//------------------------------// // Side Chapter 1 - Cross and Stripes // Story: Headless, not Heartless // by Thadius0 //------------------------------// The citizens of Newvale were beginning to turn in for the night after a long day of Psyenergy training, as well as experimenting with the powers of Djinn. Most everyone (not ‘everypony’, as those who lived here had begun to learn to mimic the words of the Great Empty Armored One, not to mention it was just rude to those who weren’t ponies) had retreated to one of the ten houses for the night, even though Celestia hadn’t completely set the sun yet. Crossed Gears was going to sleep in the same house as ShiverSpine, the pony had said he would help but they wanted to be sure he wouldn’t run off, for both their sake and his own. They were still in the middle of the Everfree Forest, after all, but thankfully none of the wildlife had come into their community, probably instinctively scared by their powers. Silver Cross checked on everyone in one of the houses, noting that they were beginning to settle in. One particular source of amusement was how a small unicorn filly was already asleep and snuggling up to the manticore, who had taken the name of “Fluffy” after some time. Despite the concern from her adoptive father, Fluffy didn’t mind the foal’s company. “Hm, gonna hafta remember their names,” he muttered. “Can’t very well help lead the community if ah can’t do that much.” The preacher stallion adjusted his cassock, feeling the familiar and comfortable shift of the fifteen silver blades under it, and turned to exit the house. He had one issue to attend to. Thankfully, she was right next door, barely ten hoofs away. The zebra shamaness, Aboyami, had been lucky enough to have her own housing, a small tent she carried with her everywhere. It was made of cloth, both water resistant and fire resistant as he had found out, and pitched with enough strong lumber poles to give it four walls and a slightly elevated roof. He stepped inside the rather large tent, seeing there was enough room for five or six fully-grown ponies to sleep inside, but most of the room was taken up by bags of materials as well as a table with a small pot in the center, reducing the space down to the point where only three ponies could even enter before feeling cramped. The mare turned to face him, looking away from the contents of one of her bags. She pulled back the hood of her skeletal cloak and brushed one of the bangs away from her eyes. “Greetings, Silver Cross. May I help you?” she asked in that unmistakable accent, clearly showing that Equestrian was not her native language. “Evenin’, Aboyami. Ya mind if ah have a little chat with ya?” the white coated stallion asked. Her eyes widened in surprise for moment. “Yes, you may, if I may ask the first question.” “Go right ahead,” the unicorn responded as he entered. “What has happened to your speech?” The stallion tilted his head in confusion for a moment before nodding his head in realization. “Ah, that’s right. Ya haven’t heard how a usually talk, have ya? What ya heard before was my ‘adressin’ voice’. Use it when ah hafta talk ta crowds. Need ta make sure they understand what ah’m sayin’.” “Ah, I see. I hope it was not rude of me to ask.” “No, not ‘tall lass. Now, if ya don’t mind, and ah hope ah’m not being rude here, but ah was wonderin’ why yer here all by yer lonesome? Ah get that ya might want yer privacy an all, everyone here does, but it might help the place feel more like a community than just a place where a buncha us are livin' if ya slept in one of the houses. Don’t want ya to be looked at as the black sheep even among us dissenters, if ya pardon my choice a phrases.” “Not at all. And I understand completely. I had merely hoped to check on my inventory and perhaps make a few potions before doing so. It should not be more than a few days.” “Ah, thas good. Good ta hear it,” the stallion nodded, his unkempt black mane shaking as he did. They stayed like that for a minute or two more, neither moving nor talking. Aboyami broke the silence. “Is there more?” The unicorn sighed before his expression became much more serious. “’Fraid there is, lass. Ah’ve been keepin’ my eye on ya this past week or so. Seems any time there’s someone asking Dullahan a question it’s usually you. Been that way since day one.” “Is that a problem?” she asked, her voice no longer friendly but not hostile. “It’d be one thing if it was curiosity, but ah can tell it’s more than that. Ya’ve been practically pickin’ at the Great One. Why’s that?” “I simply wish to understand him more, to understand his motivations and gauge his movements. To see if he is truly someone I wish to follow.” “And why wouldn’t ya? Yer not actually thinkin’ it would be better ta go back and live under their royal sunbutt and moonflank, would ya?” a spark of anger rising in him as he mentioned the derogatory terms for the two Princesses. “As of yet, I have no reason to believe he is an ill-fit leader, but I will continue to observe.” “Ya tryin’ ta tell me ya ain’t convinced yet? Ya tryin’ ta tell me that ya think the Great Empty Armor ain’t worth yer time? Is that what yer sayin?” he asked, his tone steadily growing more hostile. “I said no such thing. And now I am curious as to why that is what you heard,” the Zebra asked, her voice calm in face of aggression. “As ah’ve said before, ah’ve dedicated most of my life to the Church of the Empty Armor, fightin’ the evil in the darkness that sunbutt couldn’t see, before she took it down. Now ah’m getting to help lead a flock not just in his name, but under his direct command. How could anyone, pony or zebra, not see how great that is?” he asked, pride swelling to the point that it almost outshone his anger. “And I am very happy for you. But I am not you, and I have my own viewpoints, my own things which I am focused on. And one is to never follow any leader, no matter how godly or suitable, blindly.” “YA SAYIN’ AH’M JUST AN IDIOT FOLLOWIN’ A SUIT OF AMROR BLINDLY!? YA CALLIN’ ME AN IDIOT!? IS THAT WHAT YER SAYIN’!?” he shouted, pulling one of his bayonets out and pointing it at her. Despite this the shamaness stayed remarkably calm. “Please calm yourself, I meant no-“ “YOU’D BEST WATCH YERSELF, LASSIE! AH’VE GOT MY EYE ON YA LIKE A HAWK NOW, AND IF AH GET EVEN THE SLIGHTEST *cough* HINT THAT YA *cough* MIGHT TURN ON *cough* TURN ON US *cough* AH’LL *cough* AH’LL *cough* *wheeze*” The stallion collapsed to the ground and dropped his weapon, coughing and wheezing violently. “Cross? What is-?” Aboyami asked before gasping as the pony began to hack up blood. She sprinted outside, banging on the doors of the houses screaming “Mercury adept! Come quickly!” ------ Silver cross awoke to find himself being tended to by a unicorn mare, Flare if he remembered her name correctly. She had shown some skill in healing during the training they did earlier. He doubted she expected to use it so soon. The mare noticed his eyes opening turned her head. “He’s awake,” she called behind her. “Good, I am almost finished,” came a familiar voice. Cross craned his head a bit to see Aboyami, her hood down, the rings on her forelegs jingling as she mixed something in her bowl. He could actually see fumes rising from it. Cross noted he was still inside the tent. Maybe they thought it wasn’t safe to move him. “What’s she doing?” he managed to ask. “Making something to help ease the pain in your lungs,” the unicorn answered. He noticed she still had her hooves on his chest, occasionally casting a healing spell, Ply if he remembered, whenever he started to shiver in pain. “Breathe this,” Aboyami ordered. Cross hadn’t even noticed she’d moved in front of him. He looked at the concoction in front of him and grimaced. It didn’t smell awful, but it was by no means a pleasant smell. “What the hay is it?” “It will ease your pain.” Too weak to argue he sniffed, only to wince. The stuffed burned his nostrils and throat, but not very badly. “Breathe it in now or I will force your muzzle into it and make you breathe it,” she threatened. Cross tried again, prepared for the burning this time, and inhaled deeply. As he exhaled, the burning died down to a warm sensation, almost as if he was getting a heated massage all the way down to his lungs. He eagerly breathed again, the feeling of bliss and relief making the initial mild pain seem trivial in comparison. This happened a few more times until Aboyami set the bowl down just out of hoofs reach. “That is enough. We don’t want you to suffer too many ill effects,” she said gently. “What kinda ‘ill-‘?” he asked as he raised his head, only to suddenly feeling dizzy and put his head back down on his makeshift pillow, one of Aboyami’s bags that judging from the feel contained a large amount of herbs. “My herbal remedy causes some disorientation, unfortunately. It should not last longer than ten minutes,” she explained before turning to face Flare. “Thank you, I will be able to handle him from here.” Flare nodded and left the two alone, Aboyami going to her table and pulling up the large pot he had seen before and began to put in ingredients from herbs, to liquids, and powders. “What’re ya doin’ now?” he asked, still somewhat dizzy, the aroma of the bowl not far from him barely reaching his nostrils. “Making some medicine that you will be able to use for your lungs on your own. From what Flare told me your disease is chronic and has been with you some time, though not fatal,” she answered, not taking her eyes from her work. “How can she tell?” “I am not sure. It must be a Mercury adept thing.” “Huh. So, why are ya helpin’ me?” “Why would I not?” “’Cause we were just havin’ a shoutin’ match not too long ago, weren’t we?” “You were the one shouting, not me. I deny my healing arts to no one, it is only others who can refuse my aid. It is the way of my tribe, to travel the lands and heal wounds, whether they be physical or otherwise.” “What do ya mean ‘otherwise’?” “Considering you have been listening to my questioning of Dullahan, surely you remember what I mentioned on the day of our arrival.” “That you could raise the dead? Ah’ll be honest, I thought it was a load of horse apples.” “It is no lie, though I would not question your doubt. It is a service my tribe has provided to others, the chance to speak with the deceased and put to rest their grievances with the departed.” “Your whole tribe can raise the dead?” “No, we were merely able to speak with the departed, though we would have to speak for them. This is not considered particularly odd in Zebafrica, but here in Equestria-“ “They thought ya were pullin’ their tails, right?” “Indeed. I discovered my ability to raise the dead by accident and I honed this ability thinking that it would help my services if those who wished to contact their departed loved ones could actually speak to them themselves.” “But then ya were caught and billed as ‘necromancer’ by her royal sunbutt, right?” The Zebra looked somewhat surprised to see the preacher had caught on. “Indeed, not her directly, but her guards labeled me as such.” “That’s why ya hate the Princesses?” “’Hate’ is a bit too strong a word for what I feel for them. Too often I have seen others who could benefit from my services, any of them, deny me the chance to help because their fear of me, either as zebra, a criminal, or a ‘necromancer.’” “That’s harsh, lass. How long ya been runnin’?” “Five years.” “So how ya been evadin’ the long hoof of the law that whole time? Surely ya couldn’t have just been runnin’?” “Though I did not understand the source of the powers, my Psyenergy helped. I could summon spirits and instill fear into others, or grow vines to entangle them. Or I could use a less elegant method.” “Whaddya mean?” The Zebra smirked and reached under her cloak, pulling out a spherical object with a fuse. “Though none are deadly, they are at least lighter than yours,” she said before putting it away. “Ah guess, but ah could never part with my blessed blades. They were made from the cross of the church that sunbutt made me tear down.” “They have tasted blood?” she asked in a somewhat disapproving tone. “Someone has to put down the monsters wearing pony skin in this world, ‘specially when sunbutt’s royal lapdogs can’t do anything worth a damn.” There was held silence. Then Aboyami came forward and pulled the bowl away. “You can stand now.” Cross rose to his hooves, feeling much better than before. The zebra’s herbal incense had done wonders. “What is your goal, Silver Cross? What do you wish to see happen in this world?” “Ah want what the Great One Wants, ah want to see this world purged of the evil in the darkness. Anypony, anyone, who dares to scheme and sin will find no safe haven in the shadows, ‘cause that’s where we’ll be,” he answered proudly. “And the Princesses, what do you wish of them?” “… In the past ah would’ve said to probably give her a nice long cut along the cutie mark for bein’ so blind, but ah guess whatever Dullahan thinks is best is what ah’ll do.” “I see. You follow him and revere him so highly because you see him making the change you wish to see, and for that you would follow him to Tartarus and back, correct?” “Ah guess that sounds about right,” he answered, anger starting to spark in him, but holding it back this time. “And you?” Whaddya ya want out of this?” “I wish for the sisters to admit to their mistakes, but more importantly I wish to see them correct their mistakes. Their constant belief in the best of ponykind, of all kinds, would be commendable if it did not make them so naïve. I do not believe they are corrupt or even blind, merely flawed.” Aboyami turned and retrieved the previously dropped bayonet from the table, the unicorn noting that it had been polished to a shine. “That is why I question Dullahan. I also believe him to be flawed, but nowhere near as blind as the sisters. I wish him to be the catalyst that will change them and this world for the better. And so I question him, so I may keep him on the right path.” Cross grunted at that. It wasn’t an answer he liked, calling the Great Empty Armor flawed, but he found it acceptable. “Silver Cross, though I do not approve of your methods to stop evil, I see you are a good hearted pony who, despite his flaws, truly wishes the best for others.” She presented him with his weapon. “I believe you will not use this blade in blind rage, and I hope you will prove me correct.” Cross looked startled for a moment at the way she held his weapon, like it was a sacred treasure to be returned to its rightful owner. He took the blade and slid it under his cassock. “Thank ya, lass.” The shamaness turned back to her table and poured the contents of the pot, a thick creamy like substance, into a small jar. “This will aid you if you ever find yourself in pain again,” she said, handing him the concoction. “Spread a small amount along your chest should you feel pain and breath the vapors. Wash it off when they subside. It is not as powerful as what I used on you today, but it will also not have the ill effects you suffered.” “Ah thank ya again, lassie,” he said as he took it. “But be warned, your rage, if not tempered and controlled, will one day consume you. Even if your disease is not fatal the problems will have other ill effects on your life. Rein in your anger so that when you do unleash it will be even more terrifying to those we must defeat.” Cross considered her words for a moment before responding. “Aboyami, ah can’t say ah agree with ya on everything, but as far as ah’m concerned yer ok in my book. It’s a pleasure to have you with us.” She smiled gently at that and nodded. As the unicorn turned to leave he stopped and turned back. “By the way, about that special service of yers. Can ya summon the dead from anywhere?” “No. I can communicate with spirits from anywhere provided I have some kind of possession to focus on, but for actually raising the dead I require a body.” She smirked. “Or at least the head.” “… Heh, for a zebra who don’t like hurtin’ no one ya can be downright terrifyin’ if ya want to.”