When Rarity set hoof on land again, cobblestone was not what she was expecting. Stepping off the cargo barge, she was overtaken by sailors carrying ropes tying them down to any outcropping or tree they could use to pull the barge as firmly against the algae covered ledge as possible.
Both she and her retinue trotted further ashore to stay out of the way as they studied what laid before them. Fluttershy frowned at the obvious village that laid before her in the morning light.
The dock had moss and grasses deeply rooted into the crumbling cement, but the stones didn’t budge under the weight of their hooves. Rusted metal fixings were the last echoes of the wooden docks that had been lost to time. The cobblestone road curved to the right where mounds of grass were left uncut. It only took a cursory look from the air for Fluttershy to recognize the mounds were actually overgrowth-covered houses due to slanted roofs and the occasional chimney that still stood out from the greenery. Situated at the top of a slight incline, barely perceivable from the docks before the upper reaches of the mists obscured her sight, was a light grey statue of two ponies mounted on a short obelisk near the water well.
Grass and moss took up every space where ferns, reeds, and trees could not fit, but no one missed the homes and buildings for what they were.
Lyra was the first to speak with a pleasant enough tone. “Finally, some greenery that I could eat without feeling nauseous.”
“I could use a bite myself,” Lock Stock added with a nod. “Maybe some thousand island dressing topped with some bacon bits and shredded cheese.”
“Put in some croutons too. Oh sweet Celestia, yum.” Lyra had to keep herself from going back to the boat to rummage around Lock Stock’s bag for just that.
Earning a disapproving evil eye from Rarity, the inquisitor couldn’t help but to voice her concerns. “ I find your cavalier attitude towards an obvious trap a little… disconcerting.”
If the pair felt reprimanded, they were excellent at hiding it, because Lyra waved a dismissive hoof at the village. “Of course it’s a trap, your honor, but they’re not going to spring it until we walk in.”
Rarity felt the need to argue, but came up short.
Having missed the exchange, Turnabout was belting out a few orders before she came alongside the Equestrians. She had a group of seven soldiers with her, the uniform of each one was clean and smart as if prepared for an inspection. Six of them had long guns while the lone unicorn carried a pair of swords to protect the gunners. “Inquisitor.” She eyed the Equestrians with poorly veiled worry. “Are you sure this plan of yours will work? Rock said there’d be ruins to clear a path through, but not a still living… place.”
Giving Turnabout the courtesy of looking at her briefly, Rarity’s main focus remained the village. “I am having doubts myself.” She paused to sniff the air, “saturated with purifying magic… Not holy. Whatever it’s source, it is as ancient as Equestria itself. It will also keep me from recharging my wards. Lovely.”
As the group discussed the odd findings, Rock Salt had been below deck, not willing to face what would be waiting. Yet as soon as he saw the green village ahead of them, he stood in stunned shock. “It..?” He took a few steps forward, nearly getting bulled over by a distracted crewman in the process. “It’s all still here!?”
Desperation clouded his judgement. Rock Salt ignored everyone else and sprinted off the boat, making a beeline for the village.
The sound of his frantic hooves made him the center of attention for Rarity and Turnabout’s troops. One of the militia stallions hastily passed his long gun over to a friend before roping a foreleg around the frantic druid to hold him back. “Whoa there, fella, you’re not runnin’ that easy.”
“Let me go! I have to know if anypony survived!” Rock Salt scrabbled to get out of the iron grip of the soldier, resorting to singing to try and get vines or anything to aid his escape. Yet between the proximity of the boat, and Fluttershy’s presence, nothing came to his aid.
Turnabout crisply nodded at the soldier. “Good job, Wheat Stock.” She leveled a much sterner glare at the flailing druid. “You better start talking. You had us believing we’d be walking into a cesspit.”
Rock Salt barely listened as he struggled to get free. The moment he threw his head forward to try and bite the soldier’s foreleg, he got a sharp headbutt for his troubles. That knocked enough sense into him to realize he wasn’t getting free. So he resorted to speaking hastily and scornfully at the commander. “I thought we would be! The Dark Father must not have been able to get them to destroy the Protectors.”
Rarity had been content to let Turnabout handle things thus far, but now her curiosity was peaked. “Destroy? Not kill?”
Trying and failing to wiggle out of the soldier’s grip again, he was left to simply growl in anger at his captor. “The Protectors is a statue of two mares. No pony knows why, but they give off an aura of cleansing magic in a big enough area to keep the village safe from the Dark Father’s influence. The village is the only thing left to remind us that the Mirage used to be a forest, not a swamp.”
Where others were surprised by his tale, Fluttershy was incensed. She made a feeble attempt to bottle it up, and glared at the young stallion. “You let a forest decay into this!?” She asked with a quiet anger while waving a wing at the morass behind them. “Even the Roan would ask outsiders for help, like when we needed more food than the land could provide or-”
“I only asked outsiders because I was all that was left, and preserving the wilds outside of the Mirage matter more than my honor,” Rock Salt shot back with no attempt to hide his contempt. “But your order condons asking outsiders?!”
Getting defensive for Fluttershy’s sake, Lock Stock stepped between them. “Which is something you lot should’a done ages ago. Face it, your pride left a forest to rot into the Mirage.”
Nearly foaming at the mouth with rage, Rock Salt renewed his efforts to get free, only now to attack Lock Stock. Upon realizing that, it took monumental discipline on Wheat Stock’s part to keep from letting the thrashing druid go to do just that.
“We don’t have time for pointless bickering.” Rarity walked up to Rock Salt and slapped him hard against the cheek. The sudden act made him freeze and look at her while rubbing his bruise. “A pity you didn’t finish your rite of passage so you could stop behaving like a child. Focus on the here and now, and tend to your pride after we resolve matters here.”
Rock stopped struggling, and the soldier released him after a nod from Turnabout. He rubbed his sore cheek, but didn’t dare scowl at the one mare everyone else was scared of. “Yes, ma’am.”
“Good.” Satisfied for the moment, Rarity turned to the head Lunarian. “Commander Turnabout, the attacks have ceased since we joined you. The enemy has clearly decided to pull back and make their stand on solid ground. You agree?”
Turnabout kepting looking out over the green village, her voice barely containing growing fear. “Aye, I do.”
Following the officer’s gaze for a moment to see if a threat had revealed itself. Seeing no movement, Rarity refocused on the mare. “Then we will go and clear the way to the portal before the engine leaves the boats.”
The slow clunk of metal from within the cargo barge signaled the slow awakening of the engine. While Rarity finalized her plans with Turnabout, Fluttershy snuck a peek at what had been hidden within by flying above everyone’s heads. The crew were done pulling off the hastily fastened metal skirts to reveal a heavily modified train engine. Oh my, that’s one of the war engines Lock Stock said they used in the last war!
Instead of narrow rail wheels, this one had been altered to have wide, thickly spoked wheels, and also had something akin to an artillery piece’s limber on the back to steer the thing. The druid had to pin her wings to keep herself from leaving Rarity’s side to get a closer look as the engine groaned on greased gears. It's like a warhound. Gentle and loyal to its friends, but a danger to their enemies. Her excitement took a downturn as she remembered one important fact. Oh. Right. That would normally be me.
“Fluttershy.”
Rarity’s expectant voice snapped the druid from her musing. She dropped back to the ground and faced her superior. “Yes, ma’am?”
“Take point. There’s an ambush waiting for us; and we need to flush it out so the train…” Rarity eyed the machine warily, but kept going, “has a straight shot.”
“Right away.”
Turnabout clicked her tongue and gestured for Rock Salt to step up. “Go join her. Maybe seeing a familiar face will keep any survivors from attacking us.”
All too eager to return home, Rock Salt went out of his way to shove his way past the soldier that had restrained him earlier. “Finally!” His sprint forward came to a stop after seeing the mildly sour look on Fluttershy’s face. He grumbled at her and tried to not make eye contact.
Rarity, her retainers, and Turnabout’s squad walked the short distance between the ruined docks and the edges of the first green grass any of them had seen in over a week. It was almost unsettling how clean the air felt. The lush green vines holding one house together felt almost welcoming to the group of outsiders.
Almost immediately after crossing the perimeter of the village did they find signs of battle. Laid about along the footpaths and inside some of the homes were the bleached skeletons of ponies. The smell of death was starkly absent, leaving the living in a surreal state. Lock Stock approached the nearest intact skeleton with a grim expression. He gingerly inspected it while Lyra and the Lunarian medic poked at a badly decomposed set of bones barely two feet away. Of them all, Rock Salt had fallen placid and emotionally vacant, yet his reddening eyes betrayed him.
“I don’t know what to make of this, Inquisitor,” Lock Stock said after inspecting a femur. “The flesh is completely gone, not even the marrow remains, but the bone itself looks like it’s still from an otherwise living pony.”
Normally not one to disturb the dead, Rarity begrudgingly accepted the femur into her magic for study. “The flesh is gone, but the bone remains…” At first, she turned to Rock Salt to seek his council, but the young stallion’s almost catatonic expression made her leave him be. “I am reminded of a cautionary tale inquisitorial initiates are told about Raven Darkhowl. A magus of profound power in the pre-schism years.”
Turnabout shivered a bit at the name. “The first necromancer?” When Rarity nodded in surprised approval, Turnabout couldn’t take much satisfaction out of it and returned to watching out for dangers.
“The first known to history, at least. He created a plague among some rampaging diamond dogs that turned those it infected into puppets of his will, and it used the victim’s flesh to propagate the spell.” Disgust souring the taste in her mouth, Rarity dropped the bone. “I’d wager the Protectors are keeping the Dark Father from taking the victim’s mind, but the spell still eats at the flesh until nothing is left. And quickly too. We should be grateful he doesn’t seem to want skeletal minions.”
Rock Salt snapped out of it upon hearing ‘Dark Father’ and flattened his ears in growing sorrow and rage. “Is that his real name? Raven Darkhowl?”
“Not a chance,” Turnabout cut in. “He was killed in the War of Independence.”
“I was not familiar with how he died,” Rarity stated, letting Turnabout’s statement go as fact. “But what’s important here is that the plague was the first thing he created. Meaning it is easy. Whoever the Dark Father is, he clearly has power, but not much knowledge.”
“Just enough to be dangerous,” Turnabout replied.
“Indeed.” Humming irritably, Rarity surveyed the homes around her. “We mustn't tarry any longer. I take it your soldiers have been surveying our route.”
Briefly scowling at the perceived condescension, Turnabout looked to the only soldier who had been paying more attention to the homes and blanketing plants than the skeletons. The earth pony was almost enraptured by his findings. “Cream Corn, how are we looking?”
Cream Corn jumped at his name being called, nearly dropping his rifle in the process before he corrected himself. “These paths are too narrow for a carriage, let alone a train. It’ll never roll through here until we widen it all. Good news is, the ground feels like sturdy bedrock just under the soil.”
Turnabout’s eyes kept darting at shadows that always seemed to disappear the moment she focused on them. “That could take days just removing the roots and vines. Rock Salt, any chance the engine can go around?”
Rock Salt had been doing his utmost to control himself and avoid even looking in Fluttershy’s direction that the query was as good of an excuse to continue as any for a distraction. “No. The Protectors’ influence allowed a large island of sorts for the village to remain untouched, but the edge of the solid ground around the village is too narrow for your machine.”
“We should go see these Protectors,” Rarity suggested without expecting a refusal. “I would very much like to see the statue for myself before we go about uprooting anything. A fool is one who ignores power.”
Fluttershy gently took to the air to save room on the claustrophobic path and to make sure she didn’t bump into any remains. “I second the motion. I’d like to see more of a druid town before it gets demolished. The Roan preferred caves instead of building houses.”
To that, Rock Salt snorted defensively and trotted off, leaving the others to quicken the pace. Turnabout wasn’t about to look like she was subordinate to an Equestrian, much less an inquisitor and gave orders to the nearest soldier. “Lake Shine, tell the boys back at the Zippy to get some mallets and axes out and start clearing what the train can’t roll over. Ferris, leave some breadcrumb cuts so the crew knows what direction to take. Make them big in case the plants around here heal faster than usual.”
It didn’t take long to find the statue. The group threaded past overgrown cobblestone and houses so covered in moss and vines they could be mistaken for burial mounds. They will be if the Crookbacks were like the Roan. As Fluttershy flew above the group and the houses, the unsettling silence of the place made it all feel surreal. No bird song or crickets. Even in winter my order asked birds and other animals to remain, but here there is nothing. I hope the Dark Father didn’t harm the animals too. There was a flicker of hope struggling to stay as she looked for any damage to the plants, but everything looked healthy and green. Were it not for the bones, one would never know this had ever been anything but a peaceful place.
Looking out over the village, the cleansing effect of the Protectors parted the mists for a hundred yards all around it, giving the illusion that they were under a dome of fog.
Finally, they arrived at the only clearing in the village large enough for the train to move through unimpeded. Propped up on a vine covered brass pedestal was a marble statue of two ponies. To the unicorns of the group, the Protectors exuded a gentle pressure that felt like someone was lightly holding their horns with a warm towel. For the rest, it smelled vaguely of old sterile plastic.
Rock Salt broke ranks and sprinted to the Protectors as soon as he laid eyes on it. Rarity and Turnabout approached the statue while the inquisitor turned to her companions. “Lock, Lyra, keep watch on the perimeter. Commander?” Rarity asked expectantly.
Aside from some irritation out of Turnabout, she saw the merit in it. “GC, watch our exit. The rest of you cover the path north.”
Rarity’s attention lasted just long enough to hear the orders before focusing on the Protectors.
Stepping up to it, Rock Salt was busy whispering to some of the vines and moss that had started growing up from the brass base and onto the statue itself. The plant life reluctantly withdrew from such prime real estate, but stubbornly remained on the pedestal no matter how insistent he sang.
Fluttershy was the first to stand at his side. Though she felt strangely drawn to the statue out of more than simple curiosity. “Do they have names?”
Had anyone else been there, Rock Salt would have answered the question, but it being the blasphemous druid only made him snap. “Don’t you start with me!” He growled, becoming more incensed when Fluttershy did flinch at his outburst. “The houses were here before my ancestors took to the wilds. We only asked the plants and stone to keep them from collapsing, alright?! We’re not the same as you.”
“There’s nothing wrong with that,” Fluttershy started kindly enough. Rock Salt started to interject, but a fire within Fluttershy kept her from being talked over. “Birds have different beaks to better eat what food their home offers, it’s only natural each order would differ as well.”
Confusion washed over Rock Salt, and he held her gaze for a moment. “I… still don’t understand you.”
“Naturally,” Fluttershy replied with no judgment. “The other orders don’t wish to know the Green Mother’s nature. When you have lived a lie for as long as the orders have existed, accepting the truth can be so very painful.” She looked away from him to focus on the deathly silent village with a sad frown. “I wonder how different things could be if your elders followed your example much earlier.”
Rock Salt huffed angrily. “The civilized aren’t here to save the swamp or my order, just themselves. If the Crookbacks were still alive, Turnabout would have just told us the Dark Father’s our problem.”
“Are you sure?” With an air of calm grace, Fluttershy lowered her head a bit to be eye level. “In the Macintosh Woods, there lives the honey leaf tree. When a caterpillar eats its leaves, the tree gives off a smell that lures in wasps who destroy the caterpillar. The wasps don’t care about the tree, but they save the plant all the same.”
The young stallion was left baffled at first. His brow furrowed and his eyes went distant with thought. He stood there for a long moment, his mind thankfully distracted from the deep loss surrounding him.
“Boy!” Rarity called from the other side of the statue. Rock Salt nearly fell over at the instinctual authority she held and scrambled to show himself. Fluttershy did the same with forlorn frustration.
Rarity’s attention rested squarely on the stone ponies’ faces and destiny marks. He could feel carefully controlled power from her like a brilliant light. His haste was borne more from fear than respect, but the distance between those two forces was not that large. Rock Salt fumbled his words after revealing himself, “Yes, ma’am?”
“Tell me you have names for these mares besides just ‘The Protectors’.” The inquisitor was incensed, but still held tight reins on her temper.
Turnabout’s soldiers had only given a passing look over the statue and were more interested in watching Rarity for any sudden moves. Turnabout had been busy tearing away vines covering the pedestal in search of a plaque that she had not yet studied the statue itself. All of them gave Rarity a concerned look at the prospect of her temper rising.
“N-no.” Rock Salt stuttered out, knowing it was not what Rarity wanted to hear. “The elders said they were symbols of power since no pony has both wings and a horn.”
Grumbling with supreme disapproval, Rarity gestures to Turnabout. “Commander, please tell me I am not the only one here with eyes. Tell the class who they are.”
Raising a curious eyebrow at the strange reason to get upset, Turnabout studied the statues. “Both are alicorns and-” She tilted her head as the shorter one’s destiny mark came into view. “It can’t be.” Quickly, she looked to the other stone mare’s mark. “It’s Luna and Celestia?!” Turnabout completely missed Rarity’s satisfaction as the soldier almost shoved her face into Rock Salt’s own. “Just how old is this village?!”
“I don’t know. More moons than the elders bothered to keep up with. I just know the Protectors are not as old as the village itself.”
All of the non-druids within earshot bowed to their respective patron and offered short prayers. For a few precious moments. Turnabout forgot herself and renewed her digging for a plaque. “Do you realize what kind of find this is? We need this statue in a museum so it can be properly cared for.”
“That won’t be happening, sad to say,” Rarity stated, earning displeasure from those around her. “Look at how intricate the pose is.”
Indeed, the stone sisters were locked in eternal combat. Luna was crouched low with her wings flared as if she was preparing to plunge her horn directly into Celestia’s chest. The solar sister was slightly reared up with warplate covering her from hoof to tail. Their mutual gaze was locked on the other. What bound the sisters together were six stone orbs, three in stationary orbit around each sister’s head. When Rarity tried to pull on one of the orbs, dense spiderweb lines of mana materialized, blanketing the entire construct.
“These orbs and the magics involved would make separating the sisters impossible without destroying the whole ensemble,” Rarity began, and was quick to wave a cutting hoof towards Turnabout. “You might as well drop any pretense of historical significance here. I won’t have Celestia’s image be desecrated by heretics.”
“The Blinded One though she may be, Celestia is still Luna’s sister,” Turnabout shot back with some fire, earning a stern, uncompromising scowl from Rarity. “But we can worry about this after the Dark Father is dealt with.”
For a long, tense moment, Rarity was silent as she scrutinized Turnabout. The commander had to keep herself from recoiling away; a normally healthy response to causing an Inquisitor irritation. The Lunarians quickly took notice and held their weapons close, while Rarity’s group prepared to defend themselves without overtly drawing their weapons. “... Agreed,” Rarity responded at last with a curt nod. “Coming to blows only serves the enemy,” she started again, as if she had expected this outcome. “Instead you make sure the route between the Sisters and the boat is clear so the war engine can arrive unmolested. I will lend you Fluttershy’s aid in removing the foliage.” She cast an eye towards Rock Salt. The young stallion was doing his best to appear emotionally controlled, but only the willfully obtuse would think he had an iota of inner calm. “We should leave the poor lad some time to grieve.”
Sound advice though it was, Turnabout couldn’t help but to feel the need to suggest something else. Rarity repeatedly giving what both mares thought was a solid course action to take, along with the inquisitor’s words now fully backed by her unsuppressed power left the commander feeling that she should take the victory she earned and leave it at that for now. “Sounds good. But the village isn't that big. We should secure the whole place; make sure there aren’t any surprises.”
Much to Turnabout’s chagrin, Rarity didn’t even hesitate to think the plan through, as if this had been her real design. “If you can spare the ponypower then by all means. I’ll survey the route Rock Salt mapped out to the edge of the village. That should be the most dangerous.”
With a farewell nod, Turnabout backed away a few steps before turning around and sharing some tense words with her bodyguards before sending them off. She waved Rock Salt towards her before sending the druid off back towards the landing site.
With the Lunarians stepping away, Fluttershy approached Rarity with a touch of worried caution. “We’re not going to fight them over the statue are we?” At first, all she got out of Rarity was a quizzical eye. “I mean, the statue is important, but it doesn’t belong to us.”
Rarity gave a feminine snort and turned away. “As if it wasn’t readily apparent, if we don’t take it, the Lunarians will.” Rarity paced a bit to think. “We don’t have the means to safely transport it back to Equestria unlike the Lunarians. Even if I was versed in portal construction, I would still need to contact my superiors so they could set up the other end. All of which would take far too much time.”
“Yes, ma’am,” was all Fluttershy could think to say. I just hope the Lunarians agree to that. “If I may, I’d like to make sure Rock Salt doesn’t try to suppress his grief through work.”
Rarity stopped pacing, and was reminded of her offering Fluttershy’s aid. A regretful frown followed Rarity’s ears wilting. “I apologize. That was callous of me. Please, make sure the lad has somewhere quiet.”
Nodding her head, Fluttershy’s first thought was to ease her friend’s burden. You carry so many and will many more. She placed a comforting hoof on Rarity’s withers, an act even even Lyra and Lock Stock were scared to do. “You are the shining light among those in the dark. You had to be strong and decisive. None of us would fault you for that. I dare say Lock Stock will claim you were too kind.”
Rarity’s gaze just so happened to be at an empty window. Her mind conjured a nebulous pony’s face. The one in shadow can see clearly what the light blinds me to.
In an instant she was appalled by the blasphemous thought. Resolving to pray in penance later, she hid her self-chastisement by giving a friendly nod and smile to her lieutenant. “If anypony is guilty of being too kind, it would be you.” Rarity dearly wished to hug her closest friend, but watchful Lunarians would then see her vulnerability. So she had to settle for briefly leaning against the pegasus. “Speaking of which, would you kindly summon our compatriots to me before you leave?”
“Right away.”
As soon as Fluttershy turned away, Rarity threw up a magical mask to make it appear to those beyond a few feet of her that she was as stoic as ever. In reality she heaved a heavy sigh and let her eyes close. Forgive me, Celestia for my wayward thoughts.
Being reminded of her patron caused her to look once again at the statue. Bereft of others around her, she could focus on it more clearly and absently dropped her magic mask. I can’t put my hoof on it, but there’s something off here. In all my years, I can’t say I’ve seen a statue of the Two Sisters without Luna appearing as the villain. If anything it’s as if the climax of the battle was captured in stone. The druids would not have made this, and yet Rock claims the village is older than the statue… She hummed in deep thought. She was aware of a vague notion dancing on the edge of realization, only for approaching hooves to derail her.
“You sent for us, Inquisitor?”
The idea vanished from her mind, and with a huff of disappointment, she turned to regard Lyra and Lock Stock. He was standing at attention, while Lyra’s posture was moderately casual. “Yes I did. The three of us have some scouting to do.”
The song of the wilds filled the air around Fluttershy. Trees shuddered and crawled, vines slithered, and moss released spores that would be taken by the wind. All of it happened on a long path some twenty feet in width. What was left behind was scattered stone, the last fragments of a lost age. With saddlebags and crates, Lunarians piled the stones out of the way or used them to fill in ruts. The only thing that caused any real difficulty was a single chimney that remained intact.
The lonely spire of brick and mortar was a few hours’ effort ahead of the work crew, so Fluttershy paused in her efforts to approach it. A few ponies eyed the Equestrian druid with suspicion, but left her alone. Melancholy tugged the sides of her lips down before she placed a hoof on the ancient construct, powdery mortar falling away as she did. The brick, discolored by weather, vines, and neglect was no different than a gnarled old tree that so desperately clung to life. The charred remains of a cooking fire were still present next to a cast iron pot so caked in soot it was surely as old as the chimney itself. “I understand.”
Leaving the chimney standing, Fluttershy returned to the barge and acquired a clean water skin, a tea bag, dried meat, and two potatoes. Enough bark and discarded branches were left by the moving trees for her to start a decent enough fire in the chimney, and the cookpot was filled with her gatherings, with some choice moss for filler. As she tended the pot with a sturdy branch, the Lunarians toiled away, largely ignoring the druid or passing brief insults that she paid no heed to. The crews stopped for a rest around the time the food was ready. It was bland by city standards, but it was palatable enough for rations. Once she had her fill and doused the fire she rested a hoof on the weathered mantelpiece. “Be at peace. You’ve served faithfully long enough.”
Those ponies who had been watching were bemused when the chimney slowly collapsed as brick by brick it cracked apart and the mortar gave up, the air within it almost sighing as it escaped.
“Young Miss,” called the thin elderly voice of a stallion. “I hope you don’t mind, but we took the liberty of moving all of the uh - villagers’ remains, to a storehouse.”
Flashing a confused and reserved smile, Fluttershy turned around to find a familiar face. “Blind Speaker? I - well, thank you for such a gruesome task, but these ponies are no more my people than the Equestrians are yours. Why not tell Rock Salt?” She went about cleaning up after her meal and was placing most of it in a saddlebag after shaking off the juices. “He said he needed somethings from his bunk.”
Now it was his turn to be confused. He twisted his ears about and clicked his tongue once or twice. “He’s not here? The boy left shortly after first bell, and I thought that…? Well, in any case, we can’t simply leave the dead where they lay. I’d deliver the last rites myself, but I worry the Dark Father is waiting for just such a moment to spring a trap. The dead don’t like to stay dead when necromancy is involved, and he's been worryingly quiet.”
Her heart thumping in her ears, Fluttershy was taken by sudden instinctive fear, and took to the air a bit to look out over the mists just outside of the boats and Protectors’ influence. There were not many, but she saw shapes moving along the edges, just far enough away to be lost in the murky depths. There was something new. The wilds outside of the village were starting to wail in feeble pain at the undead s’ very passing. “Y-yes, I agree.”
Clicking his tongue, Blind Speaker gruffed in extreme disgust. “I’m sure they are an ugly sight, but hearing dead flesh move is something that will haunt me.”
“Why haven’t they attacked us?” she asked fearfully, the dirge ringing in her ears making her paranoid. “They haven’t since we joined you.”
“Why indeed?” He asked with just enough disparity to make her give him a strange look. He held his suspicion for only a moment before softening his tone. “I didn’t mean anything by it. Even I know it would be a cold day in Tartarus before an inquisitor joined forces with a necromancer. ‘Course, I thought the same with druids and any of us, but there you go.”
Fluttershy closed her eyes and tried to get ahold of herself. She forcibly sighed and dropped to the ground to focus on the aged stallion.
“Still though… it is curious,” he mused while clicking his tongue a few more times.
“Maybe he’s not interested in us.” Fluttershy halted as cold fear gripped her once again. “Do you know where Rock Salt is?”
“I… I believe he left the barge shortly before lunch. The poor boy said something about checking his home to see if his parents’ remains might have been there.” Blind Speaker answered with a grim tone.
Her eyes going wide with panic, Fluttershy sang a quick song to get Rock Salt’s location. It took only half a minute for the wilds to respond. “If the Dark Father’s zombies could last long enough to attack ponies inside the village, then he must have been waiting until Rock was separated!” With speed that belied her modest nature, Fluttershy burst into the air as fast as her wings could carry her.
On the far northern end of the village, Rarity, Lyra, and Lock Stock were taking cover behind a badly degraded stone wall, held together by ferns and vines. What laid beyond was a temple of black stone that had only a faint amount of fog obscuring it. Dark purple runic script glowed along its surfaces, and an iron gate where the wails of the dead be heard leaking through, even from the fence some fifty yards away. Roosting like gargoyles on the roof were the rotting remains of zombified pegasi, but their crisper movements revealed they were anything but mindless.
“Well what do you think, Ma’am?” Lock Stock began as he checked his rifle for the eighth time to make sure it was still good to fire. “Twelve fliers and at least ten on the ground?”
“We can expect many more inside,” Lyra added, her warstaff resting on the last scraps of healthy grass.
“And yet he hesitates.” Rarity had to keep her bile from rising at the mere sight of the undead. “Why? He is an affront to Celestia’s Light and yet he makes no effort to mock us. He only waits in his so-called prison.”
“Darndest prison I’ve ever seen,” Lock Stock commented evenly. He fidgeted before squashing a beetle that was getting too close for comfort. “I have to say, your honor, this whole thing doesn’t sit right. Somepony other than the druids had to have built all this, but who could build a temple like this, while also creating the Protectors? Ain’t that a little sideways to you?”
Rarity leered at him and smirked. “If I need sequins for a dress, I don’t fabricate them myself, I buy them from somepony who does.”
Lyra was in the same boat as Lock Stock and ducked behind the fence when one of the undead sentries looked in her direction. “So… what? Are you saying this is the work of some crazed aristocrat?”
“Possibly. It could just as easily have been a remote place to test dangerous magic,” Rarity theorized. “For all we know, a ley line might have swept by and destabilized things.”
“And now we have zombies…” Lyra groaned while letting her face hit the ground. “Why can’t uncontrolled magic make anything nice like gold or a cake fountain?”
Lock Stock smirked derisively and looked past Rarity towards Lyra. “Even after lunch you’re still yammering about food? Keep this up, and I’m thinking you’re going to end up changing your name to Lard Fat by the time you retire.”
Rolling her head to glare at him, Lyra shot right back. “At least I won’t end up being the one with a lover’s pox collection and twenty mares chasing you to raise their illegitimate foals.”
He winked at her. “That’s still twenty more than you’ll end up with.”
Growling, Lyra tried to stab him with the butt of her staff, but the earth stallion easily grabbed it with a hoof and forced it to remain on the ground. He rolled his eyes as painfully wide as he could just to irritate her further.
I swear I’m surrounded by children. “If you two are quite done trying to give away our position,” Rarity hissed while magically clamping both of their mouths shut.
“Inquisitor,” a thread-bare voice echoed from the temple’s direction.
All three of them ducked below the fence, fully expecting death itself to come scything by. Yet no spell came, nor the marching hooves or wings of the unrelenting dead. Rarity popped her head up first to see a stallion unicorn wrapped in shadow. Or at least that’s what it seemed until the shadows coalesced more fully, and the profile of wings were finally visible. “Since you were able to parley with your lost kin, perhaps you could do the same for me.”
“The Dark Father…” Anger overpowered good sense, and Rarity empowered her horn. “Lost, the Lunarians may be, but none of them are sacrilegious enough to take on the form of an alicorn!”
A grim, low energy laugh arose. “Were I so lucky.” He flared his wings, to reveal they were bare of feathers.
Rarity’s horn dimmed and she adopted a resolute posture. Lock Stock and Lyra still kept their weapons at the ready. “I see only more questions. Fine, you may have your parley, but know this. Unlike my wayward kin, I will destroy you.”
Lowering his wings, the Dark Father only smirked. “Were it so easy. What stands before you is but a shade of myself, for I am still locked within my prison. So save your bluster for when we can finally meet in person.”
Lock Stock and Lyra turned away from Rarity so they could keep watch over anything that might try to ambush them while the inquisitor spoke. “Oh fret not. The Lunarians will soon break your cage so that I may deal with you, personally.”
“And don’t even think about running!” Lyra called out while flicking her tail in a crude manner at him. “Save yourself the effort and die quickly.”
“Oh I hope it is not too quick,” the Dark Father replied with a coy tone. “How else can I earn an honorable death worthy of the Great Armada?”