//------------------------------// // Bruise // Story: A Song Of Silk And Steel // by SilverNotes //------------------------------// Rarity dearly wished that there would be a day that she could look in any direction and not find trees. It wasn't that she disliked trees. She'd gained a new appreciation for their beauty, in fact, and felt that she was beginning to build up a skill for telling the species apart and telling the difference between young and old or healthy and sick from sheer exposure. She just missed the many other sights she'd seen on her travels. There was a thrill to standing at the edge of an ocean, and quiet dignity to a desert, a sense of thrumming life to a sprawling cityscape, and something breathtaking about being among the clouds. And there was nothing beautiful about the trees that she was making her way through right now. The beauty had been stripped away by flame, leaving only husks. She could no longer distinguish species, age, or previous health, because all that remained were hunks of scorched wood and ashes, dead branches frozen in agony as they reached toward an unfeeling sky. She knew, in that distant way that creatures would recall knowledge they no longer remembered learning, that some fires were good for a forest. They helped clear out the organic debris that would build up over seasons, clear out the already-dead and turn it into minerals for the soil. In some nations, wildfires that sprung up would be allowed to burn themselves out so long as they didn't threaten any sapient life nearby, to keep the cycle going. These fires hadn't been wild. The swarm had something of a flaw, and that was that they operated best over open ground or sky. Infiltration could weaken a target's defenses, but when it came to the attack, they came up like a wave of shelled bodies, crashing over everything in their path. Canterlot had seen that the moment they broke through the barrier, taking over the capitol with descending raw numbers. Places that broke up the swarm became ideal places to hide. Places that only permitted narrow passage. Individual changelings were still sturdy and had versatile magic, but a trained pony could deal with them. So two of the ways to escape the encroachment was to go underground into winding tunnel systems... or into a forest. To try to find survivors, Rarity had risked the latter, because it was easier to survive in a forest for ponies than it was in a cave system. It was her best chance. The downside was it was much easier to destroy a forest than a cave. She's in the forest and she's alone. She hates the forest then, hates the sea of green and brown that still looks all alike. The forest goes on in every direction, and she can't be sure she's going in the right way, or if her destination is even in here, because this forest isn't just a forest. It's a forest soaked in magic and ponies whisper that it has a mind of its own, a mind that can decide in an instant that an intruder is unwelcome. There are lots of whispers about this place, too many, and telling fact from fiction is nigh-impossible. She's alone and she doesn't want to be alone anymore. She feels like she's drowning in the green, desperate to get out and see another living thing that isn't the animals of the forest. She doesn't even care what species at this point, she just wants company. She would have left long ago, dismissed this as a fool's errand, but... She pauses and gathers her wits. Tries not to think about the heat and dampness of the forest, the trees and mud, and just breathe for a while. Nils had asked her to come here. Had entrusted her with the search. She has to try. Even though part of her would rather just raze the forest to the ground and hunt for her goal in the ashes. There were four of them, in total, who had volunteered to follow Mr. Roar to the deer's settlement. Herself, Fluttershy--she was in constant conversation with the manticore leading the way, with nary a word left for the ponies--a second pegasus, and one earth pony. The other two had said little, keeping eyes and ears on their surroundings in fear of a waiting ambush despite their imposing guide. After what was the latest attempt to smoke them out, it was natural to assume that the company of a single manticore wouldn't dissuade attack. There being deer in the forest meant that it could heal itself faster, and Rarity imagined that between them, and the presence of earth ponies and a zebra, this haven would hold together much longer than any other forest had under the assaults. But longer wasn't forever. She looked at the as-of-yet unknown pegasus, and studied her. Her coat was a beautiful dove grey, and despite the rough living and the protective green stripes, still had an enviable natural sheen. An endurance flier, if she could hazard of a guess from the overall shape of her figure, and with muscles that pointed to being accustomed to flying with a load. Her mane was a sunny yellow, which matched the eye that was darting around in search of enemy attack. Eye. Singular. Because where the second was, or maybe was no longer, was a cloth patch. There was no sign of scar tissue surrounding the place the cloth covered, which pointed away from violent loss as the reason, but she couldn't be sure. Rarity glanced subtly at the mark. Bubbles. A proficiency with water-oriented magic, perhaps, or something more abstract. The earth pony kept especially close to the grey pegasus. The only stallion in the group, he looked right at home in the forest, as he was all earth tones, a paler brown in his coat and a darker brown in his short mane and tail. He didn't have quite the same height or mass of many earth pony stallions she'd seen before, a bit taller than the mares he was surrounded by but thin in the legs and neck, which implied that he hadn't done much manual labour before fleeing his home. He was relying on his ears more so than his blue-grey eyes to scan for trouble, constantly rotating them toward the latest sound to catch it. There was a springy quality to his steps that reminded Rarity a bit of the deer they were seeking, as if he would bound off in a random direction if an enemy did leap out. His mark was an hourglass. It could also be abstract, or she might have just found herself in the company of a pony who had the dubious honour of being the refugee village's resident former clockmaker. Rarity took a breath, took a chance, and stepped over to the pair. "If you don't mind the new pony prodding with questions, have you met these deer before?" The two looked surprised, and the stallion was the first to speak. "Well not... in a manner of speaking, no." Rarity's ears twitched, tried to identify his accent, and she found herself failing to. "There was a moment, at a distance, when a spotted what I thought was a doe and her fawn, but they're... not really one for conversation with the equine folk, you see." "What my friend is saying," cut in the mare, turning her head slightly to glance at him with her one visible eye before focusing on Rarity again. "Is that we know the herd mostly through reputation. Their leader is referred to as the 'Heart of the Forest' and he maintains..." She let out a giggle. "I nearly said 'order.' It's more like harmony." She rolled her shoulders in a small shrug. "There's a bit of trade. I delivered to them when I was a courier. But they're usually self-sufficient. Pride themselves on it." Harmony. Rarity idly nudged her necklace with her hoof. "I see." She hummed. "So them openly calling for help would be rare?" The pegasus mare bobbed her head in affirmation. "These are strange times, though, so I guess they're doing a lot of pride-swallowing." "They are," Rarity agreed quietly, and looked at Mr. Roar at the head of the group. "Strange times, I mean. At a time like this, I'd normally be wining and dining with very important creatures... and instead I'm here." "Well..." the brown earth pony shifted uncomfortably on his hooves. "Here's better than the alternative?" Rarity winced as mental images of the alternative rushed through the space behind her eyes. "...True." The mare swatted her friend with her wing, and stepped a little closer. "For what it's worth, welcome. To our group, I mean." Rarity managed a smile. "Thank you. My sister and I are fortunate that we came upon such a kind community." She gave a laugh bereft of mirth. "I half expected, when we did find somepony, to be chased off with kicks at best." "We have Zecora to thank for that," the stallion piped up again. "She can see through any malicious deception and see the truth of things. No need to fall into such self-destructive paranoia." Rarity looked at the green in own white fur. She watched the light that filtered through the canopy to play along the strands and the invading gunk alike. "...Any deception..." Clearly that was hyperbole, since if this zebra could know the whole truth of a creature she touched with her magics, she wouldn't have had asked such basic questions, like about her accent. Unless it would simply alert her if Rarity lied, about even the smallest thing. No, she couldn't go down that road. Zecora had been kind. Fluttershy had been kind. She needed to let herself believe it was genuine. Ponies survived in herds, and herds needed trust to function. She would need to trust them if she was going to convince them to trust her. "Is she your first zebra?" the mare asked, no doubt sensing her unease. "The first I've had the pleasure of extended conversation with," Rarity answered carefully, still eying the green she was painted in with discomfort. "I'm well-travelled, so I've seen a little bit of nearly everything." The mare nodded in understanding, her wings giving a brief stretch before settling back at her sides. "Some ponies get jumpy around her, but I'm guessing with you it's just being in a new place with new creatures, huh?" Rarity allowed herself to nod. "Yes. I'm grateful, I am, but... a tad overwhelmed." "And yet," the stallion pointed out. "You volunteered to come with us. That's very admirable, Miss...?" "Rarity," she responded with a smile. "And you two would be?" She's lost. She has to be lost, because everything here looks alike. She's supposed to comb every inch of the forest to find the target of this mad quest, but she could have gone in several circles and not know it. She's counted the times the sun rose, and set, since she arrived and the number is working out to too many. She hurts. Everything hurts, from the surface and deep into every layer. Every movement is more aches rushing through her body like ripples through a pond. Fatigue is weighing on her as if someone is placing stone after stone on her back, and she's so hungry... The hunger is the worst part. Beyond company, she needs food, and soon, or she's going to go mad. Her step is misplaced, and a root sends her tumbling into the muck. She doesn't care what hears the resulting shriek of anguished rage. Then, as the echoes of her outburst fade, she catches sight of something the distance. The gleam of light through crystal. Names had been exchanged, and with it, the conversation had meandered about at a comfortable pace. She learned that there were other unicorns in the village beyond the one she'd briefly spotted, but they were all Sweetie Belle's age and younger, and she wondered how many friends her sister would be surrounded by when they returned home. The little filly could be timid, understandably so, but true to her name, she was very kind and sweet, and would no doubt have other foals gravitating toward her even beyond the first few to approach. It was good. Rarity had found Sweetie a new home, just as promised. Talking made everything a little more bearable. The green in her fur, her hooves over the damp earth, all the little aches and pains that hadn't had the benefit of a night's sleep to ease them. It was all so much easier to ignore with friendly company willing to spend time with her. The surroundings, however, were changing. The trees were still burnt, but something beneath the surface shifted, and Rarity felt the sense of age and the weight of power suffuse the air. Fire had ravaged this place, but there was a sharp scent of life around her nevertheless. Magic that spoke of indignation at the flame's intrusion, but also renewal. It was a good sign, but is was also oppressive. Rarity walked beneath the gaze of countless invisible eyes, and so she tried to lift her head and smooth out her gait, letting light glint off of her necklace. Then Mr. Roar stopped, and she heard Fluttershy gasp. Past them were a set of gates. At a glance, they may have been mistaken as having been made of gold, but with a better look, as she took a few cautious steps closer, the transparency that revealed their true material became clearer, that of amber. Amber resonating with its own sort of magic, shaped into ornate patterns reminiscent of the branches of trees. In fact, it was right between two trees... or what was left of them. It had likely stood adhered to them once, but now it was laying on the ground, allowing an unobstructed view of what lay beyond. The trees beyond were just as blackened as the ones they'd passed, but Rarity could pick out the shapes they'd once had, and it felt like she was looking at the ghosts of buildings. Homes not built from wood, but shaped from the living trees themselves, encouraged to grow in ways that created doors, windows, balconies, winding walkways... It had been beautiful, once, of that she was certain. A buck stepped over the broken gate and toward them, a bird perched comfortably on the top of his helmet. Said helmet, and the armour that covered his back and legs, was similarly made of amber, but its hue skewed more orange than the gold that littered the ground. He stood a head taller than the ponies, not counting the long antlers that came to several points. He was a handsome specimen, form lithe and athletic with burning orange eyes that matched his apparel, and he moved with purpose. Rarity spotted the heart symbol etched in the front of his helmet, and then found anywhere else to look. "Ponies of the Everfree Refuge," the buck spoke, with a sad sort of smile. "And noble manticore. I'm Blackthorn, leader in the absence of our king. Calvin told me you were coming." The bird tweeted in response to hearing what one would presume was its name. "We've been able to stabilize our wounded, but it will take time to restore our home. We hope... as fellow victims of the swarm, we could help one another." Fluttershy smiled. "Of course. Gather everyone together, and we'll bring them back safe with us." She's found it. Or maybe it's found her. It doesn't matter as her legs give out and she falls to her knees before twisting crystal branches. It doesn't matter as a thousand whispers of times gone by hiss out a cacophony questioning whether she is worthy. It doesn't matter as the flesh around her neck burns with cold. It isn't supposed to be like this. It isn't supposed to hurt. The Thicket. That's what the deer had called their home. There was so much more amber, and blackened wood. The shards littering the ground, she'd been told as she started to sift through the remains of homes, had been from magically crafted lanterns. Once completed and enchanted, they would glow from within not unlike giant fireflies. This would be the only illumination they normally had, as they had very little need for fire. Deer ate their food raw more often than not and so did not harness it for cooking, and they knew how to best insulate their homes to have little need of it for warmth even when winter rolled in. Rarity imagined they would have even less love for fire after this. The one telling her all of this was a small doe whose name she hadn't caught, who was searching for something in particular. Her pale pelt was splashed with the magical green, as Zecora has sent plenty with them to paint each refugee with before leading them back. Chatting about what everything used to be seemed to help with coping with the fact that it'd been destroyed, perhaps because remembering how it'd been put together also served as a reminder that rebuilding was possible. Rarity didn't judge. Everyone processed their grief in their own ways. Her horn lit and grasped at some of the dead wood, hauling it backward, revealing more amber shards. The doe carefully approached, nudging the shining bits as her nose twitched, and then sighed and shook her head. She looked at Rarity, opening her mouth to stay something-- Only to be cut off by a scream. Rarity whirled around, and her eyes found the centre of the Thicket, where Fluttershy had been adorning each buck, doe, and fawn. One of the deer was recoiling from the hissing concoction on their fur, sending their fellows leaping backward in terror, long legs scrambling as confused shouts became a tangle of words with no coherency to be found. As the screams morphed into incervid screeches and the supposed deer burst into flames, Rarity's horn burned with magic, and every piece of debris that she could reach, wood or amber, with a sharp enough edge, lifted up into the air. "Oh darling... you were sent to spy on the wrong creatures." And then the changeling had a lot more to scream about. Eventually, she rises. Permitted to live. The metal around her neck is still cold. Heavy, with the jewel it carries. One chosen. Five remain. And now she has a new mission. Wings first. The thought came with grim clarity as the projectiles honed in. The drone hissed, and after the initial hiss upon a reveal, the next move was always to take to the air. It was taking advantage of the surrounding creatures' shock to gain an aerial advantage. So Rarity set dozens of tiny spears to work in removing that advantage, and the scattering of holes at the wings' edges suddenly had company. Shards of amber shredded the thin membranes, and one sharpened branch stabbed through and stayed there, dragging the changeling to one side and causing them to fall back to the earth. Then the legs. The bodies of changelings were covered in protective chitin, but the holes that covered their lower legs revealed softer, more vulnerable flesh. Rarity advanced on the grounded drone, and as she did so, she kept gathering up more ammunition. Whenever there was an attempt to get up, she fired several projectiles, focusing one on each hole in the leg trying to bear weight, and sent the drone back down again with pained cries. Then the horn. Green sparks danced along the drone's horn. Basic telekinesis and energy blast were all most were capable of, and it took a bit too much time to charge. Anyone thinking clearly would see it coming, and so when she did, she selected the largest amber chunk in her arsenal and traded the sharp precision for blunt force, the strike to the horn causing the magic to crackle and fizzle out. Then the neck. Rarity's hoof came down on the changeling's throat, and the struggling dropped. Limbs froze, and compound eyes looked up at her with fear. She didn't take her eyes off her quarry. "Fluttershy, dear?" "Y-yes?" "Anyone who hasn't been given the salve, do it, now. We need to know if there's more than one infiltrator." She ground her hoof into the black shell with slow circles. "Can't have our own village going up in flames, now can we?" That awakened some resistance, and holed legs kicked out feebly. "The queen will burn your entire land to the ground and feast on the love of your grieving hearts." "Well then..." She lowered her head, her horn glowing, until the light of it was reflecting in the facets of the drone's eyes. "You can give her the regards of Rarity the unicorn when you see her again." The drone was looking at her horn. It meant not seeing the other front hoof until it'd cracked against the side of the head, and the light of consciousness faded from the eyes, leaving only the reflections. Rarity stepped off of the knocked out drone, and let her horn dim. The voices of deer and ponies alike, along with Mr. Roar's concerned tones--she imagined if she hadn't acted so fast, he may have done so instead and stolen her show--felt distant in her ears as she walked back over to where she'd been. She ripped away another hunk of wood, and found what she'd been helping search for: a book with a cover that appeared made of leaves, its title in a script that she couldn't read. She wrenched it free and dusted with ash and splinters off of it as she heard the voices take a turn for the relieved--no further deceptive surprises, it seemed--then turned to the doe, who stood there, stunned. "Is this what you were looking for?" "Yes... y-yes it was..." She obligingly took it in her mouth, managing a muffled, "Thk yu" around it. "Anytime." She breathed out a titter. "I'm a mare of many talents, and an eye for detail can be very helpful in finding lost objects." As well as helpful for other things. She just hoped that the demonstration would give some weight to her words when they returned. This forest haven wouldn't last forever. It was time to fight back.