//------------------------------// // Chapter 44: Nuinhof // Story: Princess Essenta // by Pone_Heap //------------------------------// Wicked World Arc “Here you go, dear,” a Pegasus waitress donning an outfit not at all unfamiliar to Delia was putting on a rather cheesy smile, setting her order on the table. The former maid looked up from her mulling, “Thanks…” The Pegasus was already on her way again. Delia, having picked a couple pockets, sat in the town square pretending to enjoy—but not needing to pretend—a slice of wildberry pie she’d ordered from the bakery she’d found. It was the first decent baked treat she’d had in a few weeks… She was hungry, sure, but saw no reason not to get something nice. In the four hours since landing there, she’d learned a few things about the city to which Dechaa had suffered—chauffeured—them. Nuinhof was its name and its population sat at about 3,000 ponies. Most residents were Earth ponies, but she saw some unicorns and even fewer Pegasi. Chewing on the crusty goodness she peered around; she wasn’t overly worried about blending in—not in a city of 3,000—and indeed looked the part of some normal Nuinhof mare, in her stolen dress. And she was confident using the term “city” as opposed to “town”; if a place is large enough that not everypony knows each other, that’s “city” enough. Though the girls hadn’t lost track of time, spending more than three weeks in the southern wilderness, none of them were keeping terribly close accounts. It was Sunday and considering the activity Delia thought herself fortunate she’d been able to lay low—especially in the afternoon—and safely stow Dechaa away. It was clear the sugarcane harvest had wrapped up and nopony was apparently working so Delia thought little of leaving their nervous healer in a toolshed whilst she scoped things out. Delia knew southern flora and was beginning to regret slipping Dechaa something to help her sleep… or rather, keep her quiet; it was bad enough Dechaa had messed herself after coming down from a seizure but now she might simply void in her sleep and wake up to a soggy dress. It sucked but Delia had to keep Dechaa out of sight and as safe as possible. The ponies in Nuinhof were guarded, even from their neighbors, it appeared; something was definitely off, and it didn’t take a unicorn or anypony with actual perception to notice. And speaking of unicorns, those she saw looked miserable. It was strongly suspected this had something to do with the terrible vibes that didn’t currently appear to be whipping around. Sipping on a tasty milk-tea, the former floor-scrubber envisioned the jungle and New Salvatrix in her mind. She knew the maps in the mayor’s office—damn-near from memory— that had burned along with the mayoral mansion in “Last Chance” the month before; even so, she yet had no idea where they were within the confines of Salvatrix. Leaning back in her chair, watching ponies in the market purchase goods for their dinner, Delia pondered. She could break into the mayor’s office there—there were almost certainly maps there—or try to eke out the location from somepony. Yawning, Delia recalled her last contact with the girls. Ama and Wilka had made it back to Zyra and Loress just fine, evident by the signal they’d set up. With that security in mind she was able to look for a “safehouse” for Dechaa. Upon finding a spot for Dechaa she verbally contacted the girls. She was happy to hear whatever was bugging the unicorns hadn’t started up again; she hadn’t expected it, considering they’d set up a separate signal for such trouble. Regardless, every hour they’d been tapping “never say die” to one another and knew things were about as peachy as could be. Finishing the pie and downing the last of the tea Delia stood up. The sun, which would begin setting in about an hour was difficult to ignore. However, Nuinhof even had streetlights that ran off gas, so she at least wouldn’t be without light. The reason night was a concern was Ama had decided to rest for the night in the spot from which Dechaa had pulled Delia away. Zyra was sick—though in better shape than their healer, whom Delia was on the way to retrieve—and Loress was feeling a bit on edge. Paddling along, Delia knew things were serious if Essenta had tasked Ama with getting the six of them out of the forest… or those she could. She didn’t at all blame Ama and the princess for this setup… and the possibility of leaving her and Dechaa behind; things were crazy. But Delia was glad to say Essenta and Orni knew Dechaa and herself were at least “safe”. Ama, with reluctance, sent Wilka to the barrier a couple times to convey what was going on in the supposed “magic bubble”. But with dusk approaching the four in the forest would bed down for the night. Essenta and Orni were cut off but the princess had still encouraged Ama to do as she saw fit. And Ama saw fit to seek out their two lost foals in a city yet in a place unknown. Part of Delia’s task was figuring out where they were, enabling the others to better locate the city. It sounded difficult, but it was easy enough to determine direction; the girls had a compass after all and there were landmarks aplenty in the jungle. Delia had determined she’d “find her way” into the city’s records or one of the offices and find a few good maps. With just a little more clarity amongst the divided company finding one another again was feasible and they’d try to do so. It pained Delia to know Ama had knocked the harshest kind of sense into Essenta… entailing the six others “abandoning” her and their healer if need be. Again, Delia felt no hard feelings about the possibility; it hurt, certainly, but no blame could be assigned. She would never expect her new friends to die for her sake—not because they wouldn’t but because she didn’t want them to do so. By the time she reached the shed in which she’d left Dechaa it was quite dusky. Opening the doors and entering she found Dechaa dozing peacefully; the sleep powder had worked about as well as was possible. “Oh, good… I got here in time,” Delia sighed to herself. Dechaa hadn’t gotten sick again or soiled herself so Delia took her outside and encouraged the healer to relieve herself; she felt as if she was enabling some old dog to keep living a little longer… one ready to be put down but nopony having the balls to see the task through. After that, she sat Dechaa down and gave her some water. Dechaa, kind of asleep but pliable enough, could even walk on her own… to a degree. Delia had money and means but had decided against staying at the inn. With whatever was going on, ponies weren’t traveling much and even with what little she’d learned about the city, those passing through were highly suspect of some vague and terrible thing. Delia had simply found a better shed in which to house her friend, close to the city’s government buildings. It would be easier to work from there whilst she plotted how to meet up with everypony again. Leading Dechaa out from the yard, Delia peered around. Ponies were walking quietly and generally trying to avoid one another. Other than families and obvious close friends, ponies seemed positively repelled by others. Cursing her hungry stomach and her careless manner, “blending in” did not include being friendly and ordering pie; nopony else was doing it but she still felt secure enough. Slinging one of Dechaa’s legs over her shoulder, she began to plod to the next hiding spot. She’d seen more than a couple drunk ponies so appearing to help one along wasn’t out of the question. Other ponies were around, and they minded their business; she elected to do the same. About halfway to the city’s headquarters Delia heard a chuckle. “Not from around here, are you, dearie?” Delia had a cooler head than most, especially when it came to sneaking around; she wasn’t alarmed, though maybe she’d blown her cover. Glancing to the side, she beheld an ancient unicorn mare grinning at her; the mare looked as if she’d been around since Old Salvatrix. There were a thousand things Delia could’ve said; seeing the unicorn’s incredible smile she settled on being a smartass, “My, my… Are those your real teeth?” The old mare, sitting against a wall up on the sidewalk, stomped her hooves in a clatter, giggling, “They sure are, young’un… Take care of yourself and they’ll last a lifetime…” “I’ll remember that…” Delia turned away and plodded… Just some old-timer… “You need help, don’t you, Miss?” Delia presently heard the old mare paddling up along behind her. Delia answered coolly, not stopping, “Nah… Just dragging my neighbor home… too much to drink on her day off…” “Enough games… Show me the underside of your front hoof, why don’t you?” came the other’s voice. Delia started at that but didn’t jump; glancing back, still walking… she saw the mare with her own hoof raised. Branded upon the bottom of her hoof was an unmistakable “L”. Delia almost dropped Dechaa; turning around, she breathed, “Lanzo…?!” The old mare wasn’t smiling anymore, “Yes…” Delia raised her own hoof, showing the “M”, “There’s no way I couldn’t recognize it…” Showing genuine alarm, the elderly one blanched, “Melchior?!” Delia nodded; something told her to stay quiet about some of the details… for the time, “I was a maid… and I was skilled in areas needing expertise. That and the fact my father was alive saved me from the fate most with the hoof-brand see.” The old unicorn sighed, “With a stallion such as Melchior you were most fortunate in your lot… avoiding that. You might say I had a more ‘traditional’ life with bearing such a mark… I was 20 when I escaped… It’s been a full 70 years since then… It’s been 59—come spring—that Lanzo and his ilk were run from Penmaenbach. I’d made a life here, though… a better one… so I stayed.” Delia set down Dechaa and faced the approaching mare, “Penmaenbach… It’s little wonder they call the place “Last Chance” City…” Returning Delia’s smile, the old one simpered, “It’s had that moniker for as long as I remember.” “I don’t think half the ponies that make their way through know the real name.” The old mare began to walk, “We can discuss this further, if you like. I’d fully understand if you chose to not trust me, but if the mark on my hoof is enough… then follow me. You’d be safe with me.” Delia eyed her; she wondered what gave her away as a slave… “And if that’s not enough, you and your friends—nearer and farther—would find it in your best interest to leave Salvatrix… tomorrow if possible.” Delia jolted; the old mare knew something, “How…?” The old mare’s horn sparked; she smiled, “Please call me Cassia… Delia.” Delia figured it out. Another psychic…?! Fuck… Essenta and Orni observed the coming night. They’d spent some of the day in sight of the wagon, gathering the few foodstuffs still available; there wasn’t much but they’d managed dinner. To stay off the worry surrounding their current circumstances the two processed the remaining starch they saw come through their stock; they had more than enough flour to see them to “Last Chance” City. Their greater concern—with their food supply—was with the fresh fruit. Much of it wouldn’t be good more than a few days so they reluctantly began to dry out the ripest of the fruit. Hearing Dechaa and Delia were in communication gave the princess the greatest relief she could recall in recent times. Realizing the depth of her responsibility—after all that playing around—had really been quite devastating. Sure, they seemed to spend about as much time in danger as they did out of it but a lot of it never felt real. “Essenta,” Orni had packed away what food they could; she offered Essenta some tea. “Thanks, Orni,” Essenta exhaled; she took a sip. It was delicious! She took another sip. Orni giggled at Essenta’s enjoyment, “I put some of that honey we found in the orange tea Delia slapped together.” Essenta recalled just how pissed off the bees were when Loress accidentally busted open their hive; a “normal” mare might’ve succumbed to the venom, seeing she suffered several hundred stings before escaping. They’d been able to laugh about that… just as they had all run from it, screaming like little fillies back to the savanna, when Loress led them into their midst. Even after the betrayal in the desert it could be said things were looking up… And then the current day just had to happen… Orni, noticing Essenta in thought, put a hoof on her shoulder, “I’m… sorry I fell apart on you…” Essenta patted the offered hoof, “There’s no reason to apologize… This… threw us all for a loop, Orni. Ama… I don’t know what I’d do without her.” Orni tried to not laugh; she had some ideas, “I try not to think about it much…” Essenta morosely continued with her tea. Orni replied to her silence, “I think… it was the right call, giving Ama the reigns out there. Loress… has a lot of knowledge but a stouter heart is needed right now.” “I know…” Essenta smacked her lips at the sticky sweetness. “I just can’t help but think of how long this might take…” Orni shuffled her hooves, “Don’t fret over that. We’ll just keep doing what we can. If we have to dry out the rest of the fruit… then so be it.” Essenta laughed a little at that, recognizing Orni’s latest sentence to be a half-joke, “If fresh fruit was the greatest of our worries… I’d feel blessed.” Orni kneaded Essenta’s shoulder, “Try not to worry… Delia’s smart. I’d rather that nopony got pulled on Dechaa’s surge—including Dechaa—but the right one went; she’ll figure things out and Ama will be able to find them.” Essenta hated giving into high optimism but was sure Ama was up to the task, “Yeah… What I don’t get is how Dechaa pulled them that far—I don’t know how far they went—when she’s barely able to teleport as far as the eye can see…” Orni—seeing Essenta musing more than anything—had more immediate concerns, “I’m glad I slept well last night; it’s gonna be rough, just the two of us.” Essenta nodded, “And the first night we’ve been without our ‘unicorn security’, too. I’m feeling a little exposed.” Orni dug around in their generously restocked medicine bag, “Well, we got plenty of this.” Essenta grimaced at the bag Orni hoofed her, “Oh, that coca leaf gives me such a headache once it wears off.” “Would you rather chew on the roasted coffee beans… or grind them up and eat them that way?” Orni was referring to the fact they had no fire and thus no means to make fresh coffee, another of the goodies found in the jungle, which they’d been enjoying very much the last week. Essenta reluctantly took a wad of leaf, gagging at the idea, “No… I’ll get started on this cheekful… I’ll take first watch tonight and I’ll wake you in a few hours.” Leaving Dechaa safely in Cassia’s home near the edge of the city, Delia and Cassia made a quick run to the market before it closed at sunset. Delia had offered to make dinner for them and wished to get a few supplies to make their journey back across the desert easier; their cooking, while passable, had grown awfully bland in the absence of their once-abundant spices. Delia quietly recalled there’d be a slight spice shortage—and a sugar shortage, too—in “Last Chance” as they’d seen nothing from the south for more than seven months. The only reason prices hadn’t skyrocketed and there was enough was the supplementary supply from the coasts, though the winter’s arrival would see the supply soon plummet. The entire southern continent, actually, would suffer a lack of sugar and spice very soon. She was sure the obscene prices of spices and other goods was indicative of whatever the Hell was going on but as with most things related to that she was biding her time in pondering or discussing them. She knew Cassia could read her mind if she wanted, but she did what she could to feel out the old mare regardless. Delia had already vetted the old mare in her mind, heart, and guts; the more visceral part of her—the part that had been a slave for a decade—never once doubted Cassia. It was a bond only such ponies could grasp. She knew Cassia meant no harm and was set on helping her. Why, though? Well, that was the “feeling out” part. Convincing her friends was another matter; she’d been sending “all’s well” through the stone every hour since their last verbal communication. If any one of her friends came up with some old mare and said she was the answer to their prayers, Delia would perhaps be the first to admit she was skeptical. “What kind of name is Cassia?” Delia cocked her head as they paddled along. The old unicorn mare chuckled, “Come now… you’ve never heard the name? It may be old-fashioned to a filly like you, but I’ve certainly heard of your name…” Delia snickered, “I think a fifth of the fillies in my town were named Delia, or some bastardization of it…” “I had a cousin named Delia…” Delia wondered, “You knew my name… how is it you didn’t know Melchior was my master?” Cassia hummed, “For the same reason you think; I wasn’t trying to see it, dear. I realized you’d been a slave, though; it’s often apparent. When I run across a pony that has had such a life… I leave it to them. My gift is a curse more than anything… Though—I beg you forgive me for asking—how did you escape Melchior?” Delia figured she might as well spill, “I didn’t escape… and Melchior sure as Hell didn’t set me free. His son did; he also set my oldest friend free.” “Pallo?! I’ve heard he’s quite the brat… So, his father retired early…” Delia snickered; her new acquaintance wasn’t poking around too much in her mind at all, “You could say that… but he won’t be around to enjoy life all that much.” “The stallion passed?” Taking more delight than she may have liked, Delia told her, “He and the mayor got killed last month.” Cassia looked stunned, “How?” “…Dragon.” The old mare may have laughed or been shocked but reacted rather blithely to the news, “Well… that’s not something that happens every day…” Delia giggled and was soon joined by Cassia. Laughter, though nopony else heard it, was something that had been scarce in Nuinhof. And not once had they approached the topic of what Delia was doing there or her friends or the nasty magic barrier surrounding the country or the fucked up “cry for help” or whatever it was that had sent the unicorns to seizure-town. Loress was divvying out food amongst the four in the jungle, “I’m glad you brought plenty of bread, Ama… There’s nothing nearby to eat but these tiny tangerine-looking things.” Ama patted Loress’s shoulder, “When you said to bring a day’s worth, I thought it better to bring two.” Wilka was already digging in; it took some energy to fly in the humid heat, “I can’t get enough of the cashew bread…” Ama chided her, “Well, do not eat all of it; that is to be our breakfast… and I am anticipating at least the length of a day out here…” Ama may have given Wilka a mild scolding but she was about as happy as the situation allowed. Other than Zyra being out of it, Dechaa and Delia “lost”, and night upon them without magical protection, things were peachy. Wilka, nearly inconsolable a few hours earlier, had calmed down and Loress was feeling closer to normal. With Zyra out, their only light was a gas lantern Ama had grabbed. They didn’t like possibly alerting anypony or anything else of their being there, but it was dark. They could feel the inky blackness surrounding them. Regarding the temporary shift in leadership Essenta had requested, Loress never thought all that much about the position she held and was fine with it. She viewed her own skills as such to be inconsistent at the very best and knew Ama to be the rock within their little party. Ama wasn’t as worldly but that’s not what they needed at the time; they needed somepony to lead them out of the jungle. The Terran took it upon herself to feed Zyra; much like Dechaa’s state she was in a world between asleep and awake, malleable but functional enough, “This is a sadly familiar thing…” Ama tried to sluff off Loress’s manner; the Terran had been rather dreary the whole afternoon, now well into the night. She knew Loress was referring to the 10 or so days of misery they’d endured after the night raid east of Renata. That night and everything leading up to Zyra coming back to them were best left not forgotten, but less dwelled upon. What had been 10 days of gloominess and waiting for the rest of them had been the same 10 days and then more than 40 days of sadness mingled with helplessness and terror for Ama… with only moments of solace at the end of it. And just because Ama chose to not “lord it above” anypony else it very occasionally had her frustrated the others weren’t more sympathetic to what she had been through. She simply wasn’t the kind of mare to hold it against them and would never wish such a thing upon others. Ama felt tapping on the stone in the collar of her tunic. It gave her a bit of a start; Delia had only checked in a half-hour earlier. Not only that, the message wasn’t “never say die”—meaning “all is well, just checking in with my girls”—but a rapid tap—meaning “we need to talk, now”. It got the attention of Loress and Wilka too; the two mares huddled up to Ama; Ama cocked her head for her voice to better reach, “Delia?” “Yes, Ama…” Delia’s voice came calm, unlike the fast tap. Ama was nonplussed at the casual answer, “…Are you well?” The mares could almost hear Delia’s developing trepidation; she answered, “I’m fine… and so’s Dechaa.” Ama was a bit befuddled; something was up. Loress hoofed Ama’s shoulder; she spoke, “We see… Who’s there with you?” Ama and Wilka jumped at that, but Loress stood easily. They heard Delia chuckle humorlessly, “Oh, yes, you are rather sharp, aren’t you?” Ama and Wilka were confused. What the fuck was going on? Loress huffed, “I’m in no mood for games, Delia… my head hurts. Now… one more crack and I’m tying you in a knot the next time I see you.” The mares standing beside her were occasionally cowed by Loress’s clout; Ama thought it most impressive but Wilka was just terrified by it most of the time. Delia had made one small jibe and Loress was ready to pull her ovaries out through her mouth over it. They could visualize Delia backpedaling, “Okay… Listen, I’m sorry. I’m just contacting you with some good news and I wasn’t going to do anything else than send you the ‘all’s well’ sign until I had something to share.” “Good news? And what would that be?” Ama wondered. “Well…” Delia mused. “I think I found the solution to our problems… but you’ll have to hear me out.”