//------------------------------// // Chapter One: Dreams Fall Through // Story: Under a Grey Sky // by Achaian //------------------------------// Chapter One Dreams Fall Through There was no warning. The dawn cracked over the rolling hills to the east, the distant lonely mountains jutting out of the plains, the low-hung deepness of the forest to the west, the vast plains to the north, and the town settled just out of the center, just outside of somewhere. Ditzy lay in bed again, wondering when the next visit would come. Having processed at last the events that had culminated in fire and ashes, she somehow found a longing for the sky-hung city in the distance. Her earlier travels in life, all years past except for the recent debacle, had not been enjoyable. They were the cost to find the home she had now, and to escape her wretched situation of birth. Yet situations of birth are much more than location; they are a mixture of heritage, legacy, learning, and character as well. Sometimes the scars of the past lingered, distant or recent. But that was not the case, for once. Ditzy rolled around in bed, her flaxen-blond mane peeking out under the edges of her pillow. The perpetual headache of worry had subsided, at last; she had given her last damn. And perhaps that was a good thing. Definitely a good thing… After she had taken Dinky to school, an activity so normal and trivial as to be surreal, Ditzy had found the inspiration only to flop back into her bed and let its softness massage her into blissful oblivion. Today was an off day, or so she assumed. Ditzy rolled again, mane splayed out beneath her, all underneath the warmth of blankets. I’ll go into the office later… do some work, catch up ‘nother day… A more pristine self would have protested the apparent laziness, but Ditzy had been pushed to her absolute limit and could tolerate no other thought than rest. So she lay, and for a long and fortunate while Ditzy had what she ostensibly wanted. Hours passed before her mind wandered to thoughts of her monochromatic visitor and guest, and the slightest tweak of guilt pierced her restful repose. Ditzy rolled out of the morass of blankets, noted it was nearly noon, and with a reluctant groan began the arduous process of removing herself from her warm bed. I really ought to go see how he’s doing… he might need some distractions or some company after being let down like that. It’s a crazy business… maybe he can take more time to explain it to me. Traipsing out of her room and down the stairs, Ditzy shook her messy mane into a passable façade of neatness. Although she had slept well, she had not slept much. Ditzy imagined Tick had experienced something not quite as restful. Especially given… Ditzy shook those memories off, shut the door to worrisome speculation and retrospect. Glancing in a mirror, Ditzy caught a view of her own morning demeanor. Ugh. She was not resplendent, to use a choice word. Nonetheless, the young mare and mother reached the end of the hall and the guest room that Tick had taken temporary tenure of. Before she did, however, Ditzy on sudden impulse glanced into the living room, the now-empty room. What seemed like ages ago, Ditzy had glanced in upon Tick and her daughter playing a game, and the memory sparked—something—no— …What? Disoriented, Ditzy shook off the vision and continued down the hall. Entirely too tired to trawl into vague feelings, Ditzy decided easily that she would rather deal with the more tangible issue of Tick—or at least, take notice of his issues. And so she knocked. Yet the knocks were long echoed by silence. Ditzy put her ear to the door, listened for a moment, called out for Tick in a mild volume, and after hesitating swung open the door. Yet the room was empty, the bed unruffled, the dust resettling. He must have made it. Light confusion followed Ditzy as she swept through the house in her late-morning haze, checking the rooms and finding them lacking of a particular rhythmic-eyed visitor. He might have gone to the library, or he might still be upset and is running around trying to blow off steam; he could be drinking again, but there’s not too many places to do that around here and it’s really early to be doing that, but I can’t say I’d blame him. I’d better go looking. Her peace would not last much longer. In the foyer, Ditzy swung her mailbag up onto her shoulder, thinking of stopping by the office as she searched for Tick. She might as well search for him and catch up on work simultaneously, yet Ditzy could not shake the pervasive odd feeling of the morning as she shifted the bag around on her shoulder. As Ditzy exited her haven, she glanced back—and on the edge of her vision, she realized the source of her odd feeling. That’s not my bag… Turning around and retreating back into her house, Ditzy held it up before her eyes, spotting the guard’s insignia on the black material, and a twist of memory locked her joints: Ditzy’s mind raced, and then she remembered. The book! And Tick— Ditzy doubled back, checked the bedroom again, and the revelation became much clearer. Tick hadn’t made the bed. He hadn’t slept at all. ~~~~~~~~ In the blessed dark of a back room in an inn, the last guest lay in the half-light, staring up at the ceiling that seemed as distant as a cathedral’s arch, memory locked in the combat of only a few hours ago. The late shift of workers hadn’t bothered to talk upon seeing the grimace in the armor, the wicked cut of shadows created by the joints and the lone candle. Those metal shells lay on the floor by the bed, only the sinuous leather pieces left covering the night-winged guard. Eris would not sleep, for her cause was yet unfulfilled. “Rest until dawn cracks the horizon, and then search him out. Thy ambition hast seized our attention, yet more important things lie ahead. Go, knowing that we watch you with attentive eyes…” Luna would bring glory to Eris’s station, would bring recognition for her ability. Yet Eris has not said all that could be said to her commander, but the doubt of reserving that personal encounter she had shut down before she arrived. Confliction was not something Eris was familiar with. For split between two brothers her desires lay. Tick had disgraced her, had challenged her supremacy and for a split second broken past all barriers. He had tried to harm Eris, but had only managed to humiliate her in light of her philosophy. Self-control was Eris’s highest principle, and Tick had made her lose it, if only for a moment. Out of all the pains he could have inflicted, that galled her the most. Eris would find him and break him, show him the truth of her strength of will. Quirk was a means to an end, a pawn for her to achieve what else she valued most: respect in her order, the dignity of the chain of command, and recognition for her talent, her values unbroken. It was her lot in life to be a guard, but it was one she had chosen with dignity. But all she was left now was an unspeakable truth: I can only hunt one. And I can honor one tradition or the other… Growling inside, Eris rolled out of bed and forced the feelings of confliction into a box, and then tossed the box into the pit where she disposed of her many other trials. Unraveling the knots of her remaining armor, she fitted it away into the plate armor. It was practical, efficient. Eris felt it snap satisfyingly into its smallest form, and for a moment distracted herself as she slid it underneath the bed. It would stand out too much to be wandering the streets ready for battle. Eris shook herself out, forgetting all tension as she sharpened her mind for the hunt ahead. It would stand out enough that her wings were webbed instead of feathered, and eyes slit into piercing ovals. She did not know which she was going to hunt. She stopped asking the question, and it ceased to exist in her mind. Eris had not found an answer, but she didn’t need one to find them. ~~~~~~~~ To walk without armor was not a nervous experience, not something of weakness, uncertainty, or vulnerability. On the contrary, it was to feel the air prickling against her skin: to excite the nerves and prime the instinct, to hone the ears on a thousand vibrations and to move unfettered and swiftly. Eris slipped out of the populated streets quickly, a black flicker avoiding all but the quickest of glances. It’s not far now. To hunt properly, a guide was needed. One familiar with the prey. ~~~~~~~ A solid knock broke the morbid spell, and Ditzy jolted back towards the foyer. Damn, that had better be him! He has to have the book. Ditzy cursed herself as she knocked into the end table, the guard’s bag catching on the edge before she untangled herself and opened the door. Solid and dusky, her coat just off black, the bat pony simply stared back at Ditzy. A dark blue mane cascaded to the shoulders and beyond, several inches longer than average. For a few moments, Ditzy looked on in blank confusion until Eris’s growing irritation at the silence provoked her into speaking. “I didn’t think your mane would be—” Ditzy blurted without thinking before Eris interrupted her. What are you doing here? “There’s no time to waste. Princess Luna has ordered that I hunt down the missing member of your expedition.” “Then what are you—” “Your…. expedition.” The silence hung like a curtain separating the two from the rest of the world, and Ditzy noticed that Eris’s glare was no less sharp unarmored. Her slit eyes rolled as Ditzy stood and watched, unaired thoughts flitting about like will-o-the-wisps in the sudden situation. “The fault is on your shoulders for letting him loose. We have to get looking before the trail gets any colder. Get Tick and…” Eris tilted her head as she spoke, noticing the bag lying behind Ditzy, insignia unmistakable. “Why do you have a guard’s bag?” The interrogative words pierced Ditzy’s myriad thoughts like sharp cold spikes of air. Am I allowed to tell here about the book? And Tick is gone, and he probably took it with him, damn, damn, damn… “Tick is gone; he left sometime after we got back. I don’t know where he is. I can’t just get up and—how long is this going to take? I have a daughter, a job, obligations, there’s—” Eris shifted abruptly, turning to scan the streets around them and cutting off Ditzy’s words. “Princess Luna will be here later this day. If you have concerns, take them up with her. We have to deal with the more important things. Even more so now that you’ve let the other brother slip away.” Ditzy seethed, a clear, vitriolic anger that was not lost on the unimpressed Eris. “You gave her your word,” Eris said simply, coldly. Ditzy swept back inside and slammed the door behind her. The last glimpse of Eris didn’t even flinch as the door crashed, booming on its frames only an inch from her face. Celestia help me. Ditzy staggered, the room spinning before she managed to right herself. I thought this was over, at least for a while. I should’ve known better… When I find Tick, I’m going to kill him. ~~~~~~~~ Eris moved with the lazy gait of a hunting cat, eyes casually observing everything. She was the antipode of Ditzy’s smoldering anger; calm, collected, and waiting. Yet Ditzy managed to keep her grievances locked inside, to Eris’s approval. Swiftly meandering through the center of town and out, Ditzy made a few quiet inquiries while Eris silently watched the scenes around, never getting too close to Ditzy, never chancing the odd observer making the connection that the two of them were looking for the same thing. Ditzy may have put her anger to the side, but Eris could still see the tension in her movements. Eris paused to watch Ditzy strike up a short conversation with a pony at a stall and then slipped into an alley, running into a stall owner as she did. “Sorry,” the mare said, moving around her. Eris brushed her aside, not even bothering to glance at her, and leaped into the sky. Alighting on a roof, she scanned towards the edges of town, cursing the bright morning’s sun. We won’t find them here if they’ve fled. We can’t even give chase to a trail. It might be futile, but there is no excuse not to try anyways. Eris dropped down and walked out and around the building, making eye contact with Ditzy and motioning for them to move on with an imperceptible dart of her eyes. They walked on, away from the center as the after-morning flow of shoppers, errand-runners, and wanderers began to dissipate. As the crowd thinned, Ditzy’s dour demeanor came more and more into focus, a moody stare that kept her eyes on something a thousand yards away. Eris sighed as she watched Ditzy sink. Useless… Far ahead of Ditzy, Eris glanced back again to catch a glint in Ditzy’s eye. The brooding mare whirled around and rose up like a hornet before diving back down out of Eris’s sight around the corner of a building. Thought roared into motion as Eris launched herself after the striking mare, cutting a tight turn around the corner to find something she had not expected to see. “Where is he?! Where is Tick?” Or lucky, maybe. Eris walked up, eyeing the bandages drawn tight around Quirk, and noted with disapproval Ditzy’s unrestrained anger. Despite, she raised an eyebrow at how effectively Ditzy had pinned her prey. This must be his brother, the one Princess Luna was talking about. “Get off him,” Eris cut in shortly, and pulled Quirk upright after Ditzy moved off of him, her glare unmoving. Ditzy and Eris spoke simultaneously. “You’re going to come with us and fulfill the terms of your contract.” “Have you seen Tick? Do you know where he is? Why in Tartarus didn’t you come back?” Quirk shook his head, wincing, holding his side, words thickly coated in momentary pain and everlasting sarcasm. “I’m glad to see I was missed in my absence. What’s this about Tick? I’m not exactly in a condition to go much of anywhere myself.” The avenue held quiet, listening. Ditzy moved in close, her glare a menace as threatening as the blood rising inside her. Quirk, wary, glanced at Eris yet found her unmoved, a casual observer. Still, he noticed that the pedestrian guard seemed to be paying more attention to the mare in front of him. “Listen to me,” Ditzy hissed, a whisper cutting like an icicle through Quirk’s chest, freezing him in place. “I might, assuming you bother to tell me what’s going on and why I’m being assaulted openly in the streets.” Quirk rubbed his sore wounds lightly, leaning away from the venomous mare in front of him and keeping cautious eyes on her. “I’d let her do worse considering you’ve dishonored and abandoned your expedition." Ditzy glanced back at Eris in annoyance, a caustic glare that Eris ignored flat-out. “Well, I’ll be glad to be in such great company then,” Quirk deadpanned, his eyes narrowing as he glanced back and forth between the two. “Although I’m not sure I’d be able to stick around, even if it does promise to be such a good time…” Eris looked back at him with her casual and seemingly permanent slight frown, unimpressed by his dryness. “You go willingly, or I tie you up and carry you on my back.” Quirk paused for a split second, and then a crooked grin crossed his face. “I wouldn’t mind you giving me a free ride, although the ropes might be a bit much for the first—” Eris walked up to Quirk as he talked, let out a miniscule one-sided grin, reached up with a hoof as if to touch his face, and with a swift crack to the head knocked him to the ground. “It’s not a negotiation. Are you going to come with us, or will your attitude need to be adjusted further?” Quirk muttered and spat some curses that would have made Ditzy blanch, had she not already stepped back in wariness from the scene. Ditzy watched the spectacle as she might an old satirical play, at a distance despite being right next to it, disgusted by both the violence and Quirk’s word-twisting yet harboring a sizable-enough (if somewhat repressed) desire to do just what Eris had done to Quirk. But how could she just hit him like that when he’s clearly injured?! I don’t think she’s allowed to do that… I hope she’s not allowed to do that. Eris pulled the still-cursing Quirk upright, gave him a second to regain his balance, and asked again. “Yes, yes, fine…” Quirk stared at Eris with undisguised wariness heavily coated in anger, and as she turned away and started to walk he glanced back at Ditzy. “That sounded more painful than it was,” Quirk remarked offhandedly. “She really didn’t hit me that hard. I’ve handled much worse.” A wolfish grin passed his face for a moment at some undisclosed memory, but quickly fled. “It’s just, as you plainly see, I’ve not been overly lucky recently.” Quirk watched her for a moment more, but Ditzy said nothing, her expression guarded. Her thoughts were still whirring around and making sense of the event. She looked to Eris, who had moved several yards away, only for her to stare back at them. She beckoned. “There’s not much time. This mess has to be figured out before Princess Luna gets back.” Eris kept her voice low as the few distant ponies who had watched the spectacle faded back into other lives. Yes, Ditzy thought with a tinge of bitterness and a hidden blade-edged glare at Quirk. All this had better be explained... They traveled back to the house, the sun breaking through each gap in the trees on the quiet avenue. No quarter was given to the blessed shadows and sanctuaries, blinding flashes obscuring thoughts even as minds darkened. The sun touched them all with its blades of light, intermittent flares leaping into the souls of the regretful companions, and all the horizons of the mind were consumed, burned away by sunlight.