drinking problem. Now, she was sure of it, having seen the last week. She wasn't really in denial... it just took a lot of convincing for her to admit to some things. The fact Essenta had a problem was apparent to Loress the first or second night they were in Renata…
They had to do something. Essenta would sit there and literally drink herself to death if allowed. And both of them knew Loress laying into her a bit wouldn't make a difference this time. Essenta was beyond that. But for now, their boss called them back to the kitchen. Planning on looking in on their sodden leader, they would do so once their shift ended.
Essenta stared into the dregs of her mug. She hadn’t been keeping track of the ale she drank, but the old unicorn tending the bar had: she’d had no less than 15 pints a day the entire week. She was his best customer. She had money, didn’t cause much fuss, and was rarely without drink.
He didn’t even kick her out most nights; she’d taken up in the alley and he couldn’t stand to see some young mare out there. She’d just sleep in a booth and start again the next morning. He’d even given her bread and cheese, to have something else in her system. He’d seen ponies on liquid diets, and they didn’t live all that long.
For the second time in her life, and in the last month, no less, Essenta let somepony else besides Dechaa call her “Sen”. The name wasn’t uncommon, and the bartender had to call her something.
Essenta had a moment of clarity; they weren’t happening too often, but a thought entered her mind, “Noach… what day is it?”
The barkeep looked up; it was the first thing his best customer had said all day, other than pointing and grunting at the cask of ale in the corner, “Today’s Saturday, Sen. 9:30 a.m.”
Muddled as her mind had been lately, she was more there than not. She and her initial crew left the Dale on a Sunday. She could still figure it out. She’d been away from the Dale for 41 days… just shy of six weeks.
Essenta opened up her throat, pouring the remainder of her mug straight down her gullet. She’d found a couple days before she could do it, without having to swallow… If only her old friends in the Dale could see their princess now.
Noach grimaced, “It’s awful, seeing a young mare do that… Even some of the most ambitious drunks never achieve that ability, and you’ve figured it out in a single bender!”
Essenta let out a low belch, very guttural in its quality; she tossed another chunk of silver coin on the bar, “Piss up a rope, Noach, and draw me another.”
He did, more and more unwilling to do so as the days had passed. He stood there, watching her. The pub technically wasn’t even open yet. Didn’t open until lunchtime. Yet his new “friend” had been at it for two hours already. He reasoned she hadn’t been sober since… Monday.
The very pretty, but frazzled mare that sat down earlier in the week sure didn’t look so anymore. She had faded fast, now with bags under her eyes and a rank odor about her. Noach recalled her two friends that had ceased to show up. They were very beautiful, the black-haired mare astonishingly so, and his supposed tenant looked even more hellish alongside them. He found he missed them, watching his little visitor falling apart… He’d never seen such gorgeous mares in his life.
Putting a small loaf of rye bread and grapes in front of Essenta, she mumbled her thanks and scarfed it all down, quickly returning to the ale. She took occasional hits, murmuring to herself and nodding off occasionally.
After a time, she got up and paddled to the outhouse he kept out back. She’d literally been going like a horse. Watching the mare weave across the floor had him wondering why he kept a bar. Certainly, he made his money off such ponies; selling alcohol was his means to live. But he’d seen so many ruin or continue to ruin their lives sucking down the tasty, tasty poison he made and/or supplied.
Noach had been thinking for the last couple days, and he decided it was high time for him to have a serious chat with the erstwhile pretty mare. He knew what he needed for… an effective talk.
Essenta sat back down. Noach stood across from her. She looked up at him, noticing him after a bit.
“What is it, Noach? Did I manage to shit on my forehead or something?”
He was unamused, “My dear, I think you should get back to your friends already.”
She glowered at him, her bloodshot eyes wobbling, “How many times are you gonna say that today? I don’t wanna…”
He pulled her mug away from her.
“C’mon… I paid you for that and it’s only half-empty!” Essenta hooved her way across the bar top to retrieve the precious amber fluid.
He came down to her eye-level and stared right at her, “I think you have other things to do than sit around here, Princess Essenta.”
The little switch in her head, that hadn’t gone off in a while, popped. She did it without even thinking. She dragged him over the bar, pinning Noach to the floor, pulling out her dirk she’d not parted with for the last seven days. She applied pressure to Noach’s neck. Her brother Abetelles had showed her; a unicorn’s magic would fall off when the spot was pressed. She hadn’t forgotten, and had plenty of practice when her moronic brother, Durenes, acted up.
Brandishing the dirk between her teeth, choking him with her free hoof, “Explain yourself. I may have been drunk the last six days, but I never told you who I really was. Who in the blue fuck are you?! How do you know who I am?!”
Noach grimaced and choked, unable to talk. He feebly pointed to his horn, sending out a couple harmless sparks. Essenta was furious; he’d been reading her mind! It was a rare gift, even among the highest tier of unicorns. The fact Dechaa had a strong grasp on magical empathy was amazing, but an actual, factual, fucking psychic?!
She glowered at him, “I’m going to release your throat… You have about ten seconds to explain yourself. Call out for help and I’ll show you your own heart!”
Having been released, Noach gasped, “It’ll take longer than that. Please hear me out.”
Essenta eased up but maintained the pressure point. She investigated him. She wasn’t as perceptive as Dechaa, but something deep down told her to trust him.
“…I’m going to let you up. We will talk. But if you do anything funny, just know that you’ll leave your share of blood on the floor…”
He relaxed a little, “Agreed.”
He wasn’t about to “give his word”; she didn’t want to hear it, he could tell. She let him up and he went back to his side of the bar. He hoofed Essenta’s pint back to her, but she nudged it away. It was clear she was ready to discuss things.
She looked at him, with more clarity than not, “I really hate when ponies read my mind…”
“I’m… sorry. Even if I don’t mean to, I can’t help it sometimes… especially when somepony’s under my roof for a week. Your thoughts are… rather ‘loud’, Princess.”
“Just keep calling me ‘Sen’.”
He attempted a little smile, “As your dear old friend, Dechaa, does.”
Her eyes flared, “Let’s just talk… I don’t know everything you’ve seen… or… ‘heard’, but what’s your game? Why bring it up if you knew I’d just probably try to kill you?”
He looked sad, “Sen… you may have sent an enemy to his doom, but you’re no killer. You and your friends are torn up inside…”
“What do you know…? Of course… It doesn’t take you long to see things, does it?”
“No, Sen. But it does take a while to see a bigger picture. I’ve not been able to see anything you haven’t been reflecting heavily upon.”
She couldn’t help but sneer at him, “And what do my friends have cooking in their heads?”
“They’re sad, Sen… They’re worried about your little mage… and the two young ones. They’re also very worried for you.”
This did strike Essenta, but only a little; she was still rather numb, “Please… tell me what your game is… Tell me who you are.”
“Fine. I’m Noach. Before running this pub, I was a healer in the Joeh Army… You no doubt know of that…”
Essenta felt sick, suddenly, “You… you’re from Joeh?”
“Yes, Sen… And I don’t need to remind you of what that might entail. You don’t need to dwell on it anymore than you have. Your father’s sins are not yours. I can say the same of the ‘Fire Breathers’. None of it is your fault; don't blame yourself.”
Essenta couldn’t help herself. Thinking about the last big war, the casualties, what her father had probably done, and all the horrible pieces were fitting together. She wept. Noach put a hoof on hers, patting it. He gave her a mug of water. She eagerly took it, thankful for a drink of something else.
“After that awful experience… trying to help ponies during the border raids, I quit. I couldn’t take it anymore. Your friend, Dechaa, can feel things, faintly. I can feel, hear, and see things. It was the most horrible thing imaginable and there was no escaping it. It was all around. But I couldn’t turn my back on ponies in need. So, I opened this place.”
Essenta gawped. Open a pub to help ponies. Horseshit.
Noach couldn’t help but grin a little, “No horseshit, Sen… Ponies often seek out such places when they are in need. It may not be ideal, but they do come here. You’re not the first pony, not by a stretch, I’ve spoken to in such a way. Usually, I just give them advice, or steer them where it may be best for them, but… sometimes I’m straight about it. Sometimes ponies need to know. You and your friends need help. What you girls went through last week…”
Essenta, trying to dry her tears, cried, “But why? Why help us? And why wait an entire week to bring it up?!”
Noach shook his head, “Truly, I don’t know. I… just like to help. It’s probably that I’ve… seen and heard the worst of what this world has to offer us. I… can deal with it. But if I can save others from their suffering, or at least ease their pain, then it gives some meaning to this miserable gift I have. And I feel better when I know I can make a difference. As far as waiting… I felt, this morning, you were finally ready to hear it.”
Essenta sniffled, still rubbing at her eyes, “I’m a mess, Noach… I don’t even know where to begin…”
Noach patted her hoof, “Sen, you have things pretty well figured out. There’s not much I can help you with. You’re stronger than you think you are. Your friends still seek to follow you, and they haven’t given up on you. Just… ease up on the booze, some. But your friends need help… especially your mage. I think I can help your young ones, too.”
Essenta wasn’t sure. Sure, she was desperate, but…
He smiled at her, “Please, Sen. Trust me. I want to help.
Dechaa and Loress were walking to the pub. It was noon, and they’d finished their shift at the kitchen. It might have been futile, but they decided to try to convince Essenta to leave the bar. Perhaps she was sick of it and would come with them just out of boredom. They were wrong on all accounts.
Essenta was still at the bar, and she still wasn’t sober, but she had a clarity they hadn’t seen all week. She had bathed and put on a fresh tunic. Her eyes, tired and bloodshot, had regained much of their confidence.
Noach watched Essenta approach her friends, both smelling of baking bread and old dishwater, and apologize. He was glad to see Essenta had cleaned herself up. She looked every bit the pretty princess he’d first met, if less frazzled.
“Girls… I’m sorry. I’ve been stupid all week and nopony needed that. But I’ve had enough sitting around. I think… there’s a way to help Zyra… maybe Wilka and Orni as well.”
Still a little surprised at finding their leader in a better place, but alarmed she was using their real names, Loress was more than a little skeptical, “What are you talking about, ‘Sen’? Are you still that drunk?”
Dechaa could read between the lines, “The jig’s up, Loress. Something tells me it has something to do with the bartender.”
Noach smiled; Dechaa was rather perceptive, “I’ve been talking with… ‘Sen’, and I think I can help you.”
Dechaa was most skeptical, “What’s there to do? Things are such… a mess.”
Essenta came to Noach’s aid, “Dechaa… Noach is a healer… and he’s a… psychic. He wants to help.”
Loress yipped, “A psychic? Those are real?”
Dechaa lowered her gaze, “They are real. My gift of empathy is rare… but his abilities… they’re one in a million. Literally.”
She considered the old unicorn, “Noach. Would you please relax your mind a moment?”
He knew what she wanted to do, “Sure.”
Noach cleared his mind, leaving it to wander. Dechaa let her own mind wander. She certainly couldn’t read his mind, but she could feel his intent. And she found she trusted him, in her heart.
Dechaa, still a little unnerved, “Sen’s right… Loress, we need to trust him.”
Loress did trust Essenta and Dechaa, but this was still a stretch, “If you trust him… I’ll choose to follow… But do you think Ama will be okay with this?”
Essenta wasn’t sure, but she knew the path she and her friends would take, “She will. It’ll take some explaining, but she will. One of you call her up. Have her come back. I’m sure she’s dragged around enough logs for one day.”
Dechaa made ready to call Ama, and the four ponies exited the pub. Noach locked the door, put up a sign saying “closed for the day”, and followed the mares.