Soulitude- second season

by JC Borch

Chapter 4: Trials, Tests and Thieves

The first thing Lars did that morning was taking the ship to Raven Rock to check up on the mine. They had not made much progress with the dig lately due to various problems and the focus on expanding the colony. But just the small scrape they had made into the soil had turned out unbelievable chunks of highly valuable ore. As he arrived on the dedicated wooden pier, he got a taste of the bustle. Several ships were moored to the pier. Sailor ponies of all races and some even with shirts on wandered around with sacks over their shoulders.

Raven Rock had become so much more than a simple mine. A small town had been erected with private homes, a pub, a trader’s post and several other necessary amenities. Most prominent of all the buildings was the large timber shack sheltering the mine entrance. Like clockwork the miners either entered with their tools or exited with their bounty.

Melon, the project leader and wearing a fine doublet as always, with his pale orange mane combed back, smiled wearily as he observed the busy work of the colony. He stood like usual in the middle of everything, keeping close to the mine shed. Lars ascended the shallow incline from the harbour and up into the town proper.

“You look tired as always. Don’t tell me you’ve run into more problems?” Lars asked when he had gotten sufficiently close.

Melon turned around, his face lighting up when he saw the human coming towards him. “You have a habit of coming at opportune times, Lars.” His smile wilted however upon reflection of Lars’ words. “Yes… more problems, I’m afraid. This mine is almost more trouble than it’s worth. But we’re making a lot of ponies happy back in Equestria. That’s got to count for something?”

“That’s the most important thing. Well, I just had a feeling it would be best to swing by. So what is it this time?” Lars asked with fervour, eager to eliminate any problem in his way.

“Well… this is embarrassing, but we were on a tight budget when we started out. That’s not the embarrassing part, mind you, but some of our contractors were, hmm, shady? It’s what we could get at the time but they’ve worked well for us even after we got cash. But now the steed we hired to sail the ebony ore to Equestria has caught on to our income and asks a, quite frankly, ludicrous pay to do his job. Could you have a talk with Rockin’? He should be down by the docks, holding our shipments ransom.”

The light from the newly released Sun allowed Lars to see Melon properly for the first time in a while. He was a large pony but with kind features aged too quickly from worry and stress. Sympathy welled up in the human who could appear brusque at times as well. “Of course. I’ll see to it right away,” he said with a nod and went back towards the harbour. The smallness of it allowed only two ships to anchor. The one he had come in had already departed again with fresh passengers.

Many ponies bustled around the wooden wharf, chatting lively or carrying heavy burdens on their backs. Asking around got him directed down the coastline where another ship was held up. Rockin’ was still right there on the gangway, lounging at the entrance to his ship with a sour expression pasted on his face and hoofs behind his neck.

The other ponies avoided him, mostly from the scowls he sent him. His ship was otherwise stocked up and ready to sail. Instead it bobbed gently up and down, secured to the pier with rope. Lars had to pause for a moment when he saw the captain. It was like looking at a younger Butterscotch, with darker colours of purple for coat and grey for hair tied behind him. Rockin’ was starting to notice the human stare at him, so Lars shook the image out of his mind. “Excuse me, but would you happen to be Captain Rockin’?”

“Spare me any drivel,” he sneered and got up on his hooves. “You’re here to tell me I need to get back to work, but it ain’t happening. Not for this measly wage.”

“Raven Rock has gotten quite profitable, but there are also many expenses,” Lars said, feeling his tone unconsciously harden. “You might be able to negotiate for a higher wage, but you can’t ask for ridiculous prices. Please just go back to work.”

“What if I won’t?” Rockin’ countered and sat down on the gangway with a recalcitrant mien. “My good friend Yellow Flourish hasn’t been switching with me at all the last couple of days, so I’ve been pulling all the shifts. Hardly had any time to relax or have fun. So I’m not moving until you get me a raise.”

“So just because your friend bailed on you, you’re just going to sit here like a spoiled brat?” Lars retorted.

Needless to say, the physically impressive and mean-looking pony did not take the harsh words well. Rockin’ knitted his brow into a glare and slammed his hoofs in the gangway. “While that bastard is off drinking cider in Canterlot and warming his hoofs under a mare’s sheets, I’m stuck here freezing my ears off, shuttling between Equestria and this frozen wasteland. I demand some restitution, you dig? I ain’t going to move until I see it.”

However much Lars would have wanted to continue the discussion, Rockin’ went back inside his ship. Lars snorted and returned to Melon who was still pacing around the colony nervously. His face lit up when he saw Lars again, but the light diminished upon seeing the human’s dissatisfied face. “No luck, then?” Melon asked crestfallen.

Lars shook his head and kicked a pebble across the ground. “No, that pony is stubborn as a mule. And I think I might know where he got it from. But ancestry aside, it seems he’s dissatisfied with his friend bailing on him. Yellow Flourish, I think he called him.”

Melon gasped and put a hoof to his mouth. “Oh dear. I guess he hasn’t heard then…”

Lars looked up from his gloom with curiosity in his eyes. “Heard what?”

Melon turned away and looked up at an almost clear sky where only small tufts of white disturbed the solid blue. “Yellow Flourish is dead. He was the captain of the shipwreck you investigated a few days ago. But perhaps we can use that… you should go see Spring Darling, the only survivor of that shipwreck. She might be able to tell you something we can use.”

“I remember. Lots of undead. I’ll look into it, don’t worry.” Lars put his right fist under his chin.

Spring Darling was a strong mare that Lars had rescued from the clutches of the draugr. She had since become part of the colony, roaming around and barking orders at the miners. In some strange way it might have been her way of flirting with them. Or perhaps she had become genuinely interested in the wellbeing of the colony. If that was not her intent for coming to the Frozen North to begin with. With her bright orange coat and thick dark olive mane blowing freely in the wind, she was easy enough to recognise. “Huh?” she called out when she saw Lars, before cracking a mischievously delighted grin. “The human from before! I never got to thank you properly for escorting me here. It’s a really nice colony, but all the stallions are slouches compared to what I’m used to.”

Lars scratched his neck. Her forthcoming nature was as off-putting as always. She did have a certain charm to her and her face wasn’t the worst, but her daring personality was scaring most of the steeds away. They certainly found very interesting spots on the ground as they passed her, even with her back turned to them. Even Lars could barely look into her eyes. “I’m sorry to hear that. Listen, I was wondering–”

But Spring Darling had gotten near and was suddenly looking him up and down. Lars had no choice but to put out his arms in instinctive defence, too high to touch her. “You’re not looking half-bad for a weird creature from another dimension. Ever dated a pony before?”

“Now listen to me!” he exclaimed with colour flushing his cheeks.

Spring Darling giggled like a foal and enticingly turned her back on him again. “You’re blushing, Lars Leland. But think it over, won’t you?” She looked over her shoulder and winked at him, before turning her front towards him again. “So what can I help you with?”

“It’s about Rockin’ and what I can understand to be unreasonable demands from his side. He had some connection with your ship’s captain, Yellow Flourish. I was hoping you could tell me something, anything, to use as leverage against him,” he asked with cheeks still burning and his voice impatient. Spring Darling hung her head.

“Rockin’ and I come from the same village, so I know he can be a real hothead. He probably also told you that he hates Yellow Flourish for disappearing, but he adored that unicorn like a hero. That’s why I told him he had put me off here and gone back to Canterlot. But I suppose it’s time he knew the truth, before he’ll cost this colony any money with his stunts.”

“How do I do that? Can’t you tell him?” Lars asked more soberly, seeing a softer side to Spring Darling. She looked up with a rueful smile on her face.

“He wouldn’t want to see me after lying to him. He’ll probably come around again, but until then, I think it’s best we kept some distance. Wait here, you’ll never convince Rockin’ without it,” she said mysteriously and sped off into the colony. She returned only moments later with a sheathed sword in her mouth. The guard on the hilt was wide enough to fit a hoof inside. A sabre. “This belonged to Yellow Flourish. I couldn’t let those filthy draugr despoil it so I snatched it before fleeing. He would never part with it unless in death. Rockin’ will believe you with this.”

“T-thank you. I’ll take good care of it, Miss Darling. Don’t you worry.”

With the sabre in hand, Lars returned to the docks and went down the boardwalk to the ship. Rockin’ peered over the railing. His eyes were defiant, like a grouchy boy thinking himself safe in his tree house, but he caught sight of the sabre. At least to examine the sword he came down the gangway, but Lars kept it out of reach for the pony.

“That sword… where did get it?”

Lars held it out so Rockin’ could see the shape of the sabre. It was otherwise unassuming but a certain name was etched into the steel. As Lars took his time responding and also kept the sword so high out of reach, Rockin’ angrily pounded his hoof into the ground. “You know whose sword this, and how I would have gotten it.” Lars relaxed his arm so the sabre rested his against his leg. The revelation made Rockin’ swallow a lump. “Your friend… your hero never abandoned you. He died when his ship ran aground and was stormed by monsters.”

Rockin’ reached out for the sabre, but did nothing to demand it back. His face had become ashen and a solemn expression covered it. “May I have it?” he asked in a low voice that left no doubts he would take it by force, if courtesy failed. “Please?”

Lars sheathed the sword again. The scabbard was just a worn leather pouch with a piece of string for hooking it around a pony’s shoulder. “You may, if you promise to stand down.” Rockin’ nodded, so Lars carefully helped it over his head and under his hoof. “My deepest apologies.”

“No, it’s quite all right. Perhaps this will remind me to stay true to my heart. The seas are my home, and I am not doing this to get rich. Thank you.”

Rockin’ went back on board with the sabre dangling around his neck. The sails were soon set and the ship away for Equestria. Lars went back up to the colony where Melon anxiously awaited him, but the human’s smile flooded elation into Melon’s cheeks. A leather purse hung from his mouth. With a jerk of his head, the pouch flew through the air. Lars barely caught it. “You can’t keep rewarding me like this. My suit will get too heavy to move.”

“Nonsense,” Melon grinned, all his troubles disappearing from face. “It would not feel right to let you go without a reward for all the hard work you do around here.”

Lars weighed the pouch in his hand, throwing it gently up and grabbing it again. All the coins inside jingled and jangled. “I appreciate it. I have no had this much money between my fingers since… for a long time. Just as long as I’m not taking funds away from the mine.” He put it away, into one of his seamless pockets, and the pouch was gone.

Melon sighed almost melancholically. “And so I suppose you must leave us again? You could help us even more if you would stay longer,” he suggested, but Lars shook his head.

The ship was already far down the river. Its masts disappeared around a bend with the accompaniment of a bird choir. “This is truly a majestic place, I must admit, but I cannot allow myself to rest here. There is still a great evil residing in this land, and I have an old acquaintance to take care of as well. Perhaps when my journey is over I will settle here.” He looked wistfully up into the sun. Its harsh rays beat down on the land below and warmed his skin. A gentle breeze came and ruffled Melon’s fur and played with Lars’ thinning, corn blonde hair.

Life had once again returned to Skaal Villager after his Test of Wisdom, and the renewal of their sacred pillars. It was as if a dark cloud had never threatened to crush them at all. But still, it was only foals and mares out. There was not even a glimpse to be made of any males. Only a few guard ponies spread around the village and mostly in front of the Greathall.

Inside roared a large fire in a pit in the middle of the room. Most of the town’s steeds were gathered there in the large timber building, but not for the drinking and parties one would otherwise associate the place with. Rather, they were discussing heavily, and silence fell on the room as soon as Lars entered. Some of the stallions stared at him, others frowned. Only Heart-Fang, the village leader, seemed to have genuine interest in Lars’ intrusion. He beamed as he got up from his wooden seat and descended the stone dais to the ground floor.

“Lars Leland, we were just discussing you. Or should I say, we were just finishing up discussing you.” Lars came to stand before the pony. He was younger than most of the ponies around him but the dents and scratches to his armour proved for all to see that he had earned his position of their leader. “It is good that you should come at this time. Your passing of our Test of Wisdom has left us in awe, but there is still one more test you will have to take before we can claim you as one of our own.”

“I might have suspected as much.” Lars looked out into the room. None of the ponies yielded to his gaze and stared back at him. “But the last test already left me drained. What more do you expect of this old man?”

“You certainly look much different to us ponies, Lars Leland, but some things are shared between races, it seems.” Heart-Fang took a walk around Lars, looking him up and down. “Your voice is unfaltering and certain like that of a warrior’s. Your face is scarcely marked by the lines of age. I’d say you are older than me, but not by much more than a decade or two.”

“That still doesn’t make me young. It’s taking me longer to recover from strenuous exercises.”

Heart-Fang again paused in front of Lars and nodded approvingly of what he saw. “You bear the Mace of Aevar Stone-Singer well. His spirit is upon you and sharing your burden. Two great warriors from opposite ends of time and of different races, helping each other with a common goal. The securement of the Skaal.” Heart-Fang sat back up on his throne and observed Lars from on high. “And now, if you would please, another trial awaits you.”

“Before we proceed with this otherwise flattering meeting, I would wish that my previous success merited me a few questions.”

“Of course, but I hear that you have already conferred with my shaman. You will be working with him again. There will be time enough for questions afterwards.”

Lars grunted, but resignedly let go of a deep breath and looked up to Heart-Fang. “So, what must I do this time to please you?” he asked, earning him stern glances from some of the gathered ponies at the sides. “Any more pillars you want me to activate?”

“No, no, nothing like that,” Heart-Fang ensured and waved his hoof, leaning forward in his seat. “Compared to the last test, this one will be a little easier. It will test your strength. But Korst is the one to speak to. I believe he is preparing for the test by Lake Fjalding’s northern side. That would be the big lake south of here.”

So once again, Lars set out for new adventures, unknowing about the excitement that awaited him ahead. He could see flashes of light against the sky. Crossing a dune, a large fire in the middle of the frozen lake came into view. The flames seemed supernatural and wispy as they roiled up towards the sky. The ice around it was unaffected despite the intense heat that kept Lars warm just from the shore.

“Peculiar, isn’t it?”

Korst suddenly stood next to Lars, who had been too enraptured by the flames to notice anything else. He looked down and saw the shaman also staring into the flames, but his face was one of deep worry, not curiosity. “It is. What’s going on here?” Lars asked, not sure whether to focus on the fire or on Korst.

“Your next test lies before you. This strange fire appeared suddenly during the night and no one can explain it. Of course, there are theories,” Korst said with a scoff.

“Theories?”

Korst nodded solemnly. “Yes. Tharsten Heart-Fang believes it to be the work of a draug lord sealed in the lake, but…” Korst swallowed a heavy lump in his throat. Fear, for the first time, trickled down his brow. “I believe this is much worse. Much, much worse.”

Lars bowed and glanced sideways at the shaman. “Well spit it out already. What’s so bad to get your tongue in a bind?”

Korst did not reply at first and instead wandered around the lakeside, sometimes looking up and sounding like talking, but always bowing his head again. At length he summoned his courage by taking a deep breath of air. “Our prophet foretold of this, of everything. He said that the great evil which drove us together would come to split us apart again. The evil that you call King Sombra.”

Lars couldn’t stifle a slight chuckle at this, not at the shaman’s obvious plight, but at the absurdity of his words. “King Sombra? He’s already been taken care of by the wielders of the elements. With all your pillars activated again, what threat could he possibly pose?”

“Do you understand nothing, you fool?” Korst retorted with wild eyes. He realised his own outburst and continued in a more calmed voice. “Everything so far has gone to prophecy. Our Stones becoming inert, werewolf attacks and now this. It will only be a matter of time before King Sombra awakens again. His defeat was merely a delay.”

“So what would you have me do?” Lars asked; all traces of mirth gone from his speech and replaced with a seriousness that befitted the situation. “I don’t exactly know where to go to defeat King Sombra.”

“That is another matter entirely. Some day you will stand before the Evil King. If you win, an era of peace will be secured forever. If you fail, this land, indeed, the whole world will plunge into a darkness which you could never even imagine. For now you must get to the source of this pyre… somewhere below the lake.”

Lars tiptoed closer to the water’s edge. The fire was making it bearable but ice still somehow floated lazily on the surface, like nothing was going on at all. Same could be said about the strange creatures he had seen before, the sea lion-looking animals with the weird mouths. “So I just need to dive into this lake? Looking for what, exactly?”

“You should find a cave at the bottom, somewhere near the centre. Close to the fire, I believe. The quicker you can stop this menace, the better. I do not like to have this fire burning. It feels like a beacon for all things wicked and foul.”

Lars dipped one foot into the lake. Water seeped over the edge of his golden boots, like the gentle touch of a woman’s hand. Further and further he walked into the lake until he was waist deep. He turned around and saw Korst in his leather robe, sitting on the shore, the flames illuminating a much older and tired face than usual. “I will not be long. I’ll find the cause of this and put an end to it.”

He could not breathe, like when he had followed the Swimmer, but he didn’t need even a minute to find his destination. The fire was coming from a hole in the lake floor and flowing unhindered. It got warmer as he got nearer but never unbearable. It truly was a beacon. Not fire for fire’s sake, but a signal… or perhaps a symptom.

The caves themselves had air trapped inside. Lars slipped inside through a hole in the side and breached the surface before he found himself choking. The snow crunched under his dripping frame, but the fire was nowhere to be seen. It had to be coming from somewhere else within the caves. So Lars began his walk through the tunnels.

Draugr infested the place but tasted his new mace in response. Their crystallised bones snapped like twigs at his swipes. They had been rendered ineffective to stop him. Only their companions, the bone wolf, proved a challenge. Mainly in their speed and ferocity. They snapped at him and quickly fell back and resumed their tactic all over again. The heavy mace left a trail of ice crystals as it flew through the air. The bone wolves similarly went flying.

He almost missed the side tunnel. Ice had grown thick on its sides and nearly barred the way. Lars could just barely squeeze through. On the other side, the ice had likewise reclaimed most of the corridors and rooms. There was very little snow: the floor was mostly just the naked ice. Icicles rattled overhead. At several points the cave thinned so Lars was afraid he would get stuck, and at other points the ice had formed little rooms with bones frozen inside. He tried not to think of it, rubbing his arms as he passed it.

The last room opened up so much that it threatened to crush him under its size. The ice covered the floor and made it bumpy and rough. Sparse furniture decorated the room, all of it from rickety wood. A decimated human corpse sat on a chair with hands across the table. An unmoving draug. Lars approached carefully. The draug stirred and turned its head. Lars cried out with the mace above his head. The draug screamed back and raised its arms.

“Please don’t hurt me. I am not like them.”

The mace paused just before hitting the speaking draug’s sunken face. A mist of ice blew into its face. It breathed a sigh of relief and adjusted its rusty cone helmet. Lars did not put the mace away, but it was too heavy for him to support with stretched arms. “You can speak?” he asked incredulously, to which the draug nodded feverishly, undoing his previous helmet adjusting.

“I can also sing and hum and whistle and… well, I can do neither of those things anymore, but that’s not important. You have finally come to help me.”

Lars raised an eyebrow in suspicion. “I didn’t come here to help you. For your information, all the draugr I have met so far have all tried to kill me. What makes you any different?”

“It’s all a little tricky to explain, but I implore you to hear me out before you bash my head in. My name is Aesliip and yes, I am a draug, but I chose to become one. Thus my mind is still intact though my body continues to deteriorate.” The draug rose from his seat, slouching ever so slightly. Even its clothes were almost gone. A loincloth was all that was left of his trousers and a rusted chest plate covered his upper body.

“You chose to become a draug?” Lars’ confusion was only increasing. The mace hung limply from his hand. “Why would anyone ever want to become a draug?”

Aesliip turned his back on Lars. “I didn’t say I wanted to, I said I chose to. I guard a seal that keeps demons from bursting out, but the seal is rapidly weakening. I fear something is interfering with it,” he explained in a heavy voice, hoarse from countless ages spent alone and shrivelling up.

“Say I do believe you,” Lars began, making the draug lord turn around with a hopeful expression on his face. Lars repeated himself to drive the point him before continuing. “If I believe you, do we need to keep these demons sealed away? Couldn’t we just kill them?”

The draug stared nonplussed at Lars, but a wide grin quickly cracked his dried up lips. Laughter sounding like deep rumblings bubbled forth. “I like your initiative, fellow human. Indeed, the seal is done for, and that is not where I need you. I wouldn’t know how to strengthen it anyway.” He waved for Lars to follow him as he shuffled across the cavernous room. “I am sure you have many questions. I’ve been pondering how best to answer them for the last, hmm… for a long time.”

Lars followed behind him and together they went for the unassuming door at the other end of the room. There were doorposts set into the ice and a few wooden boards knocked together with rusting iron bands. “You were expecting me?” he asked in surprise. “Or rather, should I ask how you still retain your sanity?”

There was snow under their feet again. The draug was taller than Lars, but slouched so that their height evened out. “Mine is a tragic story indeed. As for your two questions, they are much related. You see… hmm… a long time ago I was brought here by a pony named Swirl the Smart. I thought myself saved by the destruction of our world and followed his orders gladly. But Celestia did not approve of me. She banished us from Canterlot and so we went far and wide. We came to this frozen wasteland where it seemed we could start out research again. But this land has its own tragic history.” He halted his speech when something stirred in the corridor before them. The very ice itself moved and was given form. A man stood before them but of ice and sparsely wrapped in iron clothing and a chilling mist.

Lars whipped out his mace and held it out before him. The being of frost stared at it him through eyes carved into its face. Spikes grew from on top of his head and spread down his shoulders and arms. “What is that thing?” Lars asked as the frost being stalked closer. Its unmoving face was perhaps the most unnerving thing about it. Its blank expression reflected Lars’ fear.

Aesliip raised his hands. Magic shimmered between his fingers. “That would be why we have a seal, one of nine. Real strong, these frost atronarchs, but I see you have a stahlrim mace. That should be able to help out tremendously.” The draug lord released a ball of fire that glued on to the frost being’s chest.

It was slow to recognise them as threats and was too busy clapping out the fire, like one might with a smoulder sleeve. Lars smashed his mace into its knees. That got its attention as it fell to the ground in surprise. Lars raised the mace again. Its head splintered into tiny fragments. Its body dissolved into a shower of hoarfrost. Not even its metal harness remained afterwards.

“As you can see, I have no weapon, my magic is weak and there are still many more of them. These tunnels slither around under the lake bed. We should move on.” The draug shuffled on. Lars took a moment to gauge the situation. He wiped the sweat from his brow and followed.

There were more of them, and not all of them alone. Two more materialised before Lars could raise any more questions. Aesliip assaulted one with flames, keeping it busy for Lars to attack the other. One swing of the mace to the jaw rattled the head off. The body crumbled into a small flurry of ice flakes. Then, turning to the other, Lars sunk the mace into its back. It howled in pain and likewise crumbled.

Aesliip nodded in appreciation. “Have you met Swirl the Smart before?” the corpse asked, to which Lars confirmed with a nod as he hurried after him. The draug gave a long, weary sigh. “Then it will be no surprise that he tricked me. And after everything that I did for him. This land with its eternal blizzards was the perfect hiding spot for us. Here we continued his experiments in peace. The draugr, like myself, are his creations.”

They came to another room made only of ice. Two more frost atronachs awaited them. The same routine of distraction and punishment quickly felled them. “I gathered as much. The draugr are the desecrated corpses of humans, and Equestria has no humans,” he said as he put the mace back.

“The draugr were his experiments to revive humans. He grew fascinated, fanatic even, about talking with a real live human and gain their technological knowledge. But there was no one alive for him to talk to and I couldn’t be of much help to him. I don’t remember much from before coming here. I fear that the machine he had to leave behind in Canterlot had some disadvantages.” One more frost atronach waited for them back in the corridor. Lars jumped up and latched to its shoulder while pummelling away at its head.

“His installations beneath Canterlot are almost destroyed, but I also saw one under the sea.” The frost atronach exploded into a chill mist. Lars was thrown off and tumbled down the corridor. The draug lord laughed to himself.

“He must have made that factory after he was done here,” Aesliip mused and scratched his chin. “His experiments here were… savage, to say the least. He had magic power beyond comprehension. He tried to make ice replicas of humans and fuse these dolls with the souls of deceased humans stolen from our world. But the ice was a poor medium. The frost atronachs grew wild.”

“And that’s when he sealed them in here?” A seventh frost atronach broke free from the wall it had merged with. Lars nearly dropped his mace in shock. The wild being raised its arms overhead. The draug pelted it with fire that served to drive it back while Lars regained his cool. “But what are you doing down here then?”

“The frost atronarchs are filled with powerful magic. Their existence alone is enough to tear at the seal, but Swirl the Smart could strengthen it by binding my soul and flesh to it. Otherwise the frost atronarchs would break free in an instant.” The draug told its story with monotone voice. It was a tale it had practised for so long that its words were automated, like recounting the life of another. Lars banged the mace into the upper body of the atronach until it too seized living.

They came to a dead-end where a single frost atronarch sat, unmoving, in the snow with bowed head. Suddenly sensing a disturbance, it got up with a roar. It clenched its fists into deadly blocks of ice. It creaked as it laboriously got up. Lars ran ahead before it could get too much movement and pounded it hard with the mace. The frost atronarch fell back against the wall but it did not disappear. Rather it howled angrily. Liquid fire sprayed from the Aesliip’s hands and bathed the frost atronarch. It shook furiously, so blinded with rage that pain became nothing to it. Lars took the chance to beat on its sides. It swiped at him but the suit absorbed the blow. That left an opening for Lars to bash it in the face.

Lars jumped back as the growling frost atronarch fell forward. Before it could reach him, let alone the ground, the ice creature splintered and left only a few small flames smouldering like ash. They too quickly extinguished. “Sneaky bastard. He always has a way of manipulating people into doing what he wants them to.”

They made their way back down the corridor, but they were not headed for the exit. More frost atronarchs still lurked in the cave. There had been side corridors that they had passed. Some were nothing more than large niches. But they had to double back and recheck everything to find what they had missed. “I am ashamed to have called him friend for so long, but saving someone from death tends to inspire benevolent feelings. Especially if you can’t remember what brought you into danger.” The draug dragged his feet. His legs were too stiff to properly lift. “It was near the end of our civilization, you know? Everyone knew they would be dead soon from the Crimson Plague. Authorities simply could not handle the mass of rioters. Unlike you, I had been chosen for the suppression squads.”

“Tell me,” Lars began, but went quiet again with the uncertainty of how to properly ask the question. He wetted his dry lips to gather his thoughts. “Tell me, where there others like me? Others who were frozen down?”

“Are you kidding? Dozens! And Swirl the Smart seems to have gotten his hooves on the lot of you. He scattered the cryogenic receptacles all over Equestria in hopes of reviving one of you. But breaking the sleep cycle, even by force, is virtually impossible. Not even removing the subject from the tanks helped. Let me ask you something in return. Were you told what you would be going through?”

Lars shook his head as they swung down a darker corridor. The ice glowed weaker. “No. I thought we were frozen down to be sent into space. I even had a dream about waking up on board. Everything was so real.” Lars recalled the few weeks he had spent on the imagined spaceship and all the horrible things that had happened. He shivered.

The draug lord put a hand on Lars’ shoulder. “I am truly sorry. I can’t really tell which of us were worse off. You for being deceived and to wake up on a dead planet, or us for dying quickly. Hey, did you know? You were the first that Swirl the Smart brought to Equestria. He used to show me your sleeping pod all the time before we had to flee. ‘There’s a great man sleeping in there, I can feel,’ he would say.”

Lars chuckled at the dubious honour. “Can you tell me if he also brought a pod to this frozen wasteland? There’s someone I’d really like to find.” They reached the end of corridor. Another dead end. However, Lars put up an arm and looked around the dim tunnel suspiciously. “Wait.”

The snow moved in front of them with a tremendous creak. A frost atronach was rising from the floor. They started to back away but another one was already standing behind them.

“If you have any more questions, you must ask them now,” the draug said while warming up his hands. “My life is tied to the seal. Once it disappears, I will go with it.”

Lars thought it through for no more than a second. The same time it took him to be battle-ready with the mace in his hands. “I came here looking for a friend. A man by the name of Ulrich Pendragon. I believe he was frozen down along with me.”

Aesliip did not reply at first. The frost atronach was not immediately affected by his fire and it took everything that his stiff limbs had to avoid getting pounded into a fine paste. “I do not know the names of those we found, but there was a problem with the one we transported here.” The frost atronach smashed its fist into the wall where Aesliip had his head only moments earlier. Ice broke from the ceiling and rained down on them. “Swirl the Smart grew tired of waiting and tried to resuscitate the man. He had almost had everything figured out by the time we broke him free from his cage. But then we realised he had also been fed a drug that would keep him sleeping. The pod was only to lower his metabolism and ensure he would not starve as he slept. By breaking him free, we disrupted his life support systems and put him in danger.”

“What… what did you do then?” Lars asked anxiously. His frost atronach was in shambles on the floor and rapidly disappearing. Even Aesliip’s was slowly retreating and yelping in pain. “Don’t tell me you killed him? My whole journey here would be for nothing.”

The draug lord stood still as the frost atronach desperately tried extinguishing itself by clapping the flames licking its body. “It’s time for me to go.” Aesliip looked over his shoulder with a sad smile. The frost atronach was clapping in vain. The fires blazed up. Its iron clothes glowed red hot. Great chunks of the frost being fell from it. “Don’t forget about me now. Boy, I hope the Skaal still remembers me as a hero. I left them without a word.”

“No! Don’t you dare die on me yet, you son of a bitch. Tell me what happened! Tell me!”

Lars ran to Aesliip with all haste, but the dying screams of the frost atronach faded away. The seal that they could not see broke with a loud bang and a blinding flash. Lars took to his eyes too late. He stumbled blindly around the corridor, banging into the walls.

At length his vision returned but it was not an encouraging sight. Aesliip was just a thousand year old, dried up mummy lying in a puddle of water. Lars howled with frustration. He pounded the walls with relentless fury until his hands were sore and the mace slipped from his stinging fingers. “Dammit! Every goddamn time,” he huffed and slid down along the wall. For a long time he simply sat on the cold ground, waiting for his strength to return and his rage to subside. “I swear, if anything happened to that human I’m going to personally seek out Swirl the Smart on the bottom of the ocean and strangle him.”

He put the mace back on its leather thong and made his way back through the tunnels slowly. He was still fuming and mute with smouldering fury. Even the return trip through the water did not quell his bile. Korst sat on the shore where Lars had left him. “It’s done,” Lars mentioned in passing through clenched teeth.

Korst got up, able to see silent storm raging inside the human. He offered no sympathies. A pony of the world, accustomed to dealing with others, knew that there was not much to do or say at the time. Whatever it was that was bothering Lars it would be something only he could deal with. “Take your time, Lars Leland. Meet me at my hut when you’re ready to talk. I have some things I need to prepare first anyway.”

The journey across the frozen wastes did him good. Time pushed the memories of what had transpired into past tense and enabled him to process the encounter with Aesliip. They had transported a human to the frozen wasteland and disturbed his sleep process. But what then afterwards? Would Lars enter the ruins of Swirl the Smart’s laboratory only to find nothing? It was not a thought he could bear. Swirl the Smart was a smart cookie. It was almost guaranteed that he had found some way to restore the human or keep him alive. Him? It could be anyone. Lars was feeling more hopeless than angry when he found himself back in Raven Rock.

Following the split between Melon and Trusty Gunner, Lars had been less and less willing to go back to the fort. There was always a chance of running into Trusty Gunner or that rat-faced goon of his. No, Lars did not regret his choice of side. Melon was for once looking genuinely happy and not putting on a brave face despite being stressed out. “I’m looking for a distraction. Got something for me?”

Melon was sitting on a bench outside the inn and enjoyed the fine weather watching all the ponies go about their business. He looked up in surprise to find Lars standing there suddenly. “Lars, it’s a pleasure to meet you! Why you look positively beat. What happened to you?”

Lars looked at his own reflection in the window under which Melon sat. His hair was ruffled and matted with sweat. His face was a mask of sobriety. “It’s nothing, just a bad day at Skaal Village. Do you have a job for me or not?”

“I can’t have something for you every time you show up, you know?” Melon nodded to a group of workers passing by. They smiled back. He looked up to see Lars’ troubled face. “Well… it’s not a big deal, but there has been something bothering me for a while. I just don’t think it to be a job befitting of you.”

“I’ll take anything at this point. I feel in a good mood to crack some skulls.”

Melon looked from side to side before waving Lars closer. Once his face was all the way down to the pony’s twitching ears, Melon resumed the conversation. “All right look, there might be some swindling going on with the mine. Figures that don’t match, you know? What I’m trying to say is, I think someone might be stealing ore and selling it on the side,” he whispered, afraid of anyone listening in.

Lars nodded in understanding. “I see what you mean. Got any suspects?”

Melon took a keychain from inside his doublet and picked out an unassuming iron key with his snout. He bit open the ring and tossed the key to Lars. “I don’t like to suspect any of the colonists. Your job here is to first and foremost clear him of suspicion. Understand, I have given this a lot of thought and I’m doing this only reluctantly, so be inconspicuous until you find the evidence we need. His name is Southern Charge, a unicorn with a great affinity for gems, and he lives just across the street.”

Lars took the spare key and pocketed it, a small smile forming on his lips. “I understand, so don’t worry. What does he look like?”

Another group of workers passed by. With eyes averted, he continued in a lowered voice. “That’s him right there, the dark green one with the harp. Have a look around his hose and leave everything exactly as you found it.”

Lars set to his job, first making sure that Southern Charge, and anypony else, was out of view and then went up to the door. A row of houses were set up against the river but facing away from it. They were typical worker abodes made of simple wood planks and small of size. Likewise, the interior consisted of little more than a bed and some other furniture.

At first glance, there was nothing suspicious to be noted. But since the owner was guaranteed to not return for a while, Lars decided to do more than just stick his head inside. Melon was watching him after all and no telling what somepony might think if they passed by. The entire hut could be viewed with the door shut behind him.

The first thing that caught Lars’ attention was the black dust on the floor. It could have been charcoal from the small hearth but a closer touch revealed it to be stone fragments… particles of ebony ore. Grunting that he had actually found evidence, Lars then had to examine the hut more closely. The ebony dust was mostly just faint drops, perhaps even explainable in a miner’s home, but a chest up against the wall told another story.

Its sides were covered in the dust, as was the unusually heavy lock guarding it. Lars marvelled at the fancy defence mechanism. A simple miner could not afford anything as golden and shiny. There would be no way to open it with proper means, but Lars had brought a heavy mace made of magical ice. First whack and the lock cracked. Second whack and the lock splintered. Third whack and metal-enforced wood was splinters on his boots. Fourth whack, for good measure, rent the lid. It cracked off and revealed… nothing. Lars put his hand down. The bottom was thick with precious dust. He hastily made his retreat with a handful, not even bothering to close the door behind him.

Melon looked up surprised to see Lars walking so nonchalantly where stealth would be a more appropriate tactic. Lars spread the dust out into the air. “I found enough evidence to confirm your suspicion. The guy’s house was loaded with ebony dust. He even had a fancy chest with a really sturdy lock. I’d stake everything he’s your guy.”

“Oh by Celestia, I had hoped it wasn’t him,” Melon said and put a hoof to his temple. “You always suspect the strong surly ones first and then it turns out to be them.”

“What do you want to do with him then?” Lars asked and pounded his mace into his other hand. He stopped that after the first time. His hand nearly turned blue from the cold. He shook it vividly and saved it at the last moment. “I can go apprehend him right now and take him to the fort.”

“On what grounds? Some dust and a mysterious chest?” Melon sighed despairingly and jumped down from the bench. “We need to catch him red-hoofed or he’ll have a chance to weasel out of this, and then we’ll never catch him. Go follow him into the mine, see what he does and catch him stealing.”

Lars put the mace away and wringed his hands together, as if things had been too easy and this was a chance to really unfold himself. “Great. Then I can check out the mine as well.”

The mine entrance was protected by a large wooden shed. Inside, the other ponies from the shift sat around a small table enjoying drinks and food, their pickaxes resting up against the plank walls. They nodded or tipped their helmets at Lars, and he repaid the gesture with a similar one. A wooden door had been built into the rock. The corridor behind steadily slanted downwards. Southern Charge disappeared around a corner at the end of the hallway. Lars crept along the wall, making sure not to be spotted. The dim light from torches and lanterns worked in his favour.

Like angry boils the ebony jutted out of the walls and floor. The black gems were gathered in clusters of rock that had been excavated and unearthed but still protruding from the surfaces. Heavy wooden beams supported the low ceiling clearly meant for creatures lower than Lars. He had to half crouch along the smoothened corridors. Care had been taken into flattening the ground so heavy iron carts could easily be pushed both up and down.

Southern Charge acted like a normal miner for most of the way. Only his constant looking over his shoulders would tip anyone off. Lars quickly vanished into side corridors, hid behind carts or slinked next to outcroppings of ebony. Southern Charge was made none the wiser and carried on. After the last swing, however, he began to sneak and furtively crept into a large room.

Lars leant up against the outside wall and peeked in. It was a storeroom with wooden racks built up along the walls and many, many wooden crates on each shelf. Southern Charge took one last glance before directing his full attention towards his task ahead. Lars walked up from behind.

Southern Charge lifted one of the crates with his magic enveloped around it. Lars cleared his throat and the crate fell to the ground. The lid came off and several chunks of ebony spilled out. “What are you doing in here?” he asked and closed the distance between them. “And don’t tell me you were just checking inventory.”

“I’m a miner. This is a mine.”

Southern Charge was remarkably calm and unfazed about being caught. Lars looked around them. “No, this is a restricted area.” Lars rested his hand on the handle of his mace by his hip. “As you said yourself, you’re a miner. There are specific ponies that take care of the storeroom.”

“Well then, I just got lost.”

“Likely story. Tell me why you’re doing this and I will consider being lenient with you.”

Southern Charge tried pushing Lars aside but the human had a good grip on the freezing Stahlrim mace. Southern Charge jolted from the chill before he could even touch the mace and jumped back. His eyes hardened and his teeth gritted. “Please, he’s got my family.”

“See, now we’re getting somewhere. Who threatened you?” Lars said while swinging his mace around.

Southern Charge then tried giving him a wide birth but Lars put him back into his place. “He’ll kill me if I tell you,” he replied while trying to wrest his arm away from Lars.

Lars gave his sweating, shivering face a long look and then released him. “All right, then you can just nod. Were you set up by Trusty Gunner?” he asked with a cold, murderous voice.

At first Southern Charge was silent. His face was a roiling storm of emotions. Countless options were weighed under anxious sweating. He wetted his parched lips and finally nodded ever so slightly. “So what happens now?” he asked with a quavering voice.

Lars looked contemplatively back at the door. “If you care about your family at all, you will remain here until we sort this out, you got that?” He was very insistent in his tone. Though Southern Charge looked willing to object, he also knew he had gone too far. There was no protesting now. Lars trustingly left the store room and closed the door behind him. He returned out into the fresh air and located Melon again, recounting every detail.

“Yes, I suppose we expected as much from the beginning. Now we know for certain. With Southern Charge’s testimony we can bring in Trusty Gunner. This mine is running well enough without his sponsorship, anyway. Why don’t you go check up on Trusty Gunner and see what he has to say for himself, eh?”

“With pleasure!” Lars cracked his knuckles and looked southeast toward the fort. “It’s time we made a stand against him and showed we can run things without him.”

Lars boarded the ship back to Fort Frostmoth and kept to fore of the vessel. The wind whipped against his face but it brought a refreshed smile to him. As the fort came closer, however, his face hardened with determination. He jumped off board almost before the gangway could be lowered. His murderous aura repelled anyone in his way. Even inside the fort, guards made space for him. Repairs had not commenced yet and all the rubble still lay where it had fallen.

He marched up to Trusty Gunner’s officer and very nearly burst down the door. It was lucky for the door that it was unlocked. Trusty Gunner stood behind his desk and looked out of the slit in the wall to the frozen wasteland beyond. “You come in such a hurry. Is there anything bothering you, my friend?”

There were a lot of things bothering Lars, each one making him angrier than the last. It wasn’t just the thefts but also his frustrations and doubts that boiled over inside him. Only his utmost restraint kept him nailed to the floor before the desk. “I know you’ve been skimming the ore,” he blurted out and looked around the office. Fine tapestries, exquisite food and drinks all over the desk and his doublet lacquered with fine threads of gold and silver. It was all starting to make sense. “The mine is struggling to keep up revenue and here you sit, stuffing your face.”

Trusty Gunner shook his head and turned around, a sickening smile on his face. “The mine, struggling? My dear friend, you must be misunderstanding something here.” He lifted a beautiful flower with blue and red colours to his lips and plucked off each petal with his teeth, taking his time to chew and swallow. “The mine is a thundering success. The way it continues to expand and all the ore we get from its belly… how can you even begin to say such lies?”

“You don’t feel any shame, do you?” Lars said with hands curled up into fists. His knuckles whitened as he tightened. “Melon keeps up a brave face, that’s just the type of pony he is, but I know the budget is tight. He asked me to choose between a trader shop and smith, because he couldn’t afford both. He had to ask me to take care of a captain with personal problems because he couldn’t afford to hire another one.”

Trusty Gunner simply laughed and flicked the flower back down on his desk. “You know, you are a strange one, my friend. You come in here asking me to confess to wild allegations when you yourself are guilty of hypocrisy.” The confused expression on Lars’ face only made Trusty Gunner smirk harder. “You’re accepting all those fat bonuses from Melon, aren’t you? He’s paying you handsomely for all the little jobs that you do.”

Though he tried, Lars could make no compelling arguments against that. He swayed back and forth angrily, constantly wanting to burst out in a tirade or tear something apart, but at length he calmed himself and directed a trembling finger at Trusty Gunner. “You’re right. I thought the mine was going fine so I accepted the payments. But you know something? I’m going to give them back. I haven’t even used a single bit since I came up here. I can earn my pension some other way,” Lars finally said.

“Well isn’t that charitable of you.” Trusty Gunner sat down behind his desk and sighed deeply. “But, I assure you that you will not have trouble with theft anymore. Moonstone, ah… my assistant, is already on it.”

Lars took a step back, thrown off his game. “What do you mean he’s on it?” he asked nervously, fearing what the answer might be.

Trusty Gunner folded his hoofs on the desk and clopped them together. “You didn’t think I would notice? I am the one sitting with the papers. Melon at best would have a gut feeling for the theft.” A chill breeze blew in from the window and played with his lime green mane. “I noticed the inconsistencies myself just this morning and sent Moonstone out to look into it. I am certain things have already been dealt with.”

A cold that had nothing to do with the wind ran down Lars’ spine. It was quickly replaced with scorching hot anger that heated up his ears. “You... you son of a bitch.” Lars halfway bolted to the door, but he couldn’t get himself to leave it either without reprimanding Trusty Gunner. “That pony had a wife and kids that you yourself threatened if he didn’t cooperate.”

Trusty Gunner wagged his hoof disapprovingly. “Conjectures. A greedy miner caught red-hoofed is likely to say anything.” He leant back in his seat with hoofs behind his head. “If anything happens to him, if he had a little accident, you would have a hard time tracing it back to me or my own. It’s not too late to come work for me again, Lars. I can make life very sweet for you, but I can also make it exceedingly hard. The choice is all yours.”

No longer wishing to dwell and discuss, Lars shot out of the room like a ball from a cannon. He took two steps at a time to get outside as quickly as possible. Walking, even running, would not bring him back to the colony rapidly enough and the ship was still moored to the pier. Despite the captain insisting on waiting for more passengers or goods, Lars threatened him with all sorts of tortures. A man wielding a heavy mace tends to get his will when angered.

The boat touched down on Raven Rock only ten minutes later. Instantly he could feel the change in the air. There were only a few ponies on the docks, and only because they had pressing jobs to attend to. The rest were gathered up by the mine entrance but no one was let in. The crowd parted to allow Lars closer. Melon stood there in the entrance, looking bigger than he ever had, and held the mob away. “I did not expect you back. But I am glad you are here nonetheless; did you get anything from Trusty Gunner?”

“Nothing good, and nothing that we didn’t already know. It’s Southern Charge, isn’t it? He’s dead, right?” Lars asked with a sombre voice to which Melon nodded.

“We don’t know how it happened. The miners say they were dismissed by an authoritative pony.” The miners Lars had passed earlier stood at the fore of the ring and nodded. “Sounds like that lackey Trusty Gunner always drags around with him.”

Lars looked into the mine shack. A shape lay there before the entrance with a white cloth draped around his body. “He’ll get away with it this time. We have no hard evidence to indicate him, and Celestia is too trusting to act on suspicions alone. We can only wait for Trusty Gunner to make a mistake and tolerate his ‘management’ until then.” Lars pressed his way through the throng of ponies. Hopefully a new day would bring fresh answers.