//------------------------------// // REST // Story: Child of Harmony // by Shilic //------------------------------// Flurry sat in the light of her campfire,sewing closed the hole that had been torn in the side of her cloak. The needle and spools of thread she had found in the ruins of Manehatten were among the most useful of her tools. Without them, her cloak would have been damaged beyond usability ages ago, and with all the enchantments she’d woven into it, its destruction would significantly lower her chances of survival. So practiced was she in repairing these tears, the dark grey fabric covered all over with stitches, that the act was almost unconscious. Good thing, too, as it let her keep the majority of her focus on her surroundings. She always tried to pick safe, easily defensible spots to rest for the night, but years of experience had taught her to always be paranoid, always on guard. It had saved her life more than a few times. She’d found a good spot to settle for the night; a small plateau in the middle of dry wastes. From her elevated position, she had a perfect line of sight all around her, empty desert stretching as far as the eye could see, the moon and stars providing ample illumination. The plateau was sheer enough that only something with wings could reach the top, which meant she was most likely safe. The flying ones didn’t tend to come out this deep in the desert, after all. Flurry finished her repairs, inspecting her cloak closely. Satisfied with her work, she nodded to herself, pulling the garment over her body to shield her further from the cold desert night. She noted, with some displeasure, that her spool was nearly exhausted. She only had one more left. Then again, her task was nearly over. Hopefully, she wouldn’t need any more than that one spool. She pulled out her medallion again, each of the gems set inside faintly catching the light of the fire. Five gems, each claimed from a fierce battle. Flurry observed to herself that they had gotten easier over time. Not that her foes had gotten weaker; she had simply become more experienced. “Just one left…” She murmured to herself. “Then everything will be over…” Spotting something out of the corner of her eye, Flurry stashed her medallion away, turning and squinting into the distance. Sure enough, she saw a dark shape on the ground below, moving towards her slowly. She watched it for a while, waiting to get a closer look. It was one of the grounded melee types, and a lesser one at that. Like most of the lesser ones, it vaguely resembled a pony, but its shambling, unnatural movements made it clear that it was something else. That is, if the arches of bone extending from its back like spikes didn’t make the distinction obvious. It shuffled towards Flurry’s plateau, glowing magenta eyes locked on her fire. Flurry narrowed her eyes, waiting for it to get closer. She lit her horn, tilting her head down and calculating the distance and angle. Then, she fired, releasing a thin bolt of magic from her horn. It struck true, piercing her target’s skull, and it slumped to the ground, dark ichor flowing from its head and pooling around its body. Flurry watched it for a moment. Then, she fired another shot, poking another hole through her quarry. Just to be sure.