Silver Skies

by Ayin


Icy Abyss: Chapter 6

Icy Abyss

Chapter 6

~~~

The low murmurs, boisterous laughs, and serious gossip droned on at the end meal as the camp slowly started the day. The most eager campers devoured their meals and collapsed their tents and stuffed their bags full of the belongings while they chattered about family, friends and hobbies. But breakfast was silent for Trixie.

The noise and clatter went unheard for her; every encounter of the previous day drove her into angry contemplation. She grumbled, “Annoying city kids. Thinking they know anything about traveling. Nothing more than a circus.”

Her slumped stature and brooding was glossed over by most of the camp; all the other ponies but a bearded pegasus and almond coated colt were sloppily stuffing their sacks and tearing down their tents; these two had finished and instead concerned themselves with the sullen unicorn.

Sky Swirl spoke first and nodded in approval. “You seem much more prepared for travel than I thought. You almost packed faster than me.” He chuckled. “Maybe age is getting the best of me.”

It took Featherfoot a moment to comprehend the complement—contemplation took all his concentration. He unrequitedly glanced at Trixie between every belt he tightened and sentence he spoke. “Oh. Yeah. I just … wanted to get a chance to talk but don’t really know what to say.” He pulled tight the last strap and plopped down on the pile, surrendering to his worries. He used the largest as a pillow.

His elder joked, “Well, I know I’m quite fascinating and an enigma that the fillies flock to.” He saw no change in the sad pile of earth pony and traveling gear. “But I suppose you didn’t mean to talk to me.” Sky sat next to his young companion. “When somepony is in a bad mood, a friend can cheer them up.”

Featherfoot said dejectedly, “I just don’t know. She was fine. Now she’s mad. I don’t get it! We didn’t even fight. She just ignored me.” He emptied his lungs and hung his head. “I’m such a bad friend; I didn’t even ask what’s wrong.”

The mentor minded pony offered words of comfort. “Kiddo, a bad friend wouldn’t worry at all. Just give her time. She’ll be fine in a bit.”

The younger raised his head off his makeshift pillow and stopped pouting. “Think so? But I did nothing!”

Sky said excitedly, “Of course I think so! Just because you don’t know what to say doesn’t make you a bad friend.”

An emotionless voice agreed. “Yes. A bad friend would rather wallow than help.” The horned silhouette blocked the sun.

The elder pegasus greeted, “Ah, good morning, Solaris. I see you are ready to go as well.” The unicorn’s lone bag was dwarfed in number and in size by the satchels that formed the temporary couch of wallowing for the colt.

She slightly dipped her head. “Yes, Sir Swirl. I am prepared to leave.”

The elder protested, “Please just call me Sky. All this ‘Sir Swirl’ nonsense will make me feel too old to go venturing.” His playful scowl faded as his beard lifted and muzzle bent sagely. “But it’s nice to see you two young’uns so ready to head out. Reminds me of Red and myself,” he flared his wings and pointed with them towards the rising sun behind the mountainside, “Inseparably ready for danger!”

He roared with mirthful laughter and startled Featherfoot with a feathery pat on the back. “Speaking of Red, he seems to need some help.” He trotted off to the other half of the encampment and shouted, “Don’t forget about your friends now.”

The pair remained quiet. Solaris only wanted to leave and finish the trip for another prospect awaited the end; Featherfoot didn’t know quiet very well. He said plainly,“So, I was wondering.” He was befuddled and wistfully watched the sun laboriously lift itself out from behind the mountains’ protection.

Always quick to the point, she questioned, “Yes, wondering about what?”

He looked at her, mouth open. She said, “Close your mouth and speak or a bug might think it a new home.”

He snapped his mouth shut and reddened. “Ha, I was, umm, just wondering. You know. About ... stuff?” he asked more than stated.

She smirked and said, “Stuff? Do you even have a reason to be out here?”

He beamed and replied, “Nope! Nothing more than to see somewhere new.”

Her expression flatted. “None at all? I see no excitement in that. Or this.” She raised her hoof to walk away.

He didn’t give it the chance to touch the ground. “So why are you here then?”

She stomped down and snapped, “Don’t ask. Ever.” Her terrifying gaze and towering stature dwarfed the crestfallen colt, despite him being taller and having more gear.

He averted her gaze and drew circles in the grass. “You asked first.”

She stepped closer and the gleam left her eyes as they grew smaller. “I said don’t ask.”

He perked up. “So? I told you why I’m here. You can at least do the same. It’s not fair!”

Her chest heaved as she struggled with her temper. “Life. Isn’t. Fair. You know what else isn’t fair?” She inhaled sharply but never broke her level tone. “Perfect scores but still not getting into Canterlot University. That. Isn’t. Fair.” Her horn flickered. Nothing happened except a failed attempt by Featherfoot to barely hide under his shield of sacks.

She started to calm with controlled breathing. She said, “They told me I needed to learn more than magic. Sir Swirl offered—in front of the Princess herself—to teach me what was,” she spat, “’missing and help her emotional instability’. So he dragged me out here.”

The light stopped. Featherfoot could once again hear the ruckus of the readying travelers and the rattling of dying leaves. She walked away. His tongue refused to let an apology free so he gurgled inaudible and instead watched the unicorn walk away.

He sighed and strapped on his bags. His hooves were contradictory to his name as they mashed the blades of grass underhoof on his way to tell Trixie that he had finished packing.

He sighed and spoke. “Hey, Trixie. I’m ready to go. Almost everypony else is too.” He waited for an actual response; the only sound she made was the soft inhale and exhale of autumn air. “Ready to go?”

Her horn glowed pink as it lifted the decorated neckerchief and toss it onto his muzzle. “No, Trixie is not going. She is not your friend, despite what you think constantly giving her that damn cloth means.”

She stood up. He flinched slightly; angering two unicorns was not the way he intended to officially start his trek. She said calmly, “Just because you both will walk the same road for a while doesn’t make her your friend.” She glowered at a certain blue unicorn. “You can make other friends whenever you want.”

She stalked off and ahead of the rest of the group; she’d rather suffer the chance of a conversation with another camper rather than return to anywhere near Las Pegasus. She strolled onto the road, leaving the gloomy colt to follow if he wished. And he did.

~~~

Midday sun had struck the middle cord of the sky. The sharp gales plucked warmth from furs and rattled every leaf as the merry band drummed with their march on the roots below. Trixie hastened her tempo. She did not want to hear the noisy crew a lengthy measure behind her.

Red Stone spent the majority of the day’s travel discussing and lecturing the various members on safely and the wilderness. He always prepared. He had one last young and overburdened colt to converse with, but he went to seek counsel from his oldest friend first. He asked, “Sky, what do you think? About-”

The bearded one joked, “-the weather? Fantastic! The brisk chill makes me feel young.”

The earth pony grinned. “Yes. It is excellent hiking weather. However,” he nodded at the almond coated pony, “I haven’t had a chance to talk with one pony in particular.” He conceded, “I know I said he would rather stay. But he did beat you to packing on his own and you’ve taken a shine to him.” He looked past the colt and settled on the azure mare. “And the young miss he arrived with seems to know her way. Don’t think she intended to travel with us. Any thoughts? I know you have some.” They chuckled on the last remark.

The pegasus answered, “Yes. I think that you should go talk to him yourself. It’s lunch time anyway. And I am hungry.” With that said he stretched his wings and dramatically dared to fly a few hooves above the ground. He announced, “Friends, we shall break for lunch here. Find a spot and don’t stray off. Dangerous woodlands are nearby and it’s easy to get lost.”

The ponies assembled into a sloppy circle and the travelers wasted no time to resume their chatter—except for Featherfoot. He sat alone. The grass seemed to lean away from the lone pony as if to give him extra room to sulk. He was even too tired to sigh.

Red Stone chewed through his daffodil sandwich as he watched the edge of the blue leaved woods. He noted the small shadow dart back into the canopy and concluded that it should be no worry; they will go around the woods as planned. He finished the last bite of the lunch and set out to finish the last task for the day. The colt was alone. Alone was good for talking.

Red sauntered to the sad mound of shaggy hair and untightened satchels and asked, “Have a moment, sonny?”

Featherfoot lifted his heavy head. “Yes, Sir, I do.” He sorely stood.

Red said, “So, my colleague and I were wondering about the young mare who accompanied you yesterday.”

Featherfoot stole a glance at the pony of topic and sighed. “Her name’s Trixie … and I don’t think she’s traveling much more with us. She said we aren’t friends.” He slumped onto his haunches and packed away the neckerchief. “She meant it.”

“Ah. Well,” Red nodded knowingly, “my initial impression was wrong. About the both of you. She seemed like a friend. And you didn’t look ready to head out yet.” He offered a hoofshake. “Sky thinks you should come with us. If he does, I do too. Congrat’s.”

They shook but Red easily picked up the doubt under the pleased façade and nervous rubbing of the ankle and the adorned strap. “So, when the others will head back, you can choose to go either way. We won’t make you do anything you don’t want to.” He patted the colt on the back and headed back to join the noisy pair of the off-key pegasus and melodic zebra singing old tunes in Middle Equestrian.

~~~

Passing Red on his return to the circle, Solaris pressed forward. Every step ahead was one less step left between her and the chance to read in the archives of magic or learn from the sage teachers or research a new spell. She glimpsed back. No pony wants to leave yet, she thought. Wonderful. She stomped up the lazy slope and under the nearly emptied fruit tree and waited; the others still had yet to move onward. Her magic unlatched the small shoulder bag and they both flopped on the grass. I can wait. And she did. She counted seven red leaves and three yellows stolen from the tree by the breeze.

Then a pear thumped onto the ground. Patience is a virtue? Well I’m sick of waiting, she thought. Her impatient legs forced her into a lazy canter, not caring where they took the unicorn and eagerly stood atop the hill. She eyed the unusual treeline that blurred into the almost matching skyline and gazed across the green plains that enclosed the forest. And then she spotted another unicorn—Trixie.

The showmare was sitting alone on side of the road with a pile wild blueberries and the emptied bush providing her paltry shade. She launched an object blindly over her shoulder and unknowingly up the hill towards Solaris. Trixie resumed her meal.
 
Solaris picked it up. The hoofband was white with a small patch of red that pointed directly behind even though she rotated it. She recognized the spell; some dowser spells were transformed to track even waterless objects if the unicorn was skilled enough. She wasn’t sure of what it pointed to or how a stage magician made one. She was curious.
 
The lunching pony’s muzzle puckered after consuming a hoof-full of the wild fruit. A snide monotone broke the silence. “Those berries could poisonous. Quite like your attitude.” She tossed the band at her hooves and smirked. “Feeling left out? Or did you decide we aren’t worth your time?”
 
Trixie stood. “You know,” she stepped closer and grinned, “blueberries aren’t ‘poisonous’. Only some sheltered city girl would think otherwise.”
 
The two started to encircle each other and the Solaris retorted, “Better than being some talentless hack. Where’d you learn magic?” she enveloped herself in a sapphire radiance then flashed white and reappeared behind the other mare, “From foalschool?”
 
The flash of light dazed Trixie and stunned her senses for a moment. Trixie snapped around. “How precious. Another magical brute. No grace. If you’re here, what happened? Too good for another few years of studying? Figure it all out?” she looked over the other mare and caught the anger in her eyes, “Trixie doubts you’ve even left your house before.” The fury left. Trixie lost her mark but easily picked up on the irritated stance.
 
Solaris parried, “No, I haven’t traveled. But I know actual magic. Not the second rate illusions that some second rate showmare with a pathetic show personality would study.” She blinked behind Trixie again and teased, “They probably wouldn’t even allow you to apply to a school. No pony wants you here. No pony wants your type anywhere. You can’t even make friends with these imbeciles.”
 
Trixie turn once more and locked into a glare, stomping on the cloth anklet. The showmare asked, “If you know so much about school, why are you out here parading across Equestria with a circus act? What happened?” Solaris’ horn shimmered and teeth ground as she enveloped her opponent with her blue aura. Trixie taunted, “Dropped out? Get kicked out for bad grades? Trixie earned her skills. You have all the strength in the world but no grace or sense to even stay in sch-”
 
Solaris pinched her eyes shut and screamed, “Quiet!” and the blue aura around the showmare exploded in white. She creaked open her eyes. The showmare, shrub, and pile of sour berries all disappeared along with the plot of grass and dirt that they stood on.
 

~~~

An azure horn poked out from under the upturned earth while it pierced a leaf from an unfortunate blueberry bush. A pink film coated a large chunk of dirt and tossed it a few feet away, taking a mostly white hoofband with it. Trixie poked out her head and inhaled desperately as more soil rolled down the small mound.

She slowly wiggled free. The unicorn whisked away the topsoil buried into her mane and tried to see her surroundings. She lit her horn and limped down the mound but failed to see past a pace ahead; her legs were a haunting purple hue. The mare barely remembered an argument, a white light, and a pitiful lunch. She saw even less. She stumbled forward with a sharp pain in her shoulder over the solid and grassless forest floor. She stepped on and over a large tree trunk only to slide on the slippery surface and fall.

She smacked onto the ground. The frozen moss cradled her head but left her body to chill on the rough forest floor. She struggled to stand, hitting puddles of ice that stole her legs and balance freely. Then a twig snapped. She looked down and saw nothing underhoof.

Trixie scanned the blue darkness, but only the outline of the fallen trunk was seen. She cautiously stood. The only sound was the small scrape of hooves against the permafrost—even the wind was absent.

She carefully moved forward, weaving through towering trees as new ones materialized every few paces. She diligently advanced over fallen branches and ice patches and occasionally nicked a hoof on a jagged rock. Then she stepped on air.

The pony reeled her hoof back and slowly lowered her horn to see an empty expanse. She calmed her breathing, allowing frigid air soothe her lungs and heart, and took a step back. Another branch snapped.

The crack echoed across the chasm and sent a shiver down her spine while a loosed rocks bounced on the bottom. She felt something scratch her fetlock and checked to see an innocent twig had been crushed underhoof and had tried to tangle itself in her fur. She smiled and laughed; it too echoed across the chasm. The clatter of rolling rocks and the rumbling of shifting earth called back.

She leapt back, expecting the ground to crumble under her, but instead crunched more dead branches upon the cold floor and fell when her back hoof struck ice. The dark gap occasionally shook but it stopped growling. The noise came from behind instead. A drop of thick water splashed her muzzle.

With a soft glow of her horn, Trixie instinctively faced the source of sound and moisture. There were teeth; they were part of a white shape was accompanied by hungry gray eyes and long black claws. Another paw slammed next to her. The muzzle lowered and breathed a frosty gust across her body while the wet nose flared and savored the scent of pony. The teeth parted for a ice shattering roar.

She whimpered and scrambled on her hooves to ineffectually slump away from the towering Ursa Polaris. The mare hastened her retreat from the bear on the impulse of it was coming closer. Then her back hoof felt nothing.

The dangling hoof snapped back to the cliff edge and sent a few crumbs into the shadows below. A dagger of sunlight broke the blue canopy. It bounced off the ice covered trees and glistening mosses and aimed for the eyes. The bear howled. The pony locked its legs as fear gripped her voice and loosed whimpers instead.

The monster swung madly as the foreign light bathed its body and scalded its eyes. It smashed a fallen tree and trembled the earth with pounding while its prey stood motionless on the crumbling cliff.

The shadows returned and poured down like water to the relief of the behemoth. The mare left. It grumbled at a lost meal but found the scent, so it crushed a path along the ridgeline to find an azure snack. Under the remnants of grass and unusually warm topsoil lay an abandoned gift, that’s patch of red pointed out of the trees and into the plains above, away from the monster and shadows within.

 ~~~

Featherfoot lounged on the bedding his bags provided. He tossed another almond in the air and caught it with a delicious crunch that sounded like a scream. His eyes snapped wide and he lifted his head to spot a white bloom fade from behind the hill. He tilted his head back. No other campers seemed to notice the commotion in the distance. His Bonding Band also directed over the hill.

He hopped up and strapped on the shoulder bag. Equipped, he strolled up the hill and spotted a familiar blue pony gawking at a patch of dirt. He anxiously crept up to one of the unicorns he offended today. He gulped. “Hey. I wanted to, umm, apologize. For earlier. I shouldn’t have asked.” The words bounced off the pinned ears of the shaking blue pony.

He nudged her and flinched. Nothing happened. He spoke louder and tapped her shoulder. “Hey, Solaris? I said I’m sorry ‘bout earlier.” He walked around and planted himself firmly on the rather large cater. The bags eclipsed her vision. “Solaris. You okay?”

She stuttered, “I-I’m so-sorry. I-I lost it.” A sprinkle of tears extinguished a lone ember on the edge of the shallow pit. “I’m sorry. So sorry.”

A hoof lifted her chin in comfort. “Hey. No need to cry. We can find what you lost easily.” He laughed. “It’s nothing to cry over. So what was it?”

She blinked her eyes dry. “I lost it. She’s gone.” Her voice cracked and she wrapped her legs around his neck; the hugging and sobbing matted his mane. “It’s my fault. I hurt your friend. I wanted her gone.”

The slower pony asked, “Wait. What? What do you mean ‘I hurt your friend’? Everypony is at the—” the gears in his mind stalled, noisily grinded until the deadlock was released and the machinery sparked back to life, “—where’s Trixie?”

The words stumbled out of the unicorn and her tone waivered. “We fought and she taunted me and I fought back but she called me a drop-out and I...” she still doubted what happened, “think I might have teleported her away. Somehow.” She pleaded with reddened eyes. “Help me. Please? I don’t know where she’s at. And Sir Swirl will be furious and the princess will reject me from—”

A hoof stopped her from talking. Fleetfoot said, “How could you do … I can find her.” He pulled out the Alliance's embroidery and unwrapped the neat folds. A mostly white anklet was inside. “It can find her if she has the other.” His eyes narrowed. “Unless you destroyed it.”

Solaris stared at the object. She snatched it and levitated it out in front of her and scurried the nearby ground for it, muttering as she looked. She explained, “She took it off.” Her lips quivered. “I might have sent it with her.”

Featherfoot took back the article. He said, “I’m going to find her. I still got to apologize.” He lined up with the red mark and lined the path to the forest edge. He jogged a few paces ahead, but the air cracked, and he stopped.

The unicorn blinked in front of him and swiped at the band but missed. She demanded, “I messed this up. I’ll get her.”

He guarded the valuable, but agreed. “Yes, you messed this up. You can come with.” He trotted ahead and called back angrily, “Let’s go Solaris.” The mare reappeared next to him, panting and still leaking tears, but she kept pace. The pair headed for the forest.

~~~

The crumpled mare was weakly breathing. She was nestled into a bedding of frozen moss that padded her fall, injured but safe. The cradle was perched atop a short plateau resting in front of a looming wall of ice. The fortification shuttered.

The usra stomped forward and growled as drops of saliva splashed on puddles of ice, eliciting small sizzles. A voice like a knife whetting on ice rustled from the leaves and echoed from within the frozen halls behind the mare and said, “She. Is. Mine.. A shadow rose above the sleeping mare. The snow white ursa stepped back, ears pinned and teeth bared. And it growled, but returned to the den, wrecking the forest as it went. A single blue leaf flittered down and landed on the mare’s cheek, but a strong gust swept it away. “Mine.”