//------------------------------// // Claws and Magic part 1 // Story: Hornets and Tricks // by Yuri Fanatic //------------------------------// In one fluid motion, you bring the bowl to your lips and pour the claw into you, almost choking on its sharp taste once it hits your tongue. Your cheeks immediately puff up and your eyes begin to water as you desperately try to keep this horrible concoction inside of you. "Hah! See, Trixie? That's how ponies usually react!", Grim guffaws and holds her stomach in laughter. By god... You've drank your fair share of booze in your life and even tried almost pure alcohol out of pure curiosity once. But this? This takes the cake. Not only tastes it vile and bitter, like a strange mixture of vodka and herb bitters, but it also manages to burn like liquid fire while doing so. How can they drink this without throwing up? Dropping your bowl, you pound your hoof repeatedly on the table in an attempt to distract you from the pain, which sadly doesn't work all too well. "Just swallow, squirt. It's not proper fer a lady to spit!" "G-Grim!" "What? I don't need a mess on m' table. Also it's the truth. Drakes really like it when y'..." "She doesn't need to know this!", Trixie cuts her off, blushing quite profusely and wildly waving her front hooves around. If wouldn't be on the verge of having a coughing fit right now, you would tease Trixie a bit and tell her that you already knew this. Sadly, you will have to leave out this opportunity to embarrass her. Gathering all your willpower and fighting against the urge to just spit the booze out, you follow Grim's advice and swallow, shuddering as you feel it running down your throat like acid. "Blergh!" The deed is done... Finally. "Maybe I should have mentioned that it's an acquired taste.", Grim says and cackles. "Yeah... Maybe you should have.", you pout and stuff some cake into you. That's better. "Don't be like that. How are ye feeling, kid?" "Good. I think. I'm not feeling anything yet, though." "Give it some time.", she says and tops your drink up, "If y' feel like it, drink up. If not, don't worry about it too much. It won't go to waste." Grim and Trixie share a laugh and a quick nod and then clink their bowls together, killing their contents off before helping themselves to a refill. With the latter of those two already being well on the way again to get fully shitfaced. A fact that does bother you quite a bit, since you had hoped that Grim would have kept an eye on her. But on the other hand... Or hoof or claw or whatever... Trixie seems a lot different tonight. Usually she is the quiet type of drunk, silently nursing her bottle while she watches the flames of the campfire dance and keeping her thoughts and notions to herself. More often than not forgetting that you even exist... Tonight, though, she is outspoken, talkative and doesn't mumble something into her non-existent beard every few minutes. The alcohol might helped her with that, but that doesn't matter. You quite like this Trixie. Also Grim seems to enjoy herself a great deal too, so you decide to stop worrying so much and let them have their fun. Trixie doesn't get many chances to just socialize with ponies, or gryphons in Grim's case, of her age. Well... Roughly her age. Give or take a few decades. "Looks like we digressed a bit... Where were we?", Grim asks and nips at her drink. "You wanted to tell me about your husba-" "No, she didn't.", Trixie cuts you off. "What's so bad about some tales out of school? We are all reeves after all." "Hornet's too young for this." "She's thirteen.", Grim retorts. "Eyyup!" "Still too young.", Trixie waves her off, "A filly of her age doesn't need to know such things. Trixie didn't learn about them until she was sixteen.", she states and takes a sip. "Sixteen, y' say? Which pretty colt introduced ye to them?" Immediately the sip Trixie took leaves her the same way it entered her and she looks a bit flabbergasted at your host. "Excuse me?!" "Ye heard me right. So with whom y' got yer ashes hauled first? Yer first crush?" Uh, now it is getting interesting. "That's a-absolutely none of y-your concern, Grim!", Trixie stammers, "What makes you even think that Trixie meant that?" "Why else would y' have mentioned it then?" "To make a point that Hornet doesn't need to kn-" "Fiddlesticks, Trixie.", Grim interrupts her, "Just spill the beans already! Who was the lucky colt?" "Eh... Fine.", she groans and drinks off her bowl, her cheeks now permanently tinted red, "His name was Rocky Road." "There we go! How was it?" "Trixie is not going to answer this.", she says and holds her now empty bowl out to Grim. A wide smile spreads on Grimfeather's beak and she takes the tankard into a firm grip, hiding it behind a wing. "Yer not getting any until y' tell us!" "That's chantage!", Trixie exclaims and points at Grimfeather. "Exactly~", she coos. Trixie's horn lights up and she tries to wrench the pitcher out of Grim's grasp. But it is obvious that she's not using her full power and is just playing with her. If she wanted to, she could easily overpower the gryphon, fling her across the whole room and then take her alcoholic price, but she doesn't. You can't help but to giggle a bit at the silly scene that plays out in front of your eyes. Man... You never have seen Trixie like that... So careless and genuinely happy. Maybe this is all that she ever needed... Just someone at her eye-level. A like-minded soul, so to speak. Both her and Grim lived most of their lives on a shank's pony. With neither a real nor firm homebase to speak of. "Don't be like that!" Well... That is at least what she told you. She never got into too much detail about her life before she started travelling. Just some loose stories about her parents and friends while she was drunk... And most of them weren't particularly nice ones. "Then tell us! All the claw could be yers if y' just do!" Like how she left her parents after an especially nasty fight with them. By god... She was so drunk that she didn't even realize that she poured her heart out to you back then. Even if you didn't understand most of what she said, due to her inebriated state.. "Never!" But you did get that she had some problems with her father. Some serious problems. Mostly about her choice of career. "Blow the gaff then!" She fell asleep rather fast after that tidbit about her life, leaving you alone with quite some mixed emotions and impressions. And of course she refused to talk about this the day after and even completely denied that she ever told you anything about her family and her past some time later. That's just Trixie for you, though, you thought and quickly forgot about all this. Until now that is. There are so many things you want to ask her that she simply doesn't intend to answer. Ever. Kinda sad to be honest. Maybe that's just the alcohol that you are starting to feel right now, but you really want to understand her. Alcohol always made you kind of sentimental, even as a human, and your tiny pony frame doesn't make this better. Perhaps you should just drink more... The world is beginning to spin quite nicely and you want to feel more of that lovely buzz in your head. It has been some time after all... And maybe you will understand your surrogate mother better then. Taking your bowl into a more or less steady grip between your foreleg's ankles, you stare into the colourless liquid it contains as a stray thought hits you. Surrogate mother? Do you really see Trixie as this? What a weird notion... On the one hand, you're technically a fully grown adult who is more than capable to look after himself and make his own decisions, but on the other... You're a fucking filly right now. A fact that makes it rather hard to live on your own and thus you kinda need someone to look after you. As much as you want to deny it, but that's the sad truth. And Trixie did a pretty fine job doing exactly that, didn't she? Well... At least for the most part. She took you off the streets and under her proverbial wings without asking a single question or even any ulterior motives. The latter being something that you can't say about too many ponies who took interest in you... More than once you had to run away from stallions or even mares who took a few too many strides a bit too close to you. Thanks to those encounters you developed a healthy sense of paranoia that you learned to embrace and love more and more as you travelled further and further away from Ponyville. And exactly this sense nearly didn't make you trust Trixie when she first approached you... For you she was just like the others who just wanted to use you for whatever personal gain or satisfaction they sought from you. Luckily she was rather insisting on helping you and conveyed you her offer in a non-creepy and friendly way. Otherwise you would have most likely done what you always did: Opt for flight and maybe a kick in the shins before that. But fortunately you didn't. Without her, who knows what would have happened to you by now? Equestria isn't exactly a safe place for a lonesome foal. So wouldn't it be right to think her as such then? To call her your surrogate mother? ... But would that be fair to your real one? She didn't ceased to exist just because only god knows how many light years separate her from you right now. At least you hope so... A quiet sigh escapes your lips and your bring the bowl closer to your muzzle, letting the sharp smack of the claw fill your nostrils. Doesn't smell one bit better than before, but at least you don't have to gag any more. God... You didn't entertain thoughts of her for a good while now. How is she doing? Does she still mourn you and keep your old room neat and tidy for the improbable case you might return some day? Like she always used to? You sure do hope that she doesn't... Because that isn't going to happen... Ever. Twilight made this more than clear when you asked her about the possibilities of finding a way back home for you. Something about the way magic works in the endless void of space and how she doesn't even know from where you exactly came from and some other shit like that. Not that you blame her for not trying hard enough, but... That's just another sad truth you had to accept. If you're lucky there is already an empty grave with your name on it, somewhere in your home town. Perhaps she even adorned it with a few flowers? Sword lilies and tulips... You always liked those. "Alas...", you whisper. This would be for the better for everyone. You and your sanity included... The thought of her still suffering is one you couldn't stand. Sighing again, you tear your eyes away from your beverage and shift your gaze to Trixie and Grim, who are still arguing and laughing with each other. What a funny sight... Seeing Trixie like this makes a small smile spread on your lips. So... It's alright, you guess? Blood is thicker than water, isn't it? You wouldn't replace your real mother just because... Just because... You need a new one? With the bowl still in your hooves, you throw your head back and begin to stare vacantly at the ceiling, trying process the scrambled mess of thoughts in your brain. Need... Need... Need... Do you really? What makes you think that? Can't your relationship with Trixie work on any other level? Just as friends? Or maybe travel companions? Does it really have to be a mother-son or mother-daughter or whatever one? The other possibilities didn't even come to your mind until now. Perhaps because in all the time you've spent with her, you never did think of her as anything else as some kind of motherly figure? Even with the initial distance between her and you in the beginning, she did her best to take care of you and teach you things. Just as a mother would do with her child. This raises the question... As what does she see you? Her friend? Her apprentice? Or maybe even her daughter? She did mention that she loves you a few times. So... The latter then? But on the other hand she always gets fairly flustered when someone calls you her daughter or her your mother. Out of embarrassment or sheer surprise you don't know. It's quite adorable, though. So perhaps she isn't as comfortable with this notion as you might have thought. Although... Beforehand, when you told Grim that Trixie wasn't your real mother, she looked rather disappointed and sad. As if she would have liked to hear something else from you... So... She does think of her as your mother? But only when nobody can see you two, or what? Oh man... Why must everything be so fucking complicated and unclear. Sighing deeply, you shake your head and retrieve it from the backrest again, rolling your neck a few times to get the strain out of it. This chair is not as comfortable as it looks. And why do you even care so much? It's not like this would change anything. Life would go on nevertheless. You would still help her out with her shows and she would still look after you and help you to get a grip on your magic. In the end, it doesn't really matter as what you see each other. Mother, daughter, teacher, pupil or even just friends. Or... Does it? ... You don't know. You just don't fucking know. "Something the matter, Hornet?" "H-Huh?" "Y' got awfully quiet, squirt. Did the alcohol get to yer head?" "Umm... No. I was just in thought." Looks like Grim and Trixie came to a truce while you were pondering, since Trixie is holding a full bowl in her magic grip. "Maybe we should relocate this to the pillows? Hornet looks a bit tired and Trixie's flanks are starting to hurt." "Aye. M' ass isn't the youngest and most plush either any more. Let's." "G-Grim!" "Oh, shut up, Trixie. Y' can't seriously tell m' that she doesn't know what an ass is!" "Still..." Waving Trixie off, Grim takes the tankard and her bowl into a claw and walks as elegantly as a gryphon is able to on three legs over to the pillows. With a sigh and a shake of her head, Trixie follows your entertainer and plants her plot onto the pillow next to her, almost immediately emptying her own bowl afterwards. "Refill please!" Well... This whole relocation endeavour happened quite fast now, didn't it? A bit perplexed, you take a look at your drink and try to figure out how in all seventy hells you are supposed to carry it over to the pillows. In theory you just could ask Trixie to magic it over to you, but you know from experience that she gets rather clumsy with her magic when she's drunk. Just last week she almost completely destroyed her bed when she tried to tuck herself in and set the alarm clock at the same time. So... What then? Try to levitate it yourself perhaps? You know that you need... What was the bright one called again? Hush? Hesh? No, those don't sound right... Doesn't matter, it just has to look bright but don't feel hot in your mind... God... That still doesn't make sense to you, but that's how magic apparently works. Okay then. Here goes nothing and there is hoping that the bit of alcohol in your blood gives you some kind of an edge this time. If not, you will just kill it off here. Sometimes it's just as simple as that. Closing your eyes, you start to concentrate with all your might on your horn, trying to get a "mental map" on all the ambient magic winds. At first everything is black before your inner eye, but slowly you are able to make out various colourful and ghostly squalls wafting in front of you. Most of them are brown and green. The former must be Ghur, the wind of beasts and the latter... Uhm... Something, the wind of life. Makes sense for a forest to have those in abundance. So far so good. Now you just have to find the wind you want and channel it into your horn. It should look like... How did Trixie put it again? "Hysh is bright and incandescent, like the rays of Celestia's sun.", her voice resounds in your head. Ah yes, it was called Hysh. Of course. Rays of sunlight should be relatively hard to miss, but... All you can perceive is a billowing mess of brown and green, swallowing and devouring all other winds that may be situated in your vicinity. Why though? Back at your wagon you were able to see every wind clearly. What is different now? Ugh... This is so frustrating. You want so desperately to succeed. Surely Trixie would be proud of you! But without Hysh... You fear that this is a more or less hopeless endeavour. ... Or... Is it? What if you used another wind than Hysh? Ghur for instance? Or whatever the wind of life is called? In the end you tell the spell what to do. So what difference could it possible make? You are sure that it totally wouldn't matter for such a simple task as levitating a bowl of booze for a couple of feet. For more complicated spells? Sure. But for this? Nah, most certainly not. And since you aren't even using the wind that sets things on fire, there is absolutely no way that is could go awry in any way. In the worst case, your spell will simply fail and fizzle out. That's it. Then it's settled! After a bit of pondering about which wind to use, you come to a conclusion that Ghur would probably make more sense than the wind of life to manipulate physical objects and begin to gather it.. Oh my... Magic flowing into you still feels very weird. As if hundreds of bugs are crawling around on your horn. It's a bit annoying, but you learned to ignore this strange sensation for the most part. What's far more distracting is the impression that Ghur leaves on your mind... Like all magic winds, it possesses its own distinct "flavour". And apparently the wind of beast's is the smell of forest soil in your nose and the howls of wolves in your ears. Hysh's was totally different. It made you feel warm and blinded you. Well... It didn't really blind you, it just was very bright and incandescent before your inner eye, but that doesn't really matter. Funny how magic works. After a few seconds you think that you have collected enough of the brown wind and start to weave it into a spell, focusing it on your bowl. You're imagining it levitating, just as Trixie taught you, and begin to make yourself ready to release the arcana, bending the wind in such a way that it should do your bidding. This... This actually looks and feels promising. Usually you feel yourself losing control of the magical winds at this point, but this time you surprisingly don't. Unlike Hysh and all the others, Ghur is totally in your control, not struggling or fighting against you. It's almost like you have a better understanding of it. It just feels... More natural. As if this would be "your" wind. God... You can't wait any longer. You want to see it happening. Now. And so you give the spell the finishing touch by clipping your tether to bestial wind and unleash it. "Pah!" The moment you feel the magical energy leaving your horn, you hear the frantic flapping of dozens of wings suffusing the room and the smell of carrion invading your nose. "H-Huh?" "CAW! CAW! CAW!" Startled by the cawing noises of agitated birds, your eyes shoot open and you nearly can't believe what they are able to see... A murder of crows... A fucking murder of crows. Where did they come fro-... Wait... Did you do that? Did you summon them with your spell? "What in the name of Famir?!", a shocked Grimfeather exclaims just as the members of the flock begin to fight each other, "What are those birds doing in m' abode?!" Trixie follows your entertainer suit, but is only able to look at the strange spectacle with maw agape. Blood and feathers begin to shower down on you and you cross your forelegs before your face in an attempt defend yourself from the gory rain. "I... I don't know! I just wanted to levitate my bowl to the... Argh!" "Y' did this?!" "You did this, Hornet?", Trixie asks and looks at you with an astonished look on her face. "Y-Yes! Waaahh! Do something, Trixie!", you yell and dodge the falling, lifeless body of a crow. "Of... Of course!", she says and jumps onto her hooves, her horn already glowing, "Just give Trixie a second." "Make it quick, Trixie! They are making a mess of this room! Why are they even fighting?!" "I don't know!" "So much Ghur... What wind did you use, Hornet?" "Ghur." "Makes sense... Here we go." And with those words leaving her mouth, a bright crimson beam leaves her horn and engulfs the flock in a magical shimmer, freezing it seemingly in time. One by one the crows start to disappear into the aether they came from, letting you breathe a sigh of relief, but then... "U-Ugh..." Her beam suddenly begins to get weaker and weaker, until it fully fizzles away, leaving still about two dozens of crows and a very tired looking Trixie behind. And of course they waste no time and immediately start to maul each other with their claws and beaks the moment they are able to again. "What happened, Trixie? They are still here!", Grim states with a hint of anger in her tone. "Not enough Aqshy... And Trixie needs it to banish them." "Then convert some!" "W-What?! Are you insane? Trixie is not going to convert Ghur into Aqshy! That's suicide!" Another crow drops down dead and completely obliterates what's left of your cake, covering you in frosting and dough. "Wha!" "Can't y' just blast them with magic bolts or something like that?" "They seem to bleed... Trixie thinks that this won't be a good idea." "Yeah, y're right. Then what?" "Hornet must get them under her control.", Trixie says and turns to you, "Hornet!" "Y-Yes?" "Command them to stop!" "And how am I supposed to do that?" "They are your creation, thus they will have to do your bidding. Surely you must feel the tether between them and you." Indeed... The weird, tingling feeling in your horn hasn't gone away yet. You just didn't seem to notice it until now. But can you even handle this? This is your first spell... You have not the least inkling on how to control the flock. "They will heed your will if it is strong enough.", Trixie states and beams you a smile, "Trixie believes in you." "Y' can do this, squirt! Just make 'em go away! I don't want to clean up litres of blood!" Yeah... You can handle this. Closing your eyes again, you immediately see the invisible, pulsing and faintly brown tether between you and the birds before your inner one. They are truly bound to you... You can almost feel them flapping their wings and burrowing their claws in each other. Not a nice feeling, but... Time to show them who is boss around these parts. With a mental command, you begin to channel the wind of beasts into your horn, filling your mind with visions of verdant forests and giant monsters. And just like before you feel this strange sensation of affinity between you and the wind again... Yet again it doesn't struggle and just bends to your will. Does this mean something? Maybe... But first things first. "Calm down!", you think and weave your bidding into a spell, sending it through the leash with another mental command. How? You don't know... It just felt natural to you. Like this was the only way it was meant to be done. And much to your surprise, and maybe an even bigger one to Trixie and Grim, the murder promptly stops to mangle each other, landing on the table and looking at you expectantly with blood red eyes. "Thank Famir...", Grim says and sighs in relief. "Good job, Hornet.", Trixie chimes in. It worked?! "Caw!", one of the birds squalls and jumps a bit closer to you, ruffling its black wings and cocking its mangled head. Not much of the plumage that formerly covered its body is still there and that what is left is in a disastrous state to say the least and glistening with blood. Several gaping wounds now adorn its small, but still rather impressive for a bird, form, but nevertheless it doesn't show any signs of exhaustion or even discomfort. It just stares at you with unblinking eyes, apparently waiting and biding for your next orders. Comes with being made out of pure magic, you guess... Even if it is able to bleed as you can see and unfortunately are able to smell. God... It isn't as bad as the foul scent that was wafting around at the market, but it is still vile enough to make your stomach churn. You've seen and smelled quite a few dead animals on your travels, but never were they so close to you as they are now... This is easily one of your most eerie experiences with them yet. And if this wouldn't be enough, a whole other magic wind makes itself suddenly apparent before your inner eye... A purple and extremely cold one, drifting around your horn like the touch of death itself and giving you an ever growing sense of dread. Your breathing starts to get faster and beads of sweat are beginning to form themselves on your forehead, leaving sticky trails as they run down on your head. The amethyst wind creeps around your head and injects hellish dreams of rotting corpses and rivers of festering blood into it. With each passing seconds the dark prophecies in your mind grow stronger and ghastlier, soon letting you see the ones you hold dearly in your heart as living corpses, feasting on each others purulent flesh and cackling in otherworldly voices. "Hornet?" By Celestia and whatever other alicorns and gods might be out there... What is happening? And why? Tears form in your eyes and start to flow freely down your cheeks as all strength and warmth begins to leave your body. "Hornet!" Whatever it is... It's slowly but surely overtaking you. No... You don't want this. "CAW! CAW! CAW!" Yet again the room is filled with the frantic flapping of wings and you feel dozens of tiny gusts hitting your body as the flock engulfs you. "W-What?! Why are they agitated again?" It feels... Refreshing. "Trixie doesn't know! But we have to do something! They are attacking her!" Each squall causes the mysterious, purple wind to falter and make room for the for you so strangely familiar brown wind of beasts. Finally you can feel it fully fading away and a strong shudder rocks your numb frame as the life-giving warmth returns to your horn and body. "Waahhaahh..." The moment you regain the control over your body and senses, the murder of crows disbands itself and alights on the table again, cawing occasionally as they watch you recover. "Hornet!", Trixie exclaims, stopping dead in her tracks a few feet before the table, "Everything alright, dear?" "Y-Yeah... I'm alright. Thank you." "Thank Celestia..." "What happened, squirt?", Grim asks and retracts her talons, "We were just about to rescue ye from those crazy birds." Rescue you? What? "I... I don't know. I suddenly felt something strange and cold creeping around me... And then I totally lost control over my body." "Something cold, you say?", Trixie asks and sits down on her haunches, wiping a strand of her mane out of her face, "Was it a magic wind?" "Mhm. It sapped all of my strength and body heat out of me. It was terrifying to be honest." "Was it purple?" "Yes." "Shyish." "What?" "What's a Shyish?" "Shyish is the wind of death.", Trixie answers, "Nowadays it's called the wind of change to make it sound less terrifying, but this doesn't change the fact from where it draws its power from." Trixie carefully pokes the corpse of a crow with a hoof, her face bearing a disgusted expression. "You must have put a lot of Ghur into your spell to allow their dead bodies to extrude enough Shyish to physically affect you." "I don't know... I just took so much until I thought it was enough." "Colour Trixie impressed, Hornet. She wouldn't have thought that you are this potent with your magic yet.", she states with a small smile on her lips. "T-Thanks.", you respond, trying to suppress the oncoming blush. "Why did they attack her, though?" "They attacked me?" "Aye. They swarmed all around y'. I was scared fer ye fer a second there." What? Why would they attack you? Doesn't that only happen with miscasts? But you are sure that didn't make any mistakes... "In retrospect, Trixie doesn't think that this was an attack." "It wasn't? Certainly looked like one, though.", Grim says and returns to her pillow. "No, it wasn't." she points at the birds, "They probably tried to protect Hornet from Shyish's influence." "Protect me? But why? Because they like me?" "Oh no!", Trixie giggles and beckons one of the crows to land on her hoof, "Trixie fears that they did this out of sheer self-preservation.", she nuzzles the one that did so, "You see... You are what binds them to our realm. If you would have been injured or, heavens forbid, even have died, they would have been sent back to theirs." With a shake of her hoof, she sends the bird away again, wiping her appendage on the carpet. "Filthy thing..." "So they have a consciousness?" "Not really. The mind of a magical being is nigh on incomprehensible, but what's for sure is that they certainly like existing." "I see." "Caw!" Uhm... What?! Ah, yes... Of course. You should probably thank them for rescuing you. You are not sure if they are able to appreciate your gesture, but it is the thought what counts. "Thanks, buddy." Tentatively, you reach a hoof out to the crow and it immediately hops onto it, burying its bloodied claws deep into your unprotected flesh. "Ow!", you cry out and try to shake it off, but much to your dismay it remains steadfast and continues to stay attached to you in a fairly painful manner, its gaze never leaving yours. "Everything alright, Hornet?", Trixie asks, her voice bearing a concerned tone. "Y-Yeah. It just caught me by surprise.", you respond, holding a tear back. Also it hurts like hell... But better not tell her that for the sake of her poor heart. "Okay then. It seems like they are now under your control again. Good." "Mhm. It seems like that. Now what?" "Just te-" "Just make 'em disappear, squirt.", Grim interrupts Trixie, her eyes wandering between the dead birds scattered around and on the table, "I don't want any further messes in m' house. It's bad enough as it is already." "It would be a real pity if she would just dispel them, though..." "Care to tell m' why?" "It's Hornet's first spell." "And?", Grim asks and shrugs, "Didn't she have enough action yet?" "No... Trixie means yes, but that's something very special for an unicorn!", Trixie retorts, "It's like your fist successful flight as a gryphon." "Oh, I see... Carry on then, kid." "Thanks." "Uhm... Yeah, thanks. What am I supposed to do now, though?", you ask, your eyes still locked with the crow's, which grip on your appendage didn't get one bit weaker in the mean time. If anything, it appears to slowly but surely get out of patience, drawing more and more of your blood with each rhythmic clench of its claws. That's going to leave some scars... You are just sure of that. "What did you want your spell to do in the first place, Hornet?" "I wanted to carry my bowl over to the pillows." "That was all? Why did you summon crows for that?" "I... Ow! Stop that!" "Caw! Caw!" "There wasn't enough Hysh in the air to cast that levitation spell you showed me, so I thought I just could substitute it with Gh-God fucking dammit!", you yelp and swat at the crow, which sadly manages to dodge your assault. "Hornet! Watch you langu- Uuuuaaah!", Trixie howls, one of Grim's talons boring itself into her sides and thus cutting her short, "What was that for?!" "I thought y' wanted to know how much a bird can hurt ye.", the gryphoness chuckles. "Geez! Trixie got it, okay? Now never do that again please." "I would never." Rubbing the spot which Grim poked, Trixie shoots her a stern look before shifting her gaze back to you again. "So you wanted to levitate your bowl over to us, but didn't find enough Hysh to actually cast the spell? Did Trixie get that right?" "Yep." "Why didn't you just ask Trixie then?" "I didn't want to disturb you two... And... I kinda wanted to... Uhm..." "Wanted what, Hornet?" "I wanted... Man, you see...", you stammer and and poke the crow on your leg, hoping to get it to move, "I just wanted to show you that your lessons weren't completely wasted on me." Instead of the reaction you wished for, tough, the bird does the exact opposite and just intensifies its glare and grip on you, eliciting a sharp hiss and another small spurt of blood out of you. "Ow!" "Hornet..." In thick droplets your life's essence runs down on your foreleg and trickles onto the table in front of you, gradually forming a small puddle. Quite the gruesome sight, especially since it's your own blood, but at least it's not yet quite enough for your stomach or nose to take offence to... How much blood does a filly have anyways? One litre? Maybe two? But hopefully a lot more than that what glistens so mesmerizing before you in the chandelier's light. You just can't seem to take your eyes off it... Trixie sees it too and swallows hard before grabbing a napkin and climbing onto the chair opposite of you, an act which rips you out of your trance. Quickly wiping the crimson pool up, she sighs with relief and tucks the now sullied piece of cloth under a plate, locking eyes with you and ignoring the angry look that Grim shoots her. Must have been one expensive napkin. "Okay that's dealt with... Hornet?" "Yeah?" "What made you think that Trixie's lessons were was-" But before the azure mare can finish her sentence, a sudden yelp from you, caused by yet another attempt of the crow to get its claws to connect through your flesh, cuts her off and makes her flinch. Luckily, it didn't dug deep another to draw more blood, but still it starts to get rather unbearable pain-wise. Can't it be a little bit gentler with you? You know that you take your sweet time, but you are its master after all. Perhaps Trixie can help you with that problem in some way. "Uhm... Trixie?" "Yes, dear?" "Can't you do something about it mauling me? Maybe teleport it away from me?", you ask and grit your teeth in an attempt to soothe the pain. "Trixie wishes she could...", she sighs, "But she can't. It would just be too dangerous." "Dangerous? But why?" "It's a bit complicated, but basically Trixie would mess with your tether to it by suddenly displacing it and thus she could cause a magical backlash." "And that's a bad thing I assume?" "Very bad. An inexperienced unicorn like you could easily die from the energies exerted by one." That's indeed a very bad thing to happen. "I see..." "Does it hurt badly?" "It's starting to get into this territory, yeah." "Then order it to do your bidding. As much as magical creatures like to exist, they don't like being idle while doing so.", Trixie says and shoves your bowl closer to you, "It needlessly drains their and your energy." "Okay. So I just weave another command?" "Mhm.", she nods, "Just like you did before." Sounds easy enough. Closing your eyes again for your now third command to the flock, you see yourself almost fully surrounded by the brown wind of beasts. Aside from a few blotches of green and the occasional purple blur, Ghur is the most prominent wind at the moment. You wonder if the crows produce some of it by their own or convert other winds to it. Would make sense, wouldn't it? But you can ask Trixie that later. There are more pressing things at hand at the moment. Or at hoof... Quite literally and rather painfully. So you start gathering Ghur once more and begin to weave your order for the murder once you think you have enough of it. What do you need to include, though? And how many crows do you need to carry your bowl? Would one be enough? Hmm... The one currently massaging your bones looks certainly big enough to accomplish on this task... And comes with the added bonus of it moving off your leg. Yeah, let's take him. So that's settled then. The other birds can watch in awe as it actually does that for what you have summoned them for. Hopefully they don't get grievously offended by this and start fighting with each other again... Grim doesn't look like she has the nerves for a second massacre. They looked calm enough before, though, so there is hoping. Anyway... For what you need to include... Let's see... It needs to pick the bowl up, carry it over to the pillows and then drop it from a relatively low height so it doesn't spill your booze. Preferably you would like it to properly put it down, but you doubt that this lies within the avian demon's range of eye-claw-coordination. A small drop it is then. The bowl looks stable enough to survive this without losing too much of its alcoholic contents or even breaking. With a deep breath, you lock the mental command into your horn and weave some more of the bestial wind around it, just to be save that it gets through. Also you added a small remark for the rest of the murder to stay calm and still while Bonecarver, the name you chose for the crow on your leg, fulfils the task. A pretty cool and fitting name for this crow. At least you think so. "Hnnghh..." Oh wow... Your brain feels so squishy and spongy right now... Must be all the mental exhaustion you exposed it to. "Hornet?" "All's well. Don't worry, Trixie." "Okay then." Seems like sustaining a whole flock of magical carrion birds must be more exerting to it than you might have thought. Good thing that this will be the last thing that they will do... After that, it will be the chaotic realms, or wherever they came from, for them again. Time to finish this up.