//------------------------------// // Chapter 46: Hope of Departure // Story: Princess Essenta // by Pone_Heap //------------------------------// Wicked World Arc It had taken some doing but Delia—having taken a leap of faith the others thought to be most reckless—convinced Ama and the rest in the jungle that Cassia would be able to help them. The old mare knew plenty and Delia shared a bond with her most of the mares couldn’t understand. What had seemed daunting to the lot of them—finding the city—turned out to be little more than a hike through the jungle from the savanna. Nuinhoff was a decent-sized city, covering many acres of land and having no small abundance of farmland; had the girls widened their foraging attempts a couple of miles south they’d have found not only sugarcane fields but citrus orchards—in addition to other crops—not far into the forest. The whole situation seemed briefly yet positively queer to the lot of them, but they were so elated, knowing only a few miles separated the lot of them, that they barely even thought about it. Delia had found a mare they could trust—the lot of them concluded—and they’d be able to “rescue” Dechaa and Delia come morning. By afternoon they’d be with Essenta again and not long after that—barring the unicorns still being in sorry shape—they could take the wagon, loaded with fresh supplies, and be gone from the miserable jungle and all it entailed. The desert would be another couple weeks of misery but less so without the humidity and whatever nightmare had ceased its calling out, creating distress for their magic perceivers, would be a thing of the past. They’d gotten used to the monkeys screaming and the birds chattering but they wouldn’t miss that either. So, Ama, Loress, and Wilka would sleep well that night, with confidence for the next day; hopefully Zyra would be better in the morning. They had to wait for Delia’s word to move but they would know their way to Nuinhof. They even pondered how they’d celebrate their last night on the border of Salvatrix. Delia had a lot to think about; she wouldn’t sleep much that night. Beyond determining their location she’d done little; she determined to wait until morning for Cassia’s input before an actual plan was concocted. What occupied her mind the most was keeping the worst of the knowledge she’d just recently acquired away from the senses of her friends. A civil war… “unspeakable” things happening to some filly… a group of rape-happy stallions—who’d forsaken their neighbors and countryfolk for a life of wickedness —lording over the city… Yes… Delia figured it best to circumvent all this, run through the jungle, and fuck off back across the desert as soon as possible. It wasn’t their fight… or their concern, really. Delia had little confidence Hagano the pirate would or could adequately explain what had happened in Salvatrix; he knew so little, really. But Delia would muster and let ponies know. Whether anypony could—or would—do anything about it was another story. She supposed she’d also have to let the other girls know just what was going on… once they were very, very clear of the country. All she had to do was ensure the girls got away before they realized just how wrong things were. It wasn’t their fight and it wasn’t their concern, but Delia worried a few of the girls would get “foolish” ideas about the situation… the kind to get them sucked in and killed. But they’d been screwed over and humbled in the last few weeks. Before that they faced a dragon upon intervening in the world of “politics”. Then there was the night raid east of Renata—outside Delia’s experience, of course—and the misery that entailed. Delia hoped the others to be wary of trouble—even if they did get wise, which she was praying against—and simply head north. She could hope; it was all she could do. She managed to doze a couple hours, but restful sleep was elusive. Morning arrived after what seemed like an eternity. Delia felt like death warmed over. Cassia’s magic barrier had held unto sleep and all Delia had to keep her company were the quiet noises of the house and the two sleeping mares. Dechaa would feel logy upon waking up, having been out of touch with her higher functions for about 18 hours. And she would have to piss like a horse. Delia was trying to come up with a way to assuage her freaking out upon waking; Dechaa would be confused. Thankfully, though, her host woke up before Dechaa. The old mare tottered to the kitchen table and sat down. Delia—besides not sleeping much and going over and over again in her mind the awful shit she’d heard—had prepared a nice breakfast of eggs, hashbrowns, sweet-bread, and sliced mango. The old mare gave Delia a thankful glance and tucked into the plate Delia offered. Delia sat as well and tried to eat; she had a more difficult time than Cassia, the old mare eating enthusiastically. Looking to Dechaa, Delia figured if the unicorn didn’t wake up in the next few minutes, she’d rouse her. Cassia speaking up was about as surprising as it was unsurprising; given all that had happened, reflection wasn’t all that necessary, “Delia… I’m… sorry.” The younger mare shook her head, meaning what she said, “You have nothing to apologize for, Cassia.” Delia had a hard time pinpointing what the oldster was apologizing for… or if it wasn’t just some automatic thing to say. Not all that shocking, Cassia addressed this, “I’m sorry you and your friends fell into this, if nothing else. What a thing to land in.” Delia had literally landed; she still hurt from it. The former maid picked at her own breakfast, “Anything else you need to say? Before I wake up Dechaa?” “We should discuss what we’re going to do before waking her. Have you contacted your other friends?” Delia had of course; she slurped down a juicy piece of mango, “I did… I called them from your back room… told them only what was necessary. Then I gave them the ‘all’s good’ and told them to stand by an hour ago.” “You figured out I don’t extend the barrier to the back, eh?” Cassia asked. “Well, I decided to probe around… I wasn’t going to go outside—not with what you told me about those assholes terrorizing the city—but I figured there’d be a—” “A weak point? A gap?” Cassia smirked. “I am old.” Delia knew that wasn’t all of it, “I’ve spent enough time with a couple of pretty powerful unicorns to know even they can’t maintain a perfect barrier. Charms are one thing; barriers are another. It takes a lot of constant, stable energy to generate a decent barrier. I’m amazed yours works as well as it does, but I suppose you only do what is needed.” Cassia nodded, “That’s why the barrier I have works; I don’t overextend myself. Your friends… how are they doing?” Delia poked at her fried egg, “Well, they’re glad they had their neckerchiefs; we soaked a bunch of rags in citronella extract to keep the bugs away. I guess they were voracious last night, but the girls didn’t get eaten alive.” “Well, that’s not a bad thing,” Cassia magically forked some hashbrowns made of yam (try it; it’s good) into her mouth. “Are they okay otherwise?” Delia said, “I’m glad to say they are. Our mage is feeling better… A night without that misery making itself heard has her feeling decent, at least. Other than them being a little nervous without their own proper magical barrier, they were fine. At least nothing bothered them.” Cassia looked into Delia’s eyes and had the former maid not been used to it she may have been unnerved; the old one asked, “Is there anything else you wish to know?” There were a few things Delia wondered but was unsure if Cassia would be willing and/or able to answer, “Well, I found us on the map; it’s an easy trip, so I’m unconcerned with most everything as long as we stay covert. Above all else… You said Eadwig Anthelm had all this in the works for years… What’s he after? And why the clandestineness of it all? He has an army… and a formidable one, if your comments mean much… Why not be more open? “The country has to be suffering—not that that matters to him—but it’s hard to be isolated. The idea of not exporting or importing goods… not generating revenue? And unless the government is seizing all foodstuffs and controlling distribution—and even then—things don’t look too prosperous overall.” Cassia actually smiled, “You sound like a merchant, Delia… a proper economist.” Delia shrugged, “It’s hard for me not to think that way…” Cassia nodded thoughtfully, “I suppose… As to the punchline of this great, sick joke… I’m stumped, Delia. I don’t know what the goal is in the end. Maybe he just wanted to take over… Money? Fame? Power…? Control? As for why things are as such, I think you know the answer.” Delia did, “To break his ponies. And to keep things under wraps until he’s powerful enough—that he’s solidified his power—so it’ll be that much harder to stop him.” “Naturally,” Cassia hummed. “And things aren’t so prosperous. The harvest this year? It’s barely above drought year returns. It’s not who’s tending the land, either; Earth pony magic is as strong as ever and the land is no less fertile when you look at it.” “It’s almost as if… the land is protesting all that’s going on,” Delia mused, knowing in her mind she was finishing Cassia’s thought. Cassia smirked, “Sounds kind of fruity, doesn’t it? But… yes, the land is hurting. The new government hasn’t taken full control of the food supply, but I imagine they will now.” “It’s a game… and those lording over will win… Eadwig will win…” Delia rested her head in her hooves, sleepy rather than distressed about the country’s plight. Cassia looked to the slouching mare, “And once he’s done so, he can reopen trading with the north. Until then, he’s holding ponies captive by fear and by dictating the food supply. Not all ponies are as clever as you and your friends, living off the land. Even if they were, it wouldn’t sustain any number of them for long. And if you think anypony will rise up against him when the world realizes there is no plague… you’d likely be disappointed.” Delia had already figured this, “A winter without the southern supply of sugar, spice, dried fruit, tobacco, and whatever else is down here will be devastating to the southern continent. His leverage…” “…will be significant, yes,” Cassia finished for her, looking miserable. “There’s a lot of hard land between here and the north, Delia… and the east and west coasts cannot feed its needs—and wants—generously enough. And the army? 80% swore loyalty to the new regime…15% have died. What’s left of them is somewhere… out there in the wilderness. Yes… New Salvatrix will be left to its devices; it’s needed. The rest of the continent won’t go to war, but they’ll play the game.” Delia felt ill, “It’s amazing what the love of a few spices can do…” “Surely…” Cassia agreed; she changed course abruptly, there being little reason to further dwell on things. “Now, let us discuss how we get you and your friends out of the jungle… and quietly. The less your friends know about all this, the better they’ll all sleep at night.” It hurt Delia there was nothing for them to do but run but she was a different sort of mare than her friends; she wasn’t a crusader, if that was the right label to attach to any of them, “Right… I guess Dechaa can sleep a few more minutes.” That’s right… I’m no crusader… I know better… Ama was having difficulty sitting still. She listened to Loress rustling up their breakfast. Looking around, dawn was making its presence known. No fire, again… Ama thought sourly. She disliked becoming accustomed to luxuries—it wasn’t the Mazan way, though most didn’t follow “the way”—and she prided herself in keeping with minimalism. But among her friends… Who was she kidding? She loved it. Loress hummed, “Wilka’s still asleep but if you’d like to eat now, we can save her share a while.” Ama stretched; she was stiff from sleeping on tree roots—even a minimalist avoided that, “That sounds delightful, Loress. I am rather hungry. We will let Wilka sleep until we have fresh information.” Loress yawned, “Zyra doing alright?” Like Wilka, the little mage was asleep. Ama, beside her good friend, patted her back through a blanket, “I think she is fine. She woke up for a brief time during my watch. She said she was feeling out of sorts but better.” The Terran shook her head, “I don’t get unicorns… but my magic is incomparable with theirs. What throws them off throws them off.” Ama felt similarly, “You are right about that… Other than the fact we cannot produce male foals our magic is like that of Earth ponies. The propensity for the way of the warrior… I am convinced that is ‘nurture’ as opposed to it being ‘nature’. Many Mazan would disagree; they are convinced it is in our blood.” Loress giggled, “Knowing you… I’m not sure what to believe.” Ama smirked, “It is not something I much concern myself with it all that much, but the love of war is nothing to breed into anypony… or anything.” “Here you go,” Loress hoofed Ama a large leaf “plate” containing a couple biscuits and some fresh fruit. Ama smiled, “Oh, you peeled and pitted my mango for me. You are too good…” Loress hoofed the forest floor, “It’s fine…” “Well, you are better in the ‘kitchen’ than I,” Ama gratefully began to eat her breakfast. Loress joined her and for a few minutes the only noise other than the ubiquitous sounds of the forest were the two chewing and swallowing. The two began downing water, preparing for the day. Then, the “talk-rock” hummed in Ama’s tunic. Trying to stay calm, Ama managed to not drop the remainder of breakfast; she leaned to her shoulder, “Delia?” It had been a little over an hour since Delia had contacted them; she sounded tired, “Ama.” “Did you sleep?” “No more than I had… I’ve been planning the day.” “How is Dechaa?” Ama wondered. Delia answered, “Same. I’ve avoided waking her as I doubt she’d be in any better shape than Zyra, but I’ll rouse her soon. I’m guessing you haven’t heard from Essenta this morning?” “Negative,” Ama replied; she corrected herself. “Or rather… yes, we have not heard from her. Barring some emergence of note, we agreed to keep silence until we are back at the border’s limits. Regardless, I would have to send somepony to the border.” Delia took a few seconds, “Right… I keep forgetting about the barrier…” “It is a strange thing, Delia,” Ama said. “I can’t blame you for that,” Delia’s voice came through. “Sending Wilka out alone is asking a lot.” “It is asking too much,” Ama exemplified Delia’s statement. “We must now stay together.” “Yes.” “I suppose you are in verbal contact with me because you have some idea of what we must do,” Ama managed to stifle a chuckle, noting Loress’s expectant appearance. “Yes,” Delia came back. “Take a moment and wake Wilka if she’s not up; Zyra can be filled in later but Wilka should hear this.” Later, the former maid stared into her teacup. She had almost forgotten the luxury of having a roof over her head, the last few weeks. Cassia came to the table and sat down. “I only told them I’d met you, that Dechaa was safe, that I was safe, and that I’d been able to find us on a map and could guide them here,” Delia said, sitting across from Cassia. “I’m sure they asked you many questions…” Cassia sipped the tea Delia had made. “Once I began to explain, surely. I just told them I don’t know… I don’t know what had the girls throwing a fit or just what is going on. Whether they bought it or not… I’m unsure.” “Well, you have a plan now…” the old mare added a little cream to her tea. “What is it?” “I know exactly where they are in the jungle,” Delia began. “I can guide them safely to the city but not too close. They’ll want to meet you—I don’t see the harm—but we’ll have to hurry as not to rouse suspicion. Their supplies are still good; they contacted the outside last night. Since their supplies are fine, I can carry the spices and small food items on my being and won’t need much else.” “And when they ask about what’s going on?” Cassia quizzed. Delia exhaled; she hated lying but… shit, they didn’t need to get involved any more than they had, “There’s political unrest and it’s not in our best interests to stay; we need to go and that’s it—I don’t know much more. It’s ugly and we want to get away. We can’t afford to make our presence known. And the… dead filly… wasn’t tortured and neither was her family murdered… Some filly had a farm accident, but she was a powerful unicorn; all they felt was her anguish before she died.” Cassia grimaced, “And unless somepony knows the truth then anguish is the only thing they realized, even for a unicorn like Dechaa… That’s plausible and I can back it up.” “Back me up on what you can; I trust you more than myself…” “You got it.” “The barrier, though…” Delia tapped a hoof to the table. “I’m coming up blank.” “I have some ideas I’ll share with you; just go along,” Cassia continued working on her tea. Delia had an inkling of a thought about something else, but— Cassia guffawed, “Go with all of you?! Delia! I’m too old for such nonsense anymore. And even if I could make the trip… would you go back to Penmaenbach?” Delia could answer pretty quickly, “Other than to see my best friend again… no.” “I’m going to die here, Delia,” Cassia simpered. “I’ve had a good life… had a fine husband up until last year—he was so happy to see the good things we had going… Had a few lovely daughters with some fine husbands of their own and grandfoals and their children… They’re off happy and I hope they don’t worry too much about me, but I imagine they do, with the ‘plague’ and all. Whether I live to see the land restored or don’t, it’s been pretty good. This land was good to me… and I won’t leave it.” Delia grinned a small grin, “I figured. It was just an inkling of a thought, after all…” “Things move in cycles, Delia… all things. Even evil things are as such. The unrest we see makes itself known every few generations, but nothing lasts forever… Someday the land will be what it once was—maybe better…” Delia nodded, “I’m glad you happened upon us, Cassia…” Cassia smiled, showing her impressive dentition, “Me too… Now… let’s rouse your friend. We don’t want her bladder bursting.” The old mare pointed to Dechaa, snoozing away. Delia found a good jostle brought Dechaa back to her. “Wha… wha… wha’s gun on?” the young unicorns eyes fluttered, very out of focus. “Can you hear me?” Delia was reminded of how stoned Hagano the pirate was when they “interrogated” him. “Delia…? Yeah… I can hear you…” Dechaa returned blearily. Delia spoke calmly and deliberately, “Dechaa, it’s Delia. You’re safe… I’m safe… and everypony else is fine. We had some trouble in the jungle. Now you’re in a little house in a city near the edge of the jungle.” Near the edge of the jungle, my ass… Delia knew they were a few miles away from it but considering how bleak things had looked… A few miles in such a place was still quite a chore. “Is it breakfast time…?” Dechaa mumbled. Delia almost giggled, “Soon, Dechaa… You’ve had quite an ordeal but you’re okay. Just relax a few minutes.” “Okay…” Dechaa murmured, appearing to doze. Cassia nodded, “Oh, yeah… She’s wiped out. I guess we left her that way too long.” Delia wasn’t overly concerned, “She’ll be fine in about an hour, now that she’s out of the state.” “She can stand?” Cassia eyed the other unicorn over her tea. “Stand… walk… She can do most anything with assistance,” Delia cradled Dechaa’s head, which flopped about. “Well, take her out back,” Cassia set down her teacup. “Curfew’s lifted, so see she relieves herself.” Delia knew just as well Dechaa was about to burst, “On it.” “And now that it’s properly morning, you can call out to your friends,” Cassia leaned back. “The sooner you get moving the better.” Ama took point in the jungle, carrying the bulk of their supplies; she turned back to her friends, “Delia sets our estimate at one mile out. Be on lookout for an old hollowed-out tree that resembles a skull.” The four had been on the trail to town for a while and was making rather good time. Loress was in the middle, carrying Zyra on her back; she turned to the unicorn, “Feeling better, Zyra?” The little mage was a bit green behind the gills, “I’m sorry, Loress… I wasted all that good food…” Zyra’s mind bade her eat while the rest of her body had said otherwise; the ailing unicorn was already weak but now suffering from mild dehydration, what with her upset stomach and vomiting. Loress soothed her, “It’s fine… I think I should’ve carried you from the start.” Zyra chuckled humorlessly, “You know lying around does a body little good… but now I wish I’d let you…” Wilka eyed the surrounding jungle nervously, “I don’t like this… It’s so hazy…” Ama turned around, “It is simply fog; it occurs further in with a more tropical setting. Our explorations kept us on the drier border.” Loress—being the densely-bodied mare she was—still wasn’t handling the humidity the best, even that early in the day, “I’m feeling it… The very air pulls you down…” Ama halted, “Cease complaining… Everypony… take a drink of the light brine.” The girls groaned but took hits off their canteens. With the high humidity, they’d put just a little salt and fruit juice in their water to compensate for their sweating. It didn’t taste all that good—it tasted like cold, weak lemony soup—but it perked them up at once. Paddling along, Ama saw it first, “Ah! There it is…” Something large had emerged in the fog. The four mares continued their approach and looked up: before them was the largest cypress specimen any of them had seen… and it was little more than a stump. And it did look like a skull… of a dragon. Loress’s eyes widened, “Damn… There’s no missing that…!” Zyra nodded in response. “That’s not just a stump… it’s a tree!” Wilka was amazed such a thing existed. Ama was impressed, but factual in her speech, “The vegetation you see comes from the stump. The trunk is long since removed… What a thing it must have been to see…” The tall mare turned in the direction to which Delia had instructed them. Loress spoke up, “You should contact Delia again… We’ve been over and over it but it’s so foggy I’m afraid we’ll miss something.” Ama stopped again, “A wise call… Unclear settings are never to be taken lightly." The two other mares—plus Loress’s cargo, Zyra—paused, looking on. Ama hoofed her collar, “Delia…” “Delia…” Delia heard the talk-rock well enough, even in the kitchen; Cassia took down the barrier during the day. Cassia smiled, “Seems they’ve found the old ‘Dragon-head Cypress’…” Delia eagerly sat down at the lit table, map in front of her. Poring over the map, she found their location again. The former maid hoofed the stone; one had to make a conscious decision to “activate” it, “Ama, can you hear me?” “Loud and clear…” Ama waxed. Delia couldn’t help but grin as she heard the novelty in Ama’s voice; the Mazan loved unfamiliar expressions, “Great… Good news on this end: Dechaa’s up and about. She’s a little groggy but I have her taking a nice bath to perk her up.” “That is good to hear. We have just passed the stump.” “Keep course on the trail but keep quiet. In about three-quarters of a mile you’ll come across a boulder known as ‘Traders’ Rock’; it’s something the qilin put in years ago. Zyra’s the only one of you that’ll be able to read it, but you don’t have to be able to read it to recognize it… It’s a slab of polished marble that has no earthly reason for being there. I want you four to wait near it. Have Zyra on the ‘lookout’ for anypony… or anything.” “That sounds simple,” Ama opined. “Will you be along shortly?” “Yes…” Delia felt better, knowing it was close. “I’ll message you before we set out. Just stay put and out of sight. Once the fog lifts, you’ll be able to see the city.” “I understand, Delia. If we have issue, we will be in contact. Give Dechaa my best… and your new friend, as well.” Delia allowed herself a smile, “I will, Ama. Now, maintain silence unless it needs to be broken.” “Understood,” Ama replied, and Delia knew the connection had dropped. Cassia looked to Delia, “I’m looking forward to meeting that one…” “Ama?” Delia pondered. “Oh, you’ll like her. She’s a rather straightforward type.” The old one noticed something off in the young one. She’d seen a little trepidation out of Delia but now noted something more pressing. Cassia—not without tact—said, “You have something to say. Might as well put it out there… while Dechaa’s occupied.” Delia considered Cassia a moment. There was something… and it wasn’t easy to broach.