//------------------------------// // Boiling over // Story: A Home Under the Moon // by Ciivam //------------------------------// A Home Under the Moon Chapter 5: Boiling Over The enchantment was not supposed to be that strong, yet, one week after, it never weakened. It persisted. This effect was almost unnatural to her, as far as her understanding of magicks told her. Yet, t’was not the power of the enchantment that left Novus a tiny bit scared and confused. Instead, it was her own power in the brief flare called upon herself. That had never happened before. Her magic had always been as tame as another unicorn’s own. After the incident, she spent few days using her magic, lest need be, in fear of dredging out the beast that seemed to reside within her soul. But it was this day, after no poor sign, that she brought about her confidence to use her magic as regular as once was. It was also this day that the repaired armour was to be delivered to the wall, so that it may be sent back to Mistress Moon’s castle. So, picking out the set, along with what was ordered within the days between, Novus set the arms and armours into the fenced cart her father had unwillingly passed onto her, with dangerous chest piece set atop. For, if it were to lie in the pile’s middle, there would sure to be disaster. She donned her patched cloak, pulling the hood over her head – the pegasi had set to guide some clouds for an eve of rainfall later. Hitching herself to the harness afront the cart, Novus begun her walk to the half-built wall. She had hoped the travel would be as calm as any other day out and had yet to be proven otherwise of her hopes, yet it was nearing the wall itself that it had proven quite disappointing. For, nearing the wall’s check checkpoint – on which she was to trade in the armour for her pay – lay a crowd of ponies raging with hooves raised, stones held within. Most words made out were of demand, for those of lost family, surely. Small stones thrown over the wall confirmed the dispute was not one sided and Novus briefly wondered whether her father were part of it. That point in the wall was the only one along it’s length, forcing her in one direction. Yet, while the group of raging ponies were not hoping a stone thrown would make contact, the mound was still a dangerous field to traverse. But Novus would not simply take the time to wait, for she knew not of the consequences of arriving with the convoy late in hoof. Stuck between indecision, Novus stood to the back of the crowd, deciding upon her next course. After a minute of thought, she started her walk anew and around the crowd. Where the raging crowd was the thinnest, did she travel, just on its edge. Many a pony moved or were dragged, had they been slow to react, out of Novus’ way. One thestral, deeper within the shouts – with a navy topped head and tail, bearing a whitened coat – had caught her gaze. The pony had taken a glance at her – nothing unusual – but when he had seen her, his eyes widened, and he turned to another beside him – his friend, she had to guess – drawing both gazes upon her and the cart on which she hauled. Finally, though, she reached the gate. The front of both crowds appeared worse off than first seen. Guards lining the wall pointed spears outward, keeping ponies from advancing forward. The eyes of each armoured stallion told of fatigue as if they had not slept since the night. Shields and amour kept rocks from serious injuries forming. Atop the wall, attempting to calm both sides, stood the same pony from days before. The one who had spoken Lady Sun’s will, after the befalling of her sister. Approaching the line of guards, Novus was suddenly forced to stop by presence of a spear’s head pointed directly at her neck. She flinched when her eyes fell from the half-built wall, down to the offending object. Lifting her gaze, she met eyes with a guardstallion who, for but a few seconds, held a narrow gaze before raising toward cart Novus had hauled all this way. With a more relaxed stance, he broke his gaze, turned the closest fellow and called out for a manifest. A few seconds later, a unicorn guard came out from within the wall, scroll in muzzle, and shield in a magical field held just as a loosed stone from the crowd struck the wooden barrier, falling soundlessly to the ground. The guard passed the scroll over to the one positioned in front of Novus, who took it in his earth-bound hooves and unfurled it. Seconds later, he spoke. “Thee art quite early,” said he, the sound of impacting stones forcing his voice louder, should Novus hear a spoken word. “Truly?” she asked, glancing above for the suns position. It was indeed revealed to only be just before the noon when she was to be expected. “Indeed,” he replied in answer, “Tis only but the middle of the Lady’s day.” He looked over towards the wagon filled near it’s top with arms and amours, inspecting each one. Novus had made sure to place each particular piece requested within view, should she have more than needed, in which some might be covered and buried under the mass of metal. “What dost thou hold in stock?” The guard asked. Novus looked back towards the cart, trying to recall the full order, along with what had been added on. It was customary for any convoy to have their stock read out, which, if acceptable by any stationary guard or captain, allowed entry through a place or destination. She counted up the visible stock and, while the cart was of a decent size, each piece seemed to fill it quite easily. After she placed number to object, however, she spoke, “There lay, in mine fathers cart, three swords, smithed with a ring, shouldst any pegasi or ponies of earth wield them, three spears whose wooden shaft hath been shaven from a carpenter's ash tree, two maces of pure iron, two sets of armour, craft for the use of the night guard, a-” "Mistress Moon’s night guard hast been disbanded by the princess. Or so says he,” the guard interrupted, pointing towards the stallion still howling atop the half-built wall, “Tis unfortunate, says I. We hath lost a lot this week. More friends than brothers…” he muttered quietly. Shrugging his shoulders, he tipped his head in Novus’ direction and, in response, finished her list. “Last wouldst be a single set of armour, repair and reenchanted for use immediately.” She paused, remembering the chest piece’s properties, before speaking out once more as the guard looked toward the manifest. “Do be wary. Tis the chest piece I worry for. Tis severely sensitive to impact.” The guard hummed in thought, contemplating the information, whilst reading the list. Every item turned out accounted for, leading him to payment. He spoke once more. “Thou will be paid only for the commissioned arms and amour. What extra work hast been done, shalt go forwards with no charge.” Novus wished she were to be surprised by this; she really did. But the laid in front of her, was that this was not the first time she had seen it happen. Now, she felt, it was surely to be more frequently used against anypony. It was not the nicest, but none could argue She unlatched herself, waiting on the side of her father’s stock cart as the guards set to unpacking its contents. There was not much around her mind to think about, so Novus just kept to the side, awaiting the chance to leave for home before the crowd committed an act they could not take back. It was most unfortunate when – by her fears, she blames – a single loose stone brought about the worst thing that could have happened. It was sailing through the air, she saw, aimed toward the beam of the cart, most likely to collapse its foundation, when it had, instead, struck the railing of the cart and bounced from wood to enchanted iron. What followed its impact was pure, unbridled chaos. The captain, reigning in his fellow guard from assaulting the crowd, yelled out for retaliation. Arrows rained from on high and spears were thrust towards the crowd as the crowd screamed, some in pain, and ran. So many were yelling, and a guard lay wounded on the ground, tended to by healers of the castle, his head bleeding from a puncture where a stone had pierced his helmet. Death, while not numerous, permeated the street and, by the sound of similar screams of pain and suffering on the other side, it seemed the guards had similar orders. So, it would seem they weren’t the only ones experiencing this massacre. Nor was Novus, who had stayed by the cart watching every bit of disaster unfold by use of a single stone and a strong enchantment, placed with difficulty on the most basic of amour. She closed her eyes as she tried washing away the thoughts. But no relief had come to her, for the yells, they persisted. She didn’t want to be there. All it was supposed to be, was a simple delivery. Instead, it was a disaster of the highest proportions. It happened so fast. It… it… It sounded quieter. Fainter, even. Novus opened her eyes, at last, gazing towards the distant scene. She could see, from her height, that, while many had continued their mad galloping, some ponies had taken to fighting on the streets, though she could scarcely make out the outcome of such fights. Instead, she turned her head, looking around until she caught her house in her gaze. It was not that far from where she was, but that was not her first worry. The house would not move, anyhow. It was the fact she was seeing it so close from where she was. How did this happen? Did she teleport? That was only supposed to be learnt by high-class mages and magisters of the Royal Castle. How did she even do it? Another scream from below cut her from her musing, reminding her of something vital she had left down there. For, without the cart, she had no other means of transporting goods. With no transportation came no income. No income meant no food for her and her- She had to go back. 'Till the town calmed, however, she had naught to do but wait.