//------------------------------// // 681 - Sneak Preview // Story: Lateral Movement // by Alzrius //------------------------------// “And then he called a giant wolf in armor black as night! She howled and she roared and then she leapt into the fight! Lex ordered her to slay the beasts and she fulfilled his will, fighting all the yetis whom she then began to kill! And kill and kill and kill and kill, and kill and kill and kill and kill, and kill and kill and kill and kill-” “In the spirit of our alliance,” rumbled Lex, doing his best to ignore Spinner’s crooning as the bard – or filidh, rather – strummed her lute in accompaniment to her song, “I should inform you that I have little patience for whatever drivel passes for jocularity among your group.” “You’re kidding.” Not bothering to look up at him, Shadow continued drawing her whetstone across her dagger, eyeing the blade critically. “I never would have guessed that someone as personable as you had no sense of humor. What a shock.” “Quit being – one hundred fifty-seven – bitchy, Shadow,” grunted Valor, sweating her way through her pushup regimen. “You were – one hundred fifty-eight – just as confused by Spinner’s – one hundred fifty-nine – fortune-telling the first time – one hundred sixty – you heard it.” “-and kill and kill and kill and kill!” continued Spinner, giving no indication that she was aware of the conversation happening only a few feet from her, the bard’s eyes closed as she continued to sing. “The sight was so gory it made us feel ill!” “So, um, she’s really communicating with ‘The Author’ right now?” Thermal Draft couldn’t keep the skepticism out of her voice, listening the Spinner recount last night’s battle with a grimace. “I mean, I would have thought that talking to a goddess would be more…you know…” “Austere? Solemn? Dignified?” ventured Shadow. “Believe me, we know.” Shaking her head, Thermal Draft opened her mouth again…only to close it abruptly, her expression turning distant for a moment as she settled back down next to Lex. “Never mind.” “One hundred seventy-eight!” groaned Valor before flopping down, apparently unable to continue. Giving herself a moment to recover, she slowly got up, wiping the sweat from her brow. “I agree it’s pretty weird, but this is Spinner’s process. She sings about the recent past leading up to the present, and after a while she puts herself into a trance or something, at which point she starts singing about stuff that hasn’t happened yet. It just takes a little while for her to get into it.” “Lex finally beat the evil hag, and left her puppet broke! But then his wrath, unsatisfied, turned to the village-folk!” Gritting his teeth, Lex resisted the urge to berate the bard, silently reminding himself that – presuming Valor was telling the truth – if he interrupted Spinner now, she’d have to start all over again. “Exactly how long does she need to ‘get into it’?” Valor shrugged. “Dunno.” Balancing two chairs on top of each other, the muscled mare carefully climbed on top of them. Rearing up on her hind legs, she gave a quick jump, grabbing one of the rafters overhead. Grunting as she turned over, Valor hooked her back legs over the wooden beam, hanging upside down. Crossing her forelegs over her chest, she exhaled sharply as she curled upward, touching her muzzle to her knees before straightening out. “One,” she announced, before curling upward again. “She usually – two – needs at least ten minutes before – three – she can make it happen. But sometimes – four – she takes longer. I think once she – five – needed a half-hour.” “They turned in for the evening then, fair Drafty and her Lex! And heady from their victory, the two had lots of sex! Yes lots and lots and lots and lots, and lots and lots and lots and lots, and lots and lots and lots and lots-” “You can see why Mystaria went back to our room to conduct her prayers,” groaned Shadow, putting her dagger away as she instead began to work on oiling her armor. Hearing how loudly Lex was grinding his teeth next to her, Drafty winced as she nodded. “Maybe we should go see how Woodheart’s doing,” she offered weakly. “I mean, you two will listen to whatever prediction Spinner makes, right? You don’t need us here?” “We’ve got – twelve – this covered,” grunted Valor. “But Woodheart needs – thirteen – even longer to – fourteen – do her thing.” “That’s fine,” replied Drafty quickly, throwing the inn’s front door open. “I’m sure it’ll be educa-” “AWOOOOOOOOO!!!” The animalistic cry made Drafty jump, wings flaring in fright as Lex’s head snapped around to look out the front door, where the sound had come from. Its owner was easily found, however, as Woodheart – having once again doffed her robe, the discarded bundle of leaves and feathers now being guarded by Littleknight – still had her head thrown back, muzzle pointed toward the sky as her beastly howl trailed off. The odd display became even odder a second later, as the druid began to repeatedly sniff the air before glancing sharply to the side, her spine arching upward as gave a loud hiss. One hoof came up to swat at the empty space alongside her as she started to pace in a tight circle, moving in profile as though about to leap on an invisible opponent. Her tail twitching, Woodheart yowled as she dove forward- And Shadow Star slammed the door shut, cutting off the Equestrian ponies’ view of the druid. “How about giving my friend some privacy, perv?!” snapped the masked mare, glaring at Lex. “Just because she’s naked doesn’t mean it’s okay for you to stare!” The response was so incongruous with what they’d just witnessed that neither Lex nor Thermal Draft were able to formulate a response. Instead, Valor was the one who broke the silence. “Not fair and – twenty-six – you know it, Shadow.” “Is…is she okay?” ventured Drafty at last, glancing back at the closed door. “I mean, I know she said she was going to conduct some sort of spirit summoning, but…” “Possession, not summoning,” corrected Shadow, turning her attention back to her armor, albeit not without one last dark look at Lex. “Woodheart reaches out to animal spirits in the local area, and invites one of them to take up temporary residence in her body, borrowing its power. She mentioned before that it usually takes her an hour, remember? So she’ll be like that for a while.” “I’m more concerned with what she gives up in exchange for the power she gains,” replied Lex, his voice tinged with suspicion. “Because even if whatever entities she’s allowing herself to be invaded by lack sapience, her ‘inviting’ them suggests that she’s offering them something in return for their compliance.” “No idea,” answered the masked mare casually, rubbing an oilcloth over her leather cuirass in slow, deliberate motions. “You’ll have to ask her, though she usually doesn’t speak except in grunts and growls while she’s possessed, so that might be hard.” “Mystaria might – thirty-eight – know,” grunted Valor. “She’s an expert – thirty-nine – about religions. Even – forty – heathen ones.” Drafty’s eyebrows rose. “Heathen ones?” Sighing, Shadow put her armor-cleaning kit away. “Woodheart’s religion isn’t devoted to a god. Instead, she belongs to a sect that worships nature itself.” “He conjured up a ton of food, to show indeed his heart was good! With cakes and cheese and fruits and pies, no one could believe their eyes! It looked so good and tasted great, we ate and ate and ate and ate! And ate and ate and ate and ate, and ate and ate and ate and ate-” Compared to the Sirens, Spinner’s crooning was all the more painful to Lex’s ears. Fortunately, ignoring her was easier now that he had something else to focus on, though that didn’t mean he was happy to learn what he’d just been told. “‘Nature’ is nothing more than a category denoting natural phenomena that takes place without the intervention of a self-aware intelligence,” he noted unhappily. “Obeisance directed toward such activity should not result in obtaining magical abilities.” “That’s what Mysty – forty-six – says, but Woodsy still – forty-seven – casts spells,” answered Valor. “Resolving ‘the paradox of non-theistic religious mysticism’ is a pet project for Mystaria,” added Shadow, shrugging her leather armor back on. “She’s not the first pony to try and figure that one out, of course; that particular conundrum has apparently been giving church bigwigs a headache for a very long time.” Thermal Draft cocked her head. “How come? I mean, so she can do magic without worshiping a god, isn’t that just whatchamacallit…arcane magic?” “According to Mysty – fifty-three – Woodsy wouldn’t be able to – fifty-four – heal if that was the – fifty-five – case.” “Since there are druids who worship gods, the leading theory is that the ones who don’t are having their prayers answered by some deity,” continued Shadow, buckling the last of the straps on her armor before arranging the collection of pouches hanging off of her belt. “But no one knows for sure.” The masked mare paused at that, brow furrowing before looking up at Lex. “Speaking of which, shouldn’t you be getting ready?” Frowning, Lex didn’t try to hide his irritation at the uselessly vague question. “What are you talking about?” Shadow met his annoyance with an exaggerated sigh of her own. “Your magic, moron. Mystaria needs to spend an hour in prayer before Luminace will replenish her divine spells, and then another hour studying her spellbook to prep her arcane spells. You’re obviously a caster of some sort” – she gestured toward his wire-wrapped hoof – “so don’t you need to go pray, or meditate, or study a spellbook, or whatever it is you do to get your spells ready?” The question made Lex tense up, not wanting to go anywhere near the issue of how he couldn’t easily replenish his thaumaturgical magic. Bad enough that Twilight Sparkle had come uncomfortably close to figuring out that particular limitation during their duel; letting these unreliable mares learn his secret would have been a disaster. Fortunately, he didn’t need to formulate a response as Thermal Draft piped up. “Not every kind of magic works like that, you know,” she huffed, giving Shadow a pointed look. “I can use spells also, and I don’t have to prepare them ahead of time; neither does Lex, for that matter. So maybe in the future stop and think about that before you criticize other people about something you don’t understand.” Shadow quirked a brow at Thermal Draft, but it was bemusement rather than acrimony that shone in her eyes then. “Well look who’s standing by their stallion. Hoping he’ll give you a quickie before we set out?” Lex took a step toward Shadow then. “If you speak to her like that again-” “If we’re – sixty-six – taking cookies before we – sixty-seven – go,” interrupted Valor from above, panting as she continued her stomach crunches, “then grab some – sixty-eight – for me!” Thermal Draft couldn’t hold back a snicker at that, only to stop a moment later. “Listen!” Scowling, Shadow glared at the other mare. “You listen-” “No, I mean listen to Spinner!” Pointing at the bard, Drafty’s eyes widened. “I think she’s giving her prediction and we’re missing it!” That was enough to quiet everyone down, with even Valor finishing her exercises as she straightened her back legs, releasing the beam and flipping around as she vaulted down from the ceiling to land on her hooves with surprising grace, ears perked as she looked at her friend. “The Night Mare’s test Lex Legis faced, seeking Her dark salvation!” sang the filidh, her eyes still closed as she nimbly worked her hoof over the strings of her lute. “But interference from outside left his body misshapen!” Three sets of eyes turned toward Lex at that. Valor was grimacing, giving him a look of sympathy, while Shadow seemed unusually pensive at the news. Drafty, however, looked stricken at the prediction, the blood draining from her face as she looked at Lex. “That…that can’t be right…it just can’t be…” For his part, Lex showed no reaction, save to set his jaw grimly as he continued listening to the bard. “Accepting that there was no cure, Lex found his progress jammed! So then he chose to venture down, the pathway of the damned! The damned the damned the damned the damned, the damned the damned the damned the damned, the damned the damned the damned the damned-” Her song came to an abrupt end as Thermal Draft rushed forward, slapping the lute out of the bard’s hooves. The instrument twanged as it hit the ground, coming to a stop next to a food-lined table. Silence fell over the common room then, the only sound being Drafty’s harsh breathing as she backed away from Spinner, shaking. For her part, Spinner slowly opened her eyes, shaking her head as though coming out of a fugue. Blinking, she looked at Thermal Draft, then at her friends, then at her fallen lute, before finally making eye contact with Lex. Gulping, she managed a rictus grin. “So…I’m guessing no one wants an encore?”