The short jaunt to the leading edge of the Mirage’s treeline was a messy and wet affair as the ground got increasingly waterlogged. Like the others, Fluttershy had a pair of light saddlebags and leather boots that went past her knees. She bore most of the food while Lyra carried the group’s water. Lock Stock and Rarity hefted the rest of the supplies.
Focusing ahead was all Fluttershy could do to keep her nerves from fraying. This wasn’t the first job she had done with Rarity and the others, but it was the first time she was the leading expert. The thought of it alone made her shiver if she let her mind wander. They’re counting on you. Just keep your eyes forward. Be bold, be brave.
The fog of her breath was a pale imitation of the smothering mists of the Mirage. What had cleared for her earlier was back, and doubly so at that. It was to the point where she couldn’t see past the first line of sunken trees. The still water, disturbed only by the occasional insect, threatened to hide any number of dangers. What little could be seen through the fog were dense lines on weak trees and decaying foliage that obstructed any possible way through.
“Inquisitor,” said a hoarse trembling voice behind her. Fluttershy halted her advance to see three of the pegasi that had flown them here were hovering a polite distance away from Rarity. When they weren’t looking at her, their eyes scanned the mists with the panic of a madman. “Are - are you sure it’s really necessary to go in there? The Mirage swallows all who enter. The Lunarians will be no different.”
Rarity’s reply never reached her ears. A heavy pressure on Fluttershy’s mind drove her attention back to the Mirage. The mists heaved as if a great beast was taking a breath. This isn’t what happened a few hours ago.
The pressure suddenly became physical and threatened to push her into the mud, and drown her in the brackish water below. Glancing about, she saw Lock Stock was having troubling keeping his eyes open and was beginning to stagger. Lyra fared no better and was moments from keeling over. Rarity appeared unaffected, but her attention was split between the skittish soldiers and the swamp. Fluttershy could feel animalistic anger rising from all around her. The Mirage. It must be reacting to them because they’re from civilization!
Taking a deep breath, Fluttershy started singing a calm and gentle serenade. Magic carried her voice to the trees and beasts beyond. Her song bore no words, for such things were meaningless to the wilds when it was blindly lashing out, only emotion and posturing. The song lessened the pressure on her own mind, but her friends only got worse.
“Cloudy Skies?!” Lock Stock cried out as he found sudden strength to run to the mists. “I can’t believe you’re still alive!”
Lyra gasped at what she saw and would have broken into a sprint if the marshy soil didn’t cling to her boots. “Mom? Mom, how did you get here? How do you still look-” she face planted the mud, and scrambled to free herself. Even the soldiers had stopped trying to squirm their way out of coming along and were trying to fly into the Mirage. Only Rarity kept her wits about her and was using her magic to rope the two pegasi to the ground.
“Fluttershy, Darling,” Rarity started with her faux calm tone, “I dearly hope you can tame the lion before it eats everypony around us.”
“Y-yes ma’am!” Facing the Mirage and closing her eyes for a moment, Fluttershy opened them again with a faint green glow. The sun’s light dimmed to her eyes, and the distance she could see shrank away, but now she could see shadowy tendrils that had escaped her sight the first time. Hundreds, thousands of them clawed at the sky and writhed under the water. A few hovered around Fluttershy, but made no effort to threaten her. No. Not tendrils. They’re branches! Looking back, she saw other ethereal branches enveloped the eyes and ears of her friends, save Rarity. Easily a dozen tried to attack the inquisitor, but they fell upon her like smoke against an unmoving statue. I don’t feel a druid’s touch, or else the branches would be attacking me too for working alongside civilized ponies. So this must be the Mirage alone. It’s so dark in there, so… angry.
“Today, Fluttershy!” Rarity ordered as she was now levitating Lock Stock and Lyra to keep them from going any further.
A pack without an alpha… Planting her hooves into the marshy ground, and pooling magic into her throat, Fluttershy bellowed a challenging roar that rippled through the shadowy branches.
The very trees themselves groaned and shook. The branches focused on Fluttershy, but she was not being stared down by ponies, the wilds were as natural to her as the theater was to Lyra. She stood tall and bold, and stared at the trees with an iron will. The shadows lurched at her, only for Fluttershy to repeat her challenging roar, casting them back.
Reforming again, the tendrils tried to ensnare her legs and drag them deeper into the water, but a single flap of her wings dispersed them in an instant. The green in her eyes brightened and Fluttershy flared her wings before she bellowed another roar. The branches gave off a feeble, temperamental creak before pulling away from the group entirely.
Blinking to return her vision to normal, Fluttershy sighed in relief to find everyone shaking off the illusions. Lyra was sputtering swamp water out of her mouth, Lock Stock was shivering as his wits returned and he was blinking spots out of his eyes.
Rarity was levitating a pair of now compliant soldiers to her side. She shot an approving nod towards Fluttershy before leveling an exasperated sigh at the still bewildered soldiers who looked frazzled but unharmed. “Well, that was certainly one way to throw a tizzy.” She grumbled while pulling a leg free to keep moving. “Lance Corporal.”
The pegasus remembered where he was and saluted her. “Yes, Inquisitor?”
“Perhaps it's for the best that we keep this little jaunt small. Mind the camp for our return.”
Fluttershy missed the rest of the exchange so she could find a root above the water to rest on. “Oh, that is… that was…” She took a long breath and let it out slow and steady. Adapt, change, evolve. That is the way.
“Stand to, everypony!” Rarity’s command instinctively made Fluttershy and the others go to attention. The inquisitor floated the supply bags out to everyone to share the weight. “Fluttershy, can I trust this can be avoided in the future?”
Although Rarity voiced no irritation, Fluttershy couldn’t help but to imagine disapproval. Nodding her head a bit too vigorously, Fluttershy moved the bags to be comfortable. “Yes, your honor. The Crookback influence is thin here, but their… training for lack of a better word is persistent. The Mirage is quite hostile to civilized ponies, but it accepted my authority. As long as you stay close to me, the trees won’t attack again, but I can’t say the same for animals further in.”
“By Celestia’s golden light that was just the trees?” Lock Stock sweated so much his whole face was discolored. “Just how close do we need to be?”
“I’m sorry, but I won’t know until we go deeper in. Every forest and environment is different.” Fluttershy resisted the urge to nervously paw at the root she was standing on.
Lyra broke attention to finish rubbing the mud off her face. “Well, we can test it as we go. Last thing I need is your lanky hooves stepping on my tail.”
“Agreed,” Rarity cut in to take control. “Fluttershy, you will direct our course and marching order to best facilitate an uneventful transit. The rest of you, be mindful of your footing and predators. The enchantments I wove into your clothing offer some protection against projectiles and maybe biting, but not drowning, so stay vigilant.” She directed the last part to Lyra who burned with embarrassment and renewed scrubbing her face with a foreleg. Rarity paused right as she was going to give the order to move. She started sniffing the air, scowling at more than just the smell of rotting plant matter and turned her gaze deeper into the Mirage. “Do you smell that?”
Lyra blew her nose, trying to rub grim out of it. “Where to start?” she answered sarcastically.
Rarity glanced at the others. Lock Stock sniffed as well, and scowled deeply. “Brimstone, but isn’t that common in swamps?”
Fluttershy nodded, and she had to shore up her courage to keep from cowing away. The Mirage would see it as weakness just as much as her friends would. “Yes, but not like this… Can’t you feel it in your skin? Like some lamp oil spilled on you.”
“No,” Rarity answered with dread, but my duster is warded against dark magic.” The implication made Rarity hastily face the others. “Stand still. All of you.” Looking to the sky, Rarity started chanting in reverent tones. “Celestia, Oh Light of Lights, your faithful servant,” her horn started glowing a brilliant gold instead of its usual azure blue, “grant us safe passage in these dark paths.” Spearing out from her horn, the gold light hit each of her retainers.
Fluttershy suddenly felt safe, like that of wrapping herself in a warm blanket. It brought a content sigh out of her. However, she did notice black smoke lazily wafting off her fur, and the oily feeling vanished along it. It made her almost forget about the good feeling of the holy spell.
Both Lock Stock and Lyra squirmed at the sensation as well, with the mage vigorously scrubbing her fur. “By the sun that was nasty. And I thought that the training you put us through was gross.”
Seeing that everyone was unharmed, Rarity hummed in weak amusement. “Aren’t you glad for it now?”
Clear of the unsettling smoke, Lock Stock shifted the weight of his saddlebags to get it comfortable again. “It’s got the stink of corruption about it that Lunarian shadow magic lacks. Was this always there?”
Fluttershy gazed upon the trees in new light. Most had too few leaves to survive naturally, and those that had a normal amount of leaves were being choked out by green vines that had a mess of brown discoloration. The muddy water was stagnant and infested with vermin. Life was not thin, but was caught between decay and struggling renewal. “I don’t know. This is the first time I’ve been here since the Crookbacks never accepted offers to make the Mirage the next meeting place for the orders.”
Taking it all in, Rarity pursed her lips for a few seconds. “Then let us be swift and silent. With any luck, the Lunarians will be distracting the Crookbacks too much for them to ever notice us. I will need to renew those protections every few hours, so I’m afraid we won’t have the luxury to let somepony scout ahead of us.”
Nearly a fortnight later, the four of them were camping within a living tent made of leaves that woke up as sunlight peeked through the canopy. Fluttershy jerked awake first, and scanned her friends, making sure nothing had attacked them in the night. Their ‘tent’ was a collection of overgrown leaves surrounding a patch of semi-dry land that she had molded in place. Muffled snores from the other mares greeted her while Lock Stock was up early so he could maintain watch.
Being so deep within the Mirage, between the fog and the steady smoke of black magic quietly boiling against Rarity’s fading wards he could barely see past twenty yards.
The stallion had been peeking out from between the leaves and chewing on salted jerky when her waking gasp alerted him. The piece he was about to eat instead found itself offered to her. “Morning.” He paused a bit, taking in her worried face. “Can’t see my own hoof out there, but we’ve been ignored for another night it seems, nothing tried to bite us.”
Accepting the start of breakfast, Fluttershy chewed thoughtfully. “We have the Lunarians to thank for that. We’ve been here too long for the Crookbacks to not notice us otherwise.”
He hummed in acknowledgement, and his gaze returned to the world outside. “You said you never visited here before, but did you ever have any Crook friends?”
An ear fell limp on Fluttershy’s head at the shortened name. “No. They have never liked mingling with others.” With a wing, she traced the edge of a tent leaf, dragging traces of boiling dark magic into the air. It made the stench of rotten eggs stronger, so she stopped quickly. “It’s always amazing to see how the wilds adapt to hardships.”
Tilting a curious look at Fluttershy, Lock Stock took another bite of the salted meat. “A lot like you, eh? When we first met, you could barely talk to people, now you’re here keeping the trees from doing us in.”
“I… I never really learned how to talk to strangers.” Fluttershy felt jitters course through her, so she started preening her wings to keep from getting overwhelmed. “Everypony knew everypony else in the Roan Glade.” Wincing as she plucked a ruined feather with her teeth, Fluttershy used a quick spell to reduce the feather to ash so it couldn’t be used to trace her.
Careful to keep his normally loud voice down, Lock Stock opened up his pack to fish out some ingredients to plan breakfast. “I don’t think you’ve ever told me about growing up in the order. Rares won’t say a word about it.”
Blushing, Fluttershy nearly yanked out a healthy feather, but collected herself in time to save it. “I - um.” Embarrassment threatened to clamp her mouth shut, but with the other mares still asleep, she managed to keep her jitters calm. “We… I suppose you’d think it boring and our village is ‘roughing it’ all the time, as you put it,” she ended with a chuckle more for her nerves than any actual humor. “This expedition… Reminds me a lot of how my life used to be, if I ignore the dark magic around us.”
Lock Stock paused his provisions inventory to look up at the huge leaves protecting them from the elements. It had rained the previous night, and yet they had all remained dry, save for morning dew. “You’re not going to tell me you used leaf tents for homes, are you? Wouldn’t that get a bit too exposed during winter and summer?”
Shaking her head in a casual manner, Fluttershy half-returned to her preening. “If anything, this tent would be seen as excessive. Among my Order at least, shelter of any kind is seen as separating oneself from nature, and a sign of weakness.” Shaking her head, Fluttershy idly played with another discarded feather. For a silent moment, the split butter yellow feather threatened to sour her mood with old bitter memories. “Foals and pregnant mothers were exempt of course, but the Roan felt it gave us strength, and that Mother Nature approved. That we could weather storms the civilized cowered from inside their homes of stone and wood. And yet the civilized are able to grow so much food barely a fraction of you are needed to be farmers, and you build wonders like Canterlot. If Mother Nature disapproved, no nation would have gotten as strong as they are now.”
Thinking of all of the creature comforts he got even from a small town made Lock Stock shiver at just thinking of such basic living being the norm. “Never really thought about it like that.” Even through the mists, the sunlight shining through the small gaps between the leaves was causing the sleeping mares to stir.
“We should get going.” Lock Stock got up and patted himself off. “I’ll get a proper breakfast started if you get them to help pack up.”
Taking a long breath, Fluttershy felt renewed a bit and got to join the efforts. “Right.”
As Fluttershy went about waking the others, Lock Stock collected his cooking supplies and sparked a campfire from the wood collected last night. The others left the impromptu tent around the time Lock Stock had a pot on the fire, filled with some of Lyra’s water, a few herbs and vegetables Fluttershy had collected and purified days prior, and pieces of river crocodile Rarity had hunted yesterday for lunch. Through the cooking process, Rarity serenaded a renewed ward around them so the thickening dark magic would not seep in from the ground.
As the group ate, Lyra plucked away at her instrument to keep everyone’s spirits up. The music was a balm to Fluttershy’s ears next to the dull scornful moan the trees whispered, ever watching the group should any of them stray too far from her.
“Sorry I can’t spare the salt to preserve any more of that gator, lass,” Lock Stock said to Fluttershy as he offered her a second portion. “A shame to let the rest of it go to waste.”
Smiling at the attempt to console her, Fluttershy gladly accepted the food into her bowl. “It will not go to waste, for Mother recycles us all in the end.”
Small chatter crossed between them until they had filled their bellies. As Lock Stock and Lyra cleaned up, Rarity dusted herself off, silently lamenting how dirty she had gotten. “Fluttershy, have your familiars had any luck scouting the Lunarian force?”
“Only that we’re still going in the right direction based on how my connection gets weaker the closer the bird flies. With the mists the way they are-”
A distant volley of massed rifle fire cracked over the trees, cutting her reply off. They all looked to the northeast, weapons drawn out of instinct. It was too distant to make them dive for cover, but it still set them on edge. Lock Stock spoke up when they loosened up. “That was easily over thirty guns. Small arms only, couldn’t be more than two miles out I’d wager.”
The Mirage writhed with directed anger under Fluttershy’s hooves. “They’re fighting the Crookbacks, I can’t tell how many, but definitely more than one.”
“Looks like we’re closer than I thought.” Rarity asked while securing her things, now that she knew they were not under attack. Even so, she did so with haste, and the others were quick to join her. “I want us on the move in five minutes!”
“Yes, ma’am,” came the chorus of replies. Fluttershy tossed the remaining soup into the water, having no time to save or eat it. Lyra secured the bedrolls, while Rarity renewed the holy wards on everyone’s clothing.
Once everyone was set, Fluttershy commanded the trees to lift their roots to form a path once more. Lyra ran a few steps ahead of them, deftly moving along the uneven roots. “Let’s go while the druids have them distracted!”
“Agreed.” Rarity burst forth to take up the lead. “Fluttershy, keep an ear out for any Crookbacks we might come across. They’re likely to be hostile until we can explain ourselves.”
Fluttershy’s instincts didn’t want anything to do with a battle, and her hooves threatened to not carry her a step further. But the eyes of the Mirage were upon her, and it was no place to show weakness. Not knowing if it was fear of the Mirage, or disappointing Rarity that made her chase after the sounds of battle.
As the minutes passed, Fluttershy found the trees more willing to lend their roots for their passage as if thinking the Equestrians were here to repulse the Lunarians. The crack of volleyed rifle fire sounded five times as they thundered over the path before something changed. The mists began to thin. The trees became quieter, and the ever-present dark magic boiled in midair.
The limp body of a pony in the water caused the group to skid to a halt. Rarity kept her horn dark, and scanned the area with both horn and eyes. “Everypony, keep your eyes peeled, Fluttershy, see if that pony’s still alive.”
As the others checked for danger, Fluttershy whispered a few notes, and had a tree root push the body towards them. By the time it was pushed against the walkway, Rarity was satisfied they were still alone and used her magic to pull the body onto the walk roots. She waved for silence as Lock Stock inspected the body. “Holy mother of-” he croaked as he finished pulling the body out of the water.
It was a stallion at least, yet he looked like a plague victim. Buboes covered his joints and black tar seemed to cling to his fur. Stunningly, he still breathed, but bog water trickled from his maw. He did not gag or choke, but the groan of his lungs made it clear it was full of water. “He’s still alive,” Lyra gasped behind a hoof, half out of shock and half out of disgust.
Rarity knelt beside the ailing pony who was fading out of consciousness. “By Celestia’s light, he’s replete with dark magic! Stand back everypony.”
“Oh Celestia, holy of holies, cleanse this poor soul of the malaise that afflicts him.” Rarity poured holy magic into the druid’s limp form. Boiling black smoke exploded off of him in an instant and a wordless scream garbled from his frothing lips, muted only by the water still clogging his lungs.
The pustules and buboes around his joints grew and multiplied, spreading all over the druid’s skin in frightening rapidity. Lyra freaked at what was about to happen and pulled Lock Stock back down the trail. “He’s going to blow! Everypony, get away from him!” Rarity stopped her spell after seeing the druid was inflating like a grotesque balloon. She grabbed him with her magic and flung the body through the gaps in the trees. Scant moments later, a sickening pop echoed through the dense fog.
All of them instinctively covered their heads, but thankfully nothing splashed nearby. They all stared dumbly at the source of the pop, and it was Lyra who found her voice first. “That’s not Lunarian magic, no way no how.”
The frightful tone running through the musician’s comment renewed the shivers running down Fluttershy’s spine.
“Even if it was, they couldn’t have cast anything that nasty so close to the engines,” Lock Stock added breathlessly.
“I don’t think he’s dead. At least not for long,” Fluttershy said after finally finding her voice.
“Necromancy?” Lyra echoed the others’ disgust at even thinking about it.
Fluttershy broke out in a cold sweat, went faint, and had to sit down to keep from keeling over. “Close, but not exactly. It’s forbidden druidic magic where he doesn’t truly die. He’ll reform in a few days unless Rarity’s spell managed to burn through enough of the dark magic. I never thought the Crookbacks were this far gone.”
More gunfire tilted Rarity’s ear. “It appears these druid treaties need some form of deeper oversight if such a thing can happen under our noses. We should keep moving.”
Finding the Lunarians proved a somewhat easy task. Whatever machines they employed made the mists thinner as Rarity’s group neared. At last, the four of them stopped behind a pair of trees where the air was clear enough to see the sky unimpeded for the first time since entering the Mirage. All of them needed to stay hidden behind trees and tall fronds to avoid the pegasi patrols circling the flotilla.
Three shallow-draft boats were steaming forward at a steady, if slow, pace. The first had only a single deck above the waterline. From what Fluttershy could see, there were fifteen infantry huddled near the bow while keeping eyes peeled for threats. The boat had acid burns, scorch marks, and some limp browned vines clinging to it, but it’s covered rear-facing paddle wheel pushed on with the signature indifference of a machine. There was an earth pony tied to a rope trying to repair a hole in the boat’s hull, revealing a small kitchen. The center boat was more akin to a barge than a boat due to its wide, almost square frame. What set it apart from any boat Fluttershy had seen before, either in person or in paintings, was a thick fabric covering that concealed something the size of a train engine. Could be that exactly… but what could they be doing with a train in the middle of the swamp?
Unlike the first boat, the barge’s paddlewheel was exposed and looked hastily cobbled together. Aside from its cargo, the barge carried rows upon rows of cots with some thin oak walls and roof to keep the elements out.
The last boat was the coal tender, and it was belching sooty black smoke as the three pony crew tried to end a minor coal fire. Oh my. I wonder if that druid we passed had anything to do with that.
Overall, the steaming boats and circling patrols created a startling dichotomy with the Mirage surrounding them, like buildings rising from deep within a forest. They didn’t belong, and yet despite the hostility seeing the Lunarians normally brought Fluttershy’s companions, she noticed each of them almost sighing in relief. Here, the dark poison was thin, the oppressive fog parted, and the sun showed through unimpeded, warming their fur like no campfire ever could.
All of it was made possible by the children of the moon. I wonder if the others see the irony in that. Fluttershy wanted to bask in the warm sunlight just a little longer, but the others started moving parallel to the boats’ path, creeping along roots and patches of dry earth.
Shouting could be heard from all three boats, yet it was the unicorn mare in a white uniform that stuck out most to Fluttershy. Of all the Lunarians she saw, another stood out from the soldiers to the sailors, the presumed commander was talking to an earthy brown cloak on. Simple garb, blending in with the Mirage if he weren’t on a boat…
Lock Stock checked his long gun over, and started loading it. “Noisy bunch ain’t they?”
Lyra’s staff floated steadily near her face, her gaze locked onto the presumed Lunarian commander. Had the others not been distracted, they’d have noticed her mane seemed to be pulled slightly above the staff in two different directions along with bits of loose dirt gently swirling in mid air. “Can’t match your blabberin’ any time you hit the cups.”
Lock Stock smirked as he rammed the powder down the barrel. “You’re just mad I’m a better singer.”
“Stow it, both of you,” Rarity chided coldly before returning her focus to study the Lunarians.
We can’t fight them. We shouldn’t fight them. The mental image of the grateful druid they left behind haunted her. Yet she found voicing such concerns all but impossible.
“There’s no way this is a smuggler or survey group,” Lyra stated as she pointed her staff at the plumes of black smoke and then to the coal fire which was now under control. “If they had half a brain they’d have turned back long before now if they were.”
“I agree.” Rarity scowled as she considered what to do. “The only logical reason worth considering is that they’re acting against whatever did this to the druids.”
“So what should we do?” Lock asked as he put his gun’s ramrod away, but he didn’t cock the hammer yet. “Leave them to it, or what? The way things are going, the war’s already kicked off while we’ve been knee deep in this muck.”
“Perhaps, but until I receive word of such open hostilities, the Lunarians are to be treated as our wayward kin, as they have always been,” Rarity rebuked sternly, only earning a begrudging yet submissive nod from the sergeant. “Things being what they are, the Lunarians are what we came here for, but that body we passed…” Rarity glanced at Fluttershy, “these fallen druids are a danger we can ill afford.”
Until mention of the druids, Fluttershy had been flooded with relief, but now she felt drawn back into a dismal air. “The Orders normally police themselves, but I’m surprised they turned to the Lunarians for help.”
Lyra coughed at the claim. “What makes you say that?”
Pointing at the robed pony arguing with the Lunarian officer, he could easily be mistaken for a mage or civilian. Fluttershy replied with conviction. “I believe he’s a druid, though which Order I can’t tell.”
A dangerous smile crept over Rarity. “Then I believe we have found our ambassador.”
Lock Stock and Lyra shared a brief quizzical look before all three looked at Fluttershy.
“Meee?!” Fluttershy shivered at being anywhere near the engine. Not so much for the noise or what it was, but because the closer she got to one, the quieter the natural forces of the world became. “I - I can’t talk to them. They'll ask why I’m here. They’ll know I’m lying right from the start.”
Rarity watched the boats as they slowly steamed past their hiding spot. Her brow furrowed with thought. The others tried to put Fluttershy at ease, but the pegasus kept retreating behind her mane. When it was clear they’d have to move to keep up with the boats, Rarity at last came to a decision and stomped the roots to cut off her friends’ muted chatter. “Then we try the truth.”
Lyra balked at the idea. “Uh, Rares, I don’t need to be the one to remind you Lunas would shoot you thirty miles out before they’d risk talking to you.”
“Yeah. And they’re protected by that engine. You can’t do much around that thing,” Lock Stock added worriedly. “Besides, Lunatics are the type to double cross you of all ponies out of principle, and call it fair game.”
The pair continued giving reasons to lie, but after listening to a few more, Rarity waved her hoof for silence before addressing the silent druid. “Fluttershy, do you believe these fallen druids will threaten the world beyond the Mirage? You know them best.”
I don’t know them much at all, and that worried Fluttershy most of all. She looked at the ground to think. “It’s… possible the other Orders already tried to fight, and failed. So they turned to those who are masters of countering magic.”
Nodding slowly, Rarity shivered as the dampening field the engine created slowly loosened as the boat steamed ahead. “If you feel you are not ready, I will go myself to ascertain what the Lunarians know. The rest of you will watch. Should I be killed or captured, report as such back to Vinesburg.”
Though no one gave her any looks of contempt or disappointment, Fluttershy’s own thoughts more than made up for it. Rarity had chosen her to be the inquisitor’s second. And now when her friends needed her, Fluttershy’s own fears threatened to still her tongue. A spark lit within her, and her nerves calmed into a kernel of iron. The Green Mother demands adaptation from us all. I must be bold. Holding onto that nugget of valor, Fluttershy pulled her mane aside and jumped into a low hover. “I can do this. I can speak with him druid to druid.” The fear clawed at Fluttershy’s resolve but the proud smile from Rarity gave her the strength to keep going.
“Glad to hear it. As long as the rest of us shadow the flotilla, I should be able to keep the others safe enough from the Mirage. I will leave it to you if you feel revealing my identity is required to address whichever threat is worse.”
Warmed by her trust, Fluttershy dearly wished she could hug Rarity, but had to settle for nodding before flying off.
After creeping forward to get ahead of the boats, Fluttershy climbed into a tree and stuck a leg out and waved it around for one of the patrolling pegasi to spot. The whole time she did so, Fluttershy kept her eyes closed, afraid the patrol would be as jumpy as she was and shoot at her the instant they saw her leg.
Such fear got the best of her. When the sound of wings on the wind got close and the cocking of a gun hammer clicked she shouted, “Parley!”
A moment passed.
She yelled again, “Parley!”
Another moment came and went until a tense voice, like that of a piano wire strained to breaking, called out, “show yourself, nice a-and slow like.”
Poking her head out of the canopy, Fluttershy saw two pegasi soldiers pointing wrist mounted pistols at her. Both were drenched in sweat, either from the unusual heat produced by the Mirage making it feel like summer, or the pressures of battlefield paranoia she couldn’t tell. At least they haven’t fired yet. The grim reassurance didn’t help her nerves much, but it was something. “I’m Druidess Fluttershy of the Roan Order. I request to speak to your commander.” Not really a lie since I was born with them.
The pair soldiers didn’t take their eyes off her, but whispered between themselves. “How do we know this isn’t some con you lot are doing to try and assassinate him?”
At least that’s a question Rarity told me how to answer. “You have a druid with you. I can speak with him first and he can vouch for me.”
“You a pegasus?” One of them asked, his gunleg shaking so bad he’d miss her even if he did shoot.
Fluttershy pulled the rest of her body out of the canopy, and flared her wings. She briefly worried her well-tailored saddlebags might give her real allegiance away, but the soldiers made no show of even noticing them.
“G-good,” said the first speaker in the wavering tone of strained courage. “Come with us and no funny business.”
The three of them turned heads as Fluttershy was escorted to the center boat, and every one of them had a gun close by. The whole way over Fluttershy had to keep herself from looking at all of the eyes undoubtedly staring at her. Oh my. Ohh no. How did I talk myself into this one?
After being told where to land, Fluttershy took her first step on a boat. The river was calm and wide, but the wood beneath her still rocked slightly, and the steady movements of the engine caused gentle vibrations through the deck. Though the song of the wilds was muted to her now, the engine’s sounds, the swaying of the deck, and the faint vibrations felt like she was standing on a living creature. Fluttershy couldn’t help but to gasp in awe of it. Life created from metal and imagination! Forgetting herself, Fluttershy laid down, so she could feel the boat through her whole body. Through the deck, she felt and heard smaller things, hoofsteps of its crew, the pitter patter of mice sniffing around for food, the sloshing of water barrels, the tense sound of taut rope. A melody all its own.
Having seen the druid’s approach and strange behavior, the white uniformed mare left the boat’s wheel and met her at the port side, dragging the brown robed stallion along the way. “What’s this all about,” she growled, chewing on a twig.
The escorts had to pull their eyes off Fluttershy who was now pawing at the wood and saluted the commander. “Ma’am, this one claims to be a druid from the Roan Order. Calls herself Fluttershy, and wants to parley with you.”
Hearing her name caused the pegasus in question to become aware of her surroundings. With a squeak escaping her lips, she jumped back up to her hooves and bowed. “A pleasure to meet you…”
“Commander Turnabout.” The unicorn was about to say more, but stopped herself. Rolling the twig to the other side of her mouth, Turnabout eyed the robed stallion. “Friend a’ yours, Rock Salt? We could use another tree talker to clear the way faster.”
Now that she was close enough to study the robed stallion, Fluttershy was surprised to find out he was barely an adult. A deep scar ran down his neck and chest, and his right eye was damaged enough to impair his vision. Oh my, he should have been healed before scars could have formed! Pity made her heart ache, but the sad frown she wore was taken as condescending by him.
“Not a chance. The Roans refused to help just like all the others,” the young stallion seethed at Fluttershy. “Claimed my injuries proved I was banished, and was making up stories to get revenge. Not my fault our order can’t use mending magic worth a damn.”
Fluttershy’s ears wilted at the story. I wish I didn’t know how that felt.
“Δεν μπορώ να μιλήσω για την παραγγελία μου, μόνο για τον εαυτό μου. Σας παρακαλώ, δεν έχω ακούσει πολλά από όσα έχουν συμβεί εδώ.” Turnabout and the other Lunarians in earshot grumbled at being left out of the loop, but she hoped it at least confirmed to them that she was telling the truth so far.
Rock Salt shook his head with a bit of beleaguered energy. “Don’t. My hosts don’t like it when I speak something they can’t understand. But… As for what happened, The Crookbacks have been guarding the dark portal for longer than the elders could recall, or bothered to anyway,” he spat bitterly. “Always thought it was odd since it was the reason we stayed in this festering pit of a swamp. All they do know is that it was sealed by Starswirl the Bearded, and that our ancestors made it our duty to make sure that seal was never broken. I don’t know what, but something happened while I was out patrolling the eastern fringe looking for dead intruders to make sure they didn’t carry anything harmful to the Mirage. It was my first one on my own, and my rite of passage so I had been away from the village for two years. I still had a month left of my patrol when I ran into my sister Gray Moss.” Tears betrayed the stern mask he tried to wear, and angrily brushed them away. “When we find an outsider’s body, we’re supposed to give some basic last rites to send them to Luna or Celestia. But she was - she was… You already know. I went to the Roans first after all,” he huffed spitefully.
“I was away,” Fluttershy replied carefully. Unsure of what to do, Fluttershy fell back on how she’d approach a wounded lion, and carefully rested a hoof on his side. “Speak of your pain, so you can ease your troubles. We’re all friends here, right?”
Rock Salt jerked away from the hoof and towards Turnabout a step. “I was going to! I just need some water is all.” Nearly pushing past Fluttershy he hooked a foreleg around a rope and dunked his face into the water.
Having grown used to straining and boiling her water, Fluttershy felt a little queasy at drinking it straight from the river. Turnabout retched a little. Not that it mattered to Rock Salt as he pulled his head back out, his face now completely waterlogged and more importantly to him, hiding his tears.
“Like I was saying, it - well it doesn’t matter what she was doing to the body. Only that it was beyond blasphemous. She was rambling about service to the dark father. I wanted to stop her before she got done doing what she was doing. I was always better than her in a fight, but the way she moved. They way they all move…” Rock hugged himself, trying to control his cracking voice as best he could, and covered his eyes with his hood. “Her legs moved strangely, like somepony was pulling on her joints from above, rather than her moving on her own. When she spoke, her mouth was fully open and not moving, yet words came out perfectly. I shut her up good with a few good kicks before locking her in place with some branches, but others showed up and-”
His tears may have been hidden, but his voice cracked with sorrow. He tried to keep his lip from quivering by gritting his teeth, and pointing at his facial scar. “Elder Patient Granite did this to me before I could run away. Didn’t even ask what was going on with Gray Moss, just straight up hit me. He - he moved just like Gray Moss: strange and jerky. He started demanding for me to swear service to the Dark Father too. I couldn’t believe it, Elder Stonewall was the strongest of us all. If he served the Dark Father, then everypony else was too. So I ran to get help.”
His story brought tears to Fluttershy, and she dearly wished to embrace him, if only to ease his pain. Yet that age-old reluctance around other ponies made her settle for wilting her ears and expression. “That’s terrible. You were brave to go to the civilized for help.”
The admission got stunned silence from Rock Salt, and even Turnabout was left curious. “I always thought you tree types wanted nothing to do with us. But good on ya for asking all the same.”
Fluttershy responded more to see Rock Salt’s reaction than to reassure the Lunarian. “If there is one thing the Green Mother venerates above all else, it is adaptation. And civilization opens up more avenues of such growth beyond what the wilds can offer.”
“Ha. Never thought I’d see the day a druid say a kind word about us when they didn’t have to.”
Rock Salt was left feeling deeply conflicted, and his anger had subsided for vexation. “The elders, before they went mad at least, would have banished you or worse for such blasphemy.”
Fluttershy’s ears fell, but she kept a thread-bare smile on her face. “Though our kin are blinded by pride, I’m thankful the Roan thought banishment was enough.”
The air around the boat changed when the commander’s tone grew dangerous. “Wait. If you’re not here for the Roan, then how did you find out about us? We kept news about a rogue druid order quiet.”
All around Fluttershy, soldiers readied weapons while those further back kept vigil over the wispy fog for the attack sure to come at any moment. Fluttershy’s throat dried like desert sands in an instant.
Be bold. Be bold. You have to be bold. The dam of her courage threatened to shatter amongst the deluge of terror. A cub in a den of wolves for which she only had one defense. Raising a hoof she tried to keep from shaking, she said, “I’d like to remind you I’m here on parley.”
The angry sneer on Turnabout’s face grew ugly. “You’re aligned with Equestria, aren’t you?” Even Rock Salt took a few steps back to keep from getting in the middle of what was surely to happen.
Taking a moment to compose herself, Fluttershy managed to crack out. “I-Inquisitor Rarity Belle to be exact.”
It was the commander’s turn to panic. “Inquisitor? Here?!” She and those soldiers in earshot backed away, to be closer to the engine. She had to stop herself from leveling a pistol at Fluttershy, while the other soldiers frantically searched the treeline for anything remote pony shaped. “Don’t jest about them, druid,” Turnabout declared, trying to recover her wits. “Those nuckelavees are as bad as the Crookbacks.” She glanced at Rock Salt. “Present company excluded of course.”
With most of the guns now pointed away from her, Fluttershy felt like she could breathe again. That is so long as she focused on Turnabout’s eyes instead of the pistol. “I would not jest about such things. I’ve been authorized to inform you that she’s willing to work alongside you against a common threat.”
The forced laugh from Turnabout quickly morphed into existential terror. “You’re - serious!?” The pistol zeroed in on Fluttershy in a heartbeat. “I want nothing to do with an Inquisitor!” Turnabout shouted. “You’ve had your parley, now get out of here!”
The sudden change in tension made several soldiers aim at Fluttershy as well, but most frantically searched the area for the supposed inquisitor.
“Wait, please!” Fluttershy pleaded with a raised hoof. “Rarity Belle may not be the only Equestrian investigating your expedition. She’s willing to work alongside you whereas others may not.”
“Sure she does.” Giving a scoffing laugh, Turnabout took a step forward with some attempt at bravado. “And the moment she gets a chance, she’ll kill or stripe the lot of us. This place is bad enough with the Crookbacks around. What makes you think we want to be anywhere near a nuckelavee?”
“Which would you prefer? Her operating with or without an accord between us?” Fluttershy felt rather proud about her argument, and even more so when the commander didn’t decline out of hand.
“We still have the ‘Do Nothing’ for protection.” The soldier near Turnabout offered half-heartedly.
“Sure we do, until we try to use it against the portal,” Turnabout retorted bitterly. She glanced around at those under her command, only to find many of them were as paralyzed by terror as she was.
“Rarity will honor her word,” Fluttershy pressed on. Everyone’s fear was starting to unnerve the skittish mare. Rarity told me the Lunarians feared her and her brethren, but I thought she was embellishing it. “I wouldn’t follow her if she didn’t.”
One of the pegasus escorts was clutching his carbine, shakily waving it at anything that moved in the treeline. “We’re dead either way. She jumps us now, or after we close the portal. It just had to be a damn swamp, or else we coulda just torched the whole place.”
Sucking in a steading breath, Turnabout closed her eyes and counted slowly to calm down. “Keep it together, Gulf Stream. Get back on patrol!” Casting the soldier from her sight, Turnabout leveled a shaky gaze on Fluttershy. “We’re damned no matter what we do, so I might as well bargain with the devil I know. Go. I’ll speak with your - Inquisitor.” Turnabout kept her pistol ready, but didn’t aim at Fluttershy. “If either of you tries anything, you’re dead, got it?”
“Uhh, naturally,” Fluttershy shivered a bit. I did it. I can’t believe I actually did it! Surging with confidence, Fluttershy went to the edge of the boat.
Turnabout shook herself, and swatted at a mosquito before marching over to the boat’s wheel, took a whistle from on top of the map, and blew four short and one long notes, signaling to hold fire and pull back to the boat for new orders.
Turning to face roughly where she met the patrol, Fluttershy waved a wing a few times until she felt something strange. It was small at first, but she felt… lighter. As if she had lost a few pounds in a matter of seconds. Something fuzzy entered her view, and upon focusing on it… Is my hair floating?
There was a sudden shot from the trees as three figures burst into the air. They arced downward halfway to the boat and came in hard and fast. Before they slammed into the boat, the sensation of lightness surged and Fluttershy was momentarily lifted off the deck. Water between the boat and the tree line seemed to rise like reverse rain, and several pegasi were pulled wildly to a central point behind the inquisitor. An instant later, Rarity, Lyra touched down on the deck with the grace of a skilled pegasus, save for Lock Stock who stumbled a bit, glad to have something solid under his hooves. The pull vanished, giving the pegasi enough time to correct themselves before they collided with each other or the river.
Every Lunarian who had an angle aimed at the trio, while others tried to squeeze in for a look. Fluttershy was taken aback by how clean Rarity looked, it was as if she had walked out of the shower and certainly not like she had trekked through the swamp for a week.
“Gah, I hate it when you do that,” Lock grumbled at Rarity, yet it was Lyra who was left hiding a smirk at his expense.
Ignoring the comment, Rarity inclined her head a touch towards Turnabout and leveled a calm, if firm expression her way while speaking in a soft, overly polite voice that carried an overabundance of self-confidence. “Inquisitor Rarity Belle, at your service.”
The sudden arrival left the Lunarians shaken. Everyone, save Turnabout pressed a little closer to the engines or each other. Palpable fear seemed to thicken the very air, and a razor’s edge was all it would take to snap. The white uniformed pony, sweating profusely though she was, mustered the courage to hold her ground. “Commander Turnabout of the Violet Provincial Militia.”
“Militia?” Rarity asked rhetorically with surprise disapproval coloring her tone. An insult nearly left her lips, but she kept it quiet. “You’ve braved the Mirage while also maintaining passable discipline among your soldiers. It is refreshing to see such competence in my would-be allies, however brief that title may hold. Am I to understand your business here is to deal with these… misguided druids?”
“A-aye.” Turnabout waved a hoof at Rock Salt who was taking a keen interest in how fear inducing Rarity was to those around her. “He tried warning the army, but they’re more worried about war preparation.” Every moment Rarity wasn’t throwing a stripe on Turnabout’s mane, the more she was able to speak without her voice cracking. “I’m a historian when not working in the militia, and when I heard Rock’s story about the Dark Father it reminded me of the Pony of Shadows I read about from a copy of Star Swirl’s journal. I knew we had to act before the war kicked off or we’d never have the ponypower to spare. A-as soon as we handle it, we just want to go back home. My company ain’t got no aims against Equestria.”
Glancing around at the boats, along with the multitude of terrified faces, Rarity hummed aloud. “I pray you speak the truth. And so long as that fact remains as such, I am willing to aid you in eliminating the Dark Father and this fallen order. Servants of sun or moon, it serves neither of us to let such a threat fester.”
“And - um - what about after we take him down?” Turnabout asked much too quickly for her liking. “We go our separate ways, right?”
Rarity did not focus on Turnabout this time, she wanted to use her magic to speak to everyone, but the engine would make such an effort pointless, so she shouted for all to hear over the noise. “Celestia as my witness, I will act in good faith so long as you do the same. When this matter is settled, we will part ways amicably.”
Stiffly stepping forward a bit to grab Rarity’s attention, Turnabout had to suppress the urge to shoot her then and there. “We - we aren’t exactly flush with room to sleep on here, but we at least have some hammocks for the four of you.”
“That’ll do,” Rarity said with a grateful nod.
It will certainly be better than sleeping on the deck, Fluttershy mused as she frowned a bit at the moldering wood.
“But I am not one to sit idle. I will be-” she stopped herself when Lyra tapped her side to whisper in her turned ear.
“Inquisitor, are you sure this commingling is a good idea? Even if this Dark Father or Shadow Pony or whatever is a serious problem, this lot might learn not to fear you as much as they should.”
“Must I reiterate the Book of Swords chapter six, verse twelve? It should be my prowess in battle that they fear, not us acting dishonorably. Besides, the Treaty of Broken Arrows is still honored for matters such as this, so our superiors can’t reprimand us.”
Lyra glanced around, unsure about eavesdroppers since Rarity was not whispering back. “I doubt most of these Lunatics ever heard of that treaty, much less read it, but I’ll follow your orders either way.”
“That is all I require.” Rarity stepped over to Lock Stock who was shouldering all of the team’s gear. He bore it well enough provided it wouldn’t be long. “Take our things to our arrangements. And keep a close eye on it. Even if this Turnabout lass proves honorable, I wouldn’t put it past one of her less disciplined civilian-soldiers who would love to steal something and claim they got one over on me.”
The order brought a cheeky grin to his face. “As you order, inquisitor.”
Not wanting to let Rarity out of her sight, Turnabout ordered a deckhand to escort Lock Stock as she accompanied the Inquisitor.
“Now,” Rarity began, assuming command so long as Turnabout acted too timidly to assert herself. “We should talk specifics about how you planned to deal with this Dark Father so that I can best be of assistance.”
Turnabout shivered as she tried to force stress out of her mind. An act certainly helped by Rarity refraining from glowering at her. “Rock Salt, tell’m what you told us.”
Far from being intimidated by the inquisitor, Rock Salt was enamored by the fear she instilled on others just by being there. He eagerly jumped at the chance to offer his aid if it meant he could talk to her. “Our Order’s village sits in the middle of the Mirage. Unlike others we don’t stay here to guard or protect the Mirage, it’s not exactly defenseless against outsiders as you know,” he added with a boastful, childish smirk. “No, we stay to watch over the Eye of Shadows. It’s the ahh-“ his smirk died instantly. It was the kind of death where youthful pride crashed in the face of remembering his sober reality. “It’s the reason the Mirage is the way it is. I’m sure you have all felt it by now. That… how did you put it, Commander?”
Turnabout smacked her tongue as if remembering she had a foul taste in it. She suddenly looked uncomfortable in her own skin. “It’s an oily feeling that buries itself into your skin and bone, like a rabid dog biting into fresh meat. If you stand on the bow of the Zippy,” she said pointing at the lead boat. “You’re far enough away from the Do Nothing to feel the air a lot more unfiltered. That bite gets worse the closer we get to the center. I wouldn’t be surprised if even the Do Nothing will start to feel it before long.”
“Dark magic.” Rarity curled the edge of her lips in disgust. “Corruptive and clingy by nature. How long has it been here?”
“Since as far as the elders’ stories go. Originally, our order was founded to purge the dark taint, but we never had access to holy magic so all we could really do was to stop the Mirage from growing.”
Fluttershy gasped, and finally found the courage to join the conversation again. “By the Green Mother, I’ve never heard of any of this. I know we pride ourselves on independence from the civilized, but your order should have come to others for help. The other orders would have believed your story if they had foreknowledge of your ills.”
Snorting at the perceived insult, Rock Salt stood tall. “We Crookbacks are stronger than any of you other Orders. We had contained the evil of the Mirage for over a thousand years, and we would have done so for a thousand more of this Dark Father had not interfered. None of you knew of the darkness until I brought you here, roundabout or not.” He looked at Rarity with reverent respect. “But clearly we were misguided. I can’t blame you for serving one such as you, Sun Kissed one.”
Oh boy, I think he’s infatuated. Fluttershy might have chuckled at the idea if she were not with the present company.
Showing a pleased smile, Rarity nodded slightly. “Then I should introduce you to Queen Mi Amora Cadenza one day, for she is the embodiment of holiness, but do not discount our mechanically inclined brethren. They may wear their fear on their sleeve, but they’ve proven themselves to be quite resilient.” She leveled a coy eyebrow at the commander. “As vexing as that is.”
“You’re ah, kinder than I expected.” Turnabout rubbed a foreleg nervously. “We haven’t actually had a run in with the Pony of Shadows directly yet, so Rock thinks he is still trapped inside the Eye of Darkness; but not so much that he can’t influence the order, obviously. His description of it sounds a lot like a portal. I’m sure you’re well aware of how easy it is for us to destroy portals,” Turnabout stated with a snide grin as she slapped the engine’s casing.
Fluttershy and Rarity looked over the engine, but with the armor, they could only infer its size would befit an actual warship instead of a shallow water boat. “It should work,” Fluttershy offered. “But what if the seal breaks first?”
“What do you think all the guns are for?” Turnabout asked with a scoffing smirk. And if that ain’t enough we got three ten pounder parrott guns stored on the Zippy.”
“Parrott guns? In a militia?” Rarity scoffed in disbelief.
Feeling like she had said too much, Turnabout desired to go all in. “That’s right. We’re a lot better armed this time around. So when we settle our business here, ya better tell your masters to stay away.”
“All I will need to tell them is to treat your artillery batteries the same as the regular army. But let’s not distract ourselves with future concerns.”
“R-right.” Turnabout cleared her throat and turned to the pony manning the helm. “Wheelwright, fetch the map will ya?” Facing the Equestrians again she tried to center herself as much as possible while standing so close to Rarity. “If Rock’s map of the rivers is accurate, we should be at the village by moonfall.”
Rarity was largely uninterested in the map of the Mirage as a whole, given that she was not directing the expedition, but she paid polite attention until a few rifle cracks grabbed her attention.
The commotion ebbed as quickly as it came. A patrolling pegasus was lifting a body from a tree and flinging it as far away as he could without getting too far from the safety of the flotilla. “How frequent are the attacks?”
Turnabout muttered about ammunition before she acknowledged the question. “It was horrible the first week and a half. Lost our supply boat two days ago, a coal barge last night, and a dinghy we were using for Rock Salt so he had a lighter boat to command roots and things out of the way. The Zippy works well enough, but it can’t glide over inch deep water like the dinghy could. Thankfully, the Crookbacks have pulled back lately. My guess is that they’re fortifying the portal area.”
“Then I’d advise you to let as many soldiers rest as you can,” Rarity offered. “I have a feeling we will all need all the rest we can get.”
It took the Lunarians over an hour to calm down and return to duties. On the bow of the Zippy Rock Salt was singing the song of the wilds trying to remove the brambles and roots the Crookbacks had placed within and across the river to slow them down. Fluttershy glided low over the water and saw that the wood on the bow had metal plates crudely put in place and serious acid and fire damage was visible further back.
The wide river ahead of them only had a scattering of visible brambles in the way, but the water churned constantly as roots withdrew from the path. To Fluttershy’s trained ears, his song was that of begging and pleading. Promises of healing and subservience. Fluttershy gave a melancholy sigh. The Mirage is too damaged to be receptive to such things if not for the fact that he is a native to here.
Rock Salt eyed her with something between irritation and contempt in his eyes, but he kept it out of his voice. “Come to help?”
Nodding, she flew over to land behind him. “I thought you could use it.” She looked all around her, mostly at the thick reeds and trees. “Clearing the way for this long is remarkable. Do your friends understand how difficult it must have been?”
Rock growled and turned away so the boat was as far out of view as possible. “They are not my friends. They’re allies that I’ve had the dishonor of asking for help.” He huffed and kicked the plating beneath him, only for it to ring painfully. “They get it that it’s difficult, but the civilized can never understand the disgrace of bending the wilds to your designs. May the Green Mother forgive me.”
At first, Fluttershy said nothing. Then she silently nosed her way forward to the point on the bow, to which Rock Salt reluctantly stepped aside. Taking a long breath, she drew upon her connection to the world. The presence of the various machines in the floatilla made her efforts taxing, and at first she couldn’t pull on her abilities properly.
“It’s easier if you time it with the pounding of that machine,” Rock Salt offered bitterly. Though it was more of the engines’ existence than any insult directed at Fluttershy. “The quieting effect it has climbs and drops like a cricket song. They say it's because the flywheel is broken, whatever that means.”
Knowing what to look for now, Fluttershy smiled at the feeling. “It’s like the boat is breathing, or a heartbeat.”
“This thing is not alive,” Rock Salt spat, glaring at a crewmember who had stopped his duties to watch them. Rock lowered his voice so the sailor couldn’t hear him. “It’s an abomination. Just standing on it dirties my hooves.”
“It’s not healthy to immerse oneself in self loathing. The Green Mother favors those who can adapt,” Fluttershy stated sternly before facing the bow once more. She ignored his scoff to focus on her magic once more. Pull during the calm of the breath, and hold when the engine exhales. She found it much easier to summon her power now. Opening her eyes, she heard Rock Salt startle at her green glowing eyes.
The trees and plants before her were now being tugged back into place by a lone Crookback druid. It’d have to only be one since I can’t find her. Green Mother, let me be in the right.
Taking her own breath, Fluttershy bellowed her challenging roar. The magic infused shout caught both the wilds and the hidden druid by surprise. The Zippy’s crew were also drawn to watch.
Without stopping, Fluttershy continued her song, strong, aggressive, and demanding respect. Bold. The other druid, so used to Rock Salt’s style of song, could not overpower Fluttershy’s strength without attempting to shout over her, but that in turn caught the attention of the pegasus patrols. They quickly found the hidden druid and shot her on sight.
With no voice to challenge her and standing on the edge of the bow Fluttershy ended her song, “Άκου το κάλεσμά μου και θα κάνω το σκοτάδι να εξαφανιστεί από τις ρίζες σου. Καθαρίστε το μονοπάτι και μείνετε ήσυχοι.”
The roots fled out of the way like frightened snakes. Brambles recoiled and the trees themselves leaned away from the river’s path. Such movement rankled Fluttershy’s sensibilities, but she had to remain strong for her message to persist deeper into the Mirage.
“How could you?” Rock Salt asked with incredulous anger. “We don’t command the wilds! You’re worse than the civilized, at least they are deaf to the song of the wilds.”
Keeping a sympathetic tone, Fluttershy did not rise to match his fury. “And yet the Mirage heeded my words over the other.” She got some guilty satisfaction at the young stallion being left speechless. “We druids have always prided ourselves in being one with nature, and yet our pride blinded us to the truth. The Green Mother is not in the wood, the wild beast, the insect, nor the sea. She is the architect of all of it.” She snorted at her old self. “Architect, a word the civilized coined, and yet it fits the Green Mother so well. And like any mother, she wants us to grow strong and independent.”
Peering out at the plants surrounding the river, Rock Salt couldn’t help but to be moved at how much it all bent to Fluttershy’s song. “Is that the blasphemy that got you banished?”
“In part.” Tilting her head a bit, Fluttershy pulled her mane aside so she could look at him with both eyes. “Would you care to listen?”
Be it through Fluttershy’s efforts, or the late hour, the flotilla was left alone shortly before dusk. The moon was high and full now, bathing Rarity in a light she couldn’t find comforting. The stench of burning coal, the rattle of the deck the engine caused, even in its low power state, and she felt every eye upon her. Can’t really blame them. How often does one see a feared enemy that is not actively fighting you?
Sleep called to her, and despite her own advice, she couldn’t manage it. Nearby snoring rattled her ears a bit as Lock Stock found no such trouble. The one comfort was Lyra’s music. She was sitting on her sleeping mat, plucking away with her hooves. It was a comforting thing in a sea of hostility. Turning away from the darkened swamp, she eyed the civilian-soldiers and sailors. Not one dared approach her. That one time they could talk to an Inquisitor without risk, and they refuse… Would I do the same in their place?
As if to challenge that though, hoofsteps heralded a voice worn thin by a lifetime of oration. “Inquisitor, may I trouble you with some foreign company?”
Lyra’s music stopped and Rarity turned to find an old thestral with black cloth covering his eyes, and a crude prosthetic right foreleg. He wore only a simple black tunic, save for a medallion hanging off of a silver chain Rarity had seen in her training, a black disk with silver points latched to a blue ribbon. The sight of it brought a mechanical scowl to her face. Of all the ponies to approach me. I’d rather shake hooves with a leper. “You have some nerve wearing that near me, Bearer of the Eclipse.” Rarity couldn’t stop herself from flipping her nose up.
Only a warm, fatherly chuckle left him. He clicked his tongue a couple of times, his ears twitched, and then he sat down next to Rarity as if he belonged there.
Lyra sat up in her hammock and angrily pointed back the way he came. “Take the hint, old timer. Scram.”
“I do not wear this to provoke you, Inquisitor, but this is my favorite sitting spot and these old bones need a rest.” His reassuring tone gave way to a half-hearted chuckle. “Of course, a broken down old stallion and a metal hardly means anything in the face of a living Inquisitor when it comes to hearts and minds, now does it? I’m only here because I’m the Chaplin.”
“You mean on this expedition or seated next to me?”
He only smiled in silence. His face and ears kept forward, taking in the sounds of crickets, frogs and other sounds of the night.
After a long moment, Rarity relented and waved at Lyra to return to her music. Be at peace. Insults should be expected, show them you are not a petulant child.
Though Lyra continued plinking away at her instrument, she kept a close eye on both of them. After a minute or so of the blind stallion remaining passive and Rarity slipped into silent prayer, Lyra settled back down as well and started playing her favorite melody.
Eventually, it was the Lunarian who broke the peace. He looked up as if he could see the moon above. “Thank you for this, Inquisitor.”
Being caught at the end of one prayer, she delayed the next to direct a curious eye at him. “For what, pray tell.”
“That two ponies who have every reason to hate one another can share peace between them.”
His honesty cut her in a way that left Rarity without words. Taking a second real look at him, the stallion bore a few other deep scars. Are all of those injuries from his battle with my brother or sister? Feeling like she was being rude with such a long pause, she looked away feeling chastised. “A pity we have adopted such animosity, but it is the hallmark of our times.”
Humming in morose agreement, the stallion idly scratched at the prosthetic's attachment point. “I had always planned to be a glassblower when I was a colt.” He smiled as fond memories flooded him, undiminished by time. “My mother showed me how to make everything from exquisite pots to stained glass windows. It was my dream that one of my windows would decorate the palace in Tranquility, maybe even a house in Canterlot should my craft become famous enough.”
His smile faded. “Living in Manehatten, and being so close to Equestria, I thought… well. Everypony knows what happened there. I’m sure you’ve heard similar stories from your side of the border too. A pony’s home is destroyed, swears revenge and goes head first into war.”
The following silence lasted uncomfortably long, as Lyra stopped playing after hearing that, but he sat through it all with the patience of a mountain. Eventually, Rarity spoke up. “My mentor, Radiant Dawn was being groomed to take over his father’s carpentry shop. When war came to Rainbow Falls, he got separated from his parents and never found them again. When his magical aptitude was discovered he joined the Inquisition. He often told me…” She huffed dismissively. “Much the same things you have told yourself I’d imagine.”
“If that’s the case,” he started worriedly. “He - well, I’ll not speak ill of somepony I haven’t met. I can only speak for myself, and it took me eighty years to let go of my rage. You might say I was blinded by it as much as the one who claimed my eyes.” He laughed heartily at his own expense.
Rarity was about to say something when the stallion cut in. “That hate. It ruined me, you know, more than just my body. I found no love, only had friends who shared my hate. I gladly took part in speeches condemning Equestria and all its faults. I became known as the blind speaker.”
“The Blind Speaker?!” Lyra nearly flipped herself out of her hammock. “Ma’am, I’ve heard of him. The theater used a few of his speeches for the villains.”
He laughed uproariously and slapped the deck. “As well they should be. I had some fire in me back then.”
“So what changed then?” Rarity looked around, spotting a pair of eavesdroppers. What it was, he doesn’t seem to hide it. “The weight of your years cooling the firebrand?”
He clicked his teeth a few times. The Speaker’s ears twisted to the eavesdroppers’ hiding spot, but he made no other show of it. “In part perhaps. Mostly it is a question that has bothered me ever since Mi Amore Cadence appeared.”
“A crisis of faith then?” Lyra offered with almost a snide ring to her voice. “Thinking about defecting?”
Ignoring the jab with a playful snort, he pressed on. “I think not. But tell me. Does she hear prayers?”
Rarity went stiff, and Lyra dropped the derisive posturing for one of genuine interest. An undesired memory shot to the forefront of Rarity’s mind. It was a day in court then a priest asked Cadence the same thing. At this moment, Rarity could lie to the old thestral. But that too felt like a betrayal.
Drawing in a long sigh she eventually shook her head. “No, she does not.”
“And yet Celestia as your witness, you affirm that Mi Amore Cadenza is no less holy than her?”
“What are you trying to say, old timer?” Lyra growled with lightning fury, and got off her hammock to confront him. “That our queen is a fraud?!”
Rarity pressed a hoof into the musician’s chest to restrain her. “Lyra Heartstrings,” she stated coldly. “I hired you for many reasons. Acting with the mental faculties of an angry mob was not one of them.”
“Luna doesn’t answer me either,” he said, having not moved an inch to defend himself.
Lyra stopped in bewilderment of such an admission, and Rarity was no less stunned he would admit such a thing.
“They say only those of the cloth can hear her voice. I was ordained shortly after being discharged from the air corps. I thought if I dedicated myself to her cause I could hear her one day. But it never happened. The leading theory was the place the Sisters went to made hearing and responding nearly impossible. But then Cadenza arrived.
“I thought surely, even if she knew I was Lunarian that she would still respond. Tell me to abandon my country, command me to renounce Luna, or at least ask me to make peace.” He shook his head, yet his smile did not fade entirely. “But nothing. No visions, no words, no dreams.”
The conversation lapsed a bit. Rarity shared a questioning look with Lyra until some pieces fell into place within her mind. Nor have I ever heard neither Celestia nor Cadenza. Speaking such aloud would be blasphemous. Thinking it was nearly as bad. “Are you trying to say if Mi Amore Cadenza can not hear you, that the Sisters can’t either?”
“It was our idea to pray to them after all. Luna never asked or wanted such things.”
Both mares were left stunned, and it took Lyra several seconds to find her voice. “What are you talking about? We’ve always prayed to them starting back in the three tribes era. First when we needed a single voice to unite us, and then after the Strife War to beseech them.”
“Your insinuations are most troubling.” Rarity was fuming now, and it was difficult to keep from silencing him then and there. Had he been an Equestrian, she’d’ve arrested him in a heartbeat. “Take care, Blind Speaker. Such talk is heretical to both churches.” She glanced back at the eavesdroppers, and they too were showing signs of outrage. I’d wager the only thing holding them back is them wanting to see how I’ll react. Wait… is this a test? To try and provoke me into breaking the accord while I am so close to the engine?
“Aye.” He quirked his ears backwards, having noticed the number of eavesdroppers was growing. “But I have searched the imperial archives and forbidden libraries. These prayers started as divination spells trying to locate Luna before their purpose was forgotten and usurped. The Lunar church likes to say it was founded before the Great Schism, but it's true age is one hundred years after it. Those records say the Solar faith was reactionary to that.”
Rarity’s aloof, feigned indifference evaporated instantly. Only her self control kept her temper in check. She huffed scornfully and let her gaze shift towards Lyra. “And here I thought we were having a civil conversation.”
The musician was grinding her teeth trying to restrain herself. “I told you. Lunatics can’t help themselves, but to blaspheme against Celestia.”
“But to do the same against Luna herself?” Rarity added, drawing a moment of realization out of Lyra. “You tread upon dangerous ground, Speaker.”
“It would hardly be the first time I’ve been there,” he replied calmly, his ears still directed at the crowd. Astonished whispers were quickly giving way to anger. “But tell me, how can Luna profane against herself?”
“Where are you going with this,” Lyra asked scornfully as eyes the crowd with impatience. “Besides the gallows?”
“I am old and the church would never hang a ‘bearer of an eclipse’. I’ll be quietly put under house arrest until I recant. But as for right now, ask yourself. Banishment is one half teleportation is it not? What happens to portals that are disrupted, but not destroyed? The exit moves. I believe the Sisters have been trapped on this earth for the last one thousand years. In what form I do not know. I have asked my old colleagues and contacts to look into this. Some agreed, many didn’t. What they can not do is search Equestrian land. So when you decided to show up out of the blue, I had to act.”
Mulling it over, the inquisitor eyed Lyra who wasn’t thinking outside of thrashing the blind old pony. “Fine, I’ll play Discord’s Defense. Assuming I go along with this, and look for them on my own. Let’s say I do find the sisters. What’s stopping me from leaving Luna in banishment, or having her clapped in irons and paraded through the streets while Celestia is free to reign once more?”
“Your honor, you can’t be seriously-“ Lyra hiss-whispered before Rarity cut her off with a gesture.
“Quite simple really.” Blind Speaker let his smile grow wide. “Because Celestia wouldn’t let you.”
At this point, there were eight eavesdroppers poorly hiding behind a few crates, and some of them jumped out to protest, yet he spoke first in a hushed whisper. “We hate each other, Inquisitor, but we are a product of history. The Sisters, despite their disagreements and fights, still loved each other. I fully believe if you freed Celestia, that she would order you to let Luna go as well.”
Sisterly love, Rarity mused with forlorn melancholy if she and Sweetie Belle were in similar positions. “I suspect you’d be right.”
Turnabout barked her way into the middle of the evesdroppers, at last making Rarity and the others acknowledge the group of six that had gathered behind them. “You lot! What in Luna’s stars is going on with all you? Get back on watch or to your bunks, and quit lollygagging at the Inquisitor!”
“Ma’am,” an earth stallion nearly shouted. “Speaker is spouting heresy to the nuckelavee!” He angrily pointed a hoof at the aged thestral.
A round of agreeing growls rang out, yet before Turnabout could even think about how to respond, Blind Speaker’s demeanor changed entirely into the fire and vitriol he was better known for. He clicked his teeth before spinning around as fast as his aged bones could muster. “Damn you stupid fools! First you allow a nuckelavee into our midst, and now you’re trying to stop me from provoking her?!”
The mob of soldiers were stunned to silence, while Rarity and Lyra kept a careful eye on them all. Turnabout took his outburst personally and stepped up to him. “Speaker, I told you to stay away from her.”
“And why’s that?!” Blind Speaker seethed, swiped a hoof at them all. “She’s an abomination! A devil in pony skin!” With the same hoof he held his eclipse metal aloft. “Peace be damned, we have an inquisitor sitting right here next to an engine and none of you are putting a bullet between her eyes just because we’re still at peace? Who would know?”
“We need her when we move the engine to the portal!” Turnabout retorted, further sending the crowd into inaction. “We’re already down to half strength and now when Luna sent us the one thing that might actually let all of us get out of this thrice-cursed swamp alive, and you want to piss her off!?”
Blind Speaker didn’t face her, but instead walked around Turnabout to address the crowd directly. “Even if she does help us end the Dark Father threat, do any of you honestly think she’ll let us leave stripeless? Which would you prefer? Death or slavery?!”
Rarity was incensed, and stood up to challenge him in a holier-than-thou tone. “I would think somepony of your age would remember the Treaty of Broken Arrows. You can despise me all you like, it makes no difference to me, but I will respect our foremothers’ wisdom in honoring the accord we struck today.”
Turnabout almost sighed in relief that of all ponies, Rarity was trying to help her shut Blind Speaker down. “As will we-”
Shoving the commander aside to glare at Rarity with covered eyes, Blind Speaker shouted with spittle flying. “Oh that’s rich, you speak to me of remembering old history? How about when the solar church abhorred the very concept of enslavement! Bet your truncated education skipped that little part didn’t it?”
Though she kept an outwardly irate insulted glower, a small, minuscule part of Rarity was left curious. No. I don’t know what games he’s playing, but I’ll have no part in it. “How trite. You attack my faith when you can not attack my person?” Removing Blind Speaker from her gaze entirely, she addressed Turnabout with her nose dismissively in the air. “Commander, I realize I can’t hold a militia up to army standards, but there comes a time when discipline is needed. I suggest you mete it out before I do.”
“To think I’d have to be agreeing with an Inquisitor.” Shaken from her inaction, Turnabout grabbed Speaker’s tunic and bodily dragged him through the crowd who parted without a fuss. Many of them were left conflicted about what to do other than disperse. “Honored Speaker, since we don’t have a brig, you are hereby restricted to the barge until we make it back home.”
Speaker did not resist, save to drag his hooves until he was pulled out of sight. “Fine, let us all get striped. I’m sure when all of you bear the red, she’ll let you remember my warning!”
With the spectacle over, and the crowd thinning rapidly, Rarity huffed and retreated to her hammock, only to find Lock Stock had slept through the whole thing. Nothing short of an artillery barrage for this one.
Moving her dreadfully straight hair aside so she could lay down comfortably, Rarity was left staring up at the unfriendly stars. She would have ruminated in silence had Lyra not leaned against the pole near the head of Rarity’s hammock.
“Ma’am, you alright?”
Letting her head fall to the side so she could see Lyra face to face, Rarity couldn’t help but smile a little at the musician’s concern. “Fret not, just tired. Though I must admit that debate against a Lunarian was not very high on my Instructors’ curriculum.”
“Well I certainly won’t be thinking about his delusions. The Sun is the only truth that matters.”
“And let not one cloud cast its doubt,” Rarity answered with firm conviction.
Satisfied, Lyra shuffled off to her sleeping bag on the floor for much needed rest.
Rarity however, was left restless for hours as that small cloud of doubt refused to be burned away.