In Want for a Wand

by Leila Drake


Level 14 - Affliction

After staying at the Chapel for the night, Twilight and Darren took off again. They had used the chance to buy a large amount of food along with blankets for Twilight and some healing potions.

Following the trail was getting harder and harder. New snow fell almost every night and it was so cold that Twilight began to use a spell against the cold which, in turn, only wore her out more quickly. She had already lost some weight by now; her mane was duller than it had ever been, the highlights almost completely faded out, and she could see the worry on Darren's face whenever he looked at her. A strange feeling of insecurity and uneasiness was getting a hold of her and she had trouble falling asleep at night.

Since their talk in the tent, both she and Darrenhad behaved a little awkwardly around each other but now it was gradually getting better. After Twilight had promised that she would not follow him when he left at night, Darren decided to tell her an idea he had been thinking about for some time.

He landed the griffin in a valley that was so small that it was more of a crack in the landscape than anything else. It was surrounded by large rocks, though, which made it a hard place to spot. Darren helped Twilight hide and get a fire going. Then, he left her alone for a few hours. She waited for him, warming her bones at the tiny source of light and worrying herself mindless until he returned, refreshed and with his armor in need of cleaning. They did not lose a single word about that evening. Instead, they gathered their thoughts and ideas of how to rescue Jonathan and the others. They were very sure that the abductors were Blood Elves because of the tracks of their mounts.

"They are called hawkstriders", said Darren. "Flightless birds. You would like them, they are exceptionally colorful."

"What I would really like is to know why the elves attacked at all", muttered Twilight. "Anyway, what was that idea you wanted to talk about?"

"There are few possibilities what the elves's motives might be. It could be that they need hostages for resolving some strange political affair. They might have arrested them for a committing a crime. There is also the chance that the troll was involved in this somehow. We hardly know anything about him." Darren rubbed his chin. "Blood Elves rarely state their true intentions. However, since they avoided Light's Hope Chapel and turned north there is only one logical place left to go: Silvermoon."

"The Blood Elf Capital?"

He nodded. "Exactly."

"We could just fly ahead and wait for them. That way, we could investigate who they are... or even set a trap!" Twilight smiled as she began to understand what Darren was getting at.

"Agreed, we will fly north. The sooner we get you out of the Plaguelands the better."

"What's that supposed to mean?", she retorted quickly.

"Twilight, it did not escape me that you have gotten thinner. You stay awake for long periods at night, you eat less. The hardships of the journey are beginning to take a serious toll on you."

"I can't argue with that", sighed Twilight. "I haven't been in very good shape recently."

"Do not worry. We will find them."

She nodded slowly, her shoulders sagging forward. "I hope so, too."

Darren nudged her, raising his eyebrows. "You will like the Eversong Forest. Unlike the Plaguelands, the air there is warm thanks to the currents of the Great Sea. As a consequence the trees bear fruit even in Winter and the water will not freeze at night. However, we have to cross the mountains first, follow the North Pass and leave the Ghostlands behind."

"I haven't heard of the Ghostlands before. Is that where the Scourge passed through when they marched towards Silvermoon?"

Darren nodded, poking at the tiny fire with a stick. "Precisely. Led by Arthas Menethil, the prince who had killed his own father, they began their march in Lordaeron, which you know as Undercity. They went north to the Sunwell Plateau. The ground they touched withered and died, turning black. A dead band dividing the land of the Blood Elves into a western and an eastern half. The damage appears to be irreversible. The Blood Elves are struggling to keep it contained to this very day."

"The Dead Scar", muttered Twilight. "But the Elves rebuilt Silvermoon, didn't they?"

"Mainly the eastern half. There is a small town in the western half, Falcon-something." He hummed, then snapped his fingers, recalling the name. "Falconwing Square. It is not on the direct route to Silvermoon. Maybe we can rest there. We should not take shelter in the city itself."

"Well, I could understand if the Elves remembered a purple pony. I know I wouldn't overlook an Elf if I saw one in Canterlot..." Twilight grinned involuntarily as she imagined the Canterlot nobles panicking at the sight of a group of Horde members.

"As a human, I would also draw attention to myself. They would let me in, though, if I can claimed to be a Forsaken. But it would be much better if we caught up with the abductors before they reach the city."

"Shouldn't we stay closer to the road, then?"

"Possibly, but that also increases our risk of getting caught."

"Flying on a griffin?"

Darren eyed her, amused. "The Elves have flying mounts as well."

"Oh. Right." She grinned sheepishly. "How about we avoid the road while we fly, then land somewhere close to it and hide so that travellers can't find us by accident? Then we wait for them to show up and free our friends."

"That makes sense. Then let us think very hard about how two people can free three others from over a dozen enemies."

Twilight smiled. "We still have time to figure that part out. If we use stealth and the element of surprise, combined with a smart use of magic, I think we have a chance."

"From your lips to the Light's ears", grunted Darren, frowning skeptically.

•°

As Darren talked more to Twilight over the following days, telling her of his previous journeys in the Plaguelands but never talking about the time when he had been alive, she joined in by entertaining him with her own stories. Stories of her friends and family, stories of the princesses and of Equestria's ancient lore. It turned out that Darren found Starswirl the Bearded "mildly amusing". Stories of King Sombra did not scare him one bit, he just called the shadow pony "a shallow and shortsighted fool". The more he heard of Twilight's adventures, the more his respect for her courage and kindness grew - and with that his eagerness to develop a sound rescue plan, even though he had trouble keeping his doubts at bay.

•°

They passed over a mountain ridge as they flew north, leaving the snow-covered Plaguelands behind. The mountains fell back, getting replaced by hills with tall, round trees scattered about. It was night when Twilight got a close look at them for the first time. They were spindly, twisted things, mostly leafless and shining in the glow of light green mushrooms that covered the ground. The fungi were mostly so small that she did not perceive them as single objects but rather as shimmering green bands below the once beautiful trees.

The air was different, too. Here, the land was less damaged but it still showed signs of abandonment. The few buildings that they saw were small towers, reminding Twilight of the spires of Dalaran or Canterlot, white and round and with red domes but often with cracked walls and vines covering the stairs that led up to the entrance. As Darren came into view of the towers, he swiftly made his griffin turn left. They avoided flying above the broad paved road and drew a wide arc around the settlements, flying west towards the sea, then following the coastline to the north.

Twilight was relieved that it was getting warmer with every mile they got further away from the Plaguelands. They took less breaks; she often slept in the saddle, covered by both Darren's and her own cloak. He made sure she did not fall off the mount and watched over her when they camped in secluded spots.

When they landed at a river which marked the borders, the Ghostlands behind them and a beautiful golden forest ahead, Twilight still breathed a sigh of relief. Darren helped her off the mount and led them away from the clearing. They took shelter under a few overhanging bright rocks and unpacked what Twilight needed for the night.

Twilight spread her blankets on the ground and flopped down on the soft cloth. She rested her head on her forelegs and watched Darren start a small fire. When he was finished, he removed Clara from his bag and set the sunflower on the ground before Twilight. She took the sight of the pretty flower in and sighed.

"I miss my friends", she said - like she did every evening. She knew that it was old news but she just could not help it.

Darren slid a wooden plate with food over to her.

"Where did you get this?", Twilight asked, her eyes wide with surprise as she saw the piece of apple pie.

"The Chapel. I meant to save it for a special occasion. We have now left the lands tainted by the Scourge. Well," he admitted, "- that is if you do not count the Scar. And we should still be careful to avoid patrols or wildlife."

"Wildlife? No, wait, don't tell me. I don't want to know right now."

Darren raised an eyebrow. "That is unlike you, to refuse knowledge", he said slowly.

Twilight sighed, "I know. I'm sorry I am behaving like this but I feel so terribly tired. It doesn't seem to matter how much sleep I get, I always feel so... sad. And empty. Like I want to lie down and never get up again. Everything I do is an effort."

"Are you serious?" He raised an eyebrow without the slightest hint of irony.

"I wish I wasn't", she muttered. "Look, Darren, I won't give up but... I don't know, I have never felt this way before."

"I see. But I can also see that you have not touched your pie yet."

"I'm not hungry."

"Princess Twilight Sparkle!" The commanding tone of Darren's deep voice made Twilight's heart jump. She raised her head and stared at him accusingly.

Darren pointed at the pie, his frown softening. "You need. To eat. Even if you are tired, even if it lacks any taste."

"But how can I eat when Jonathan and the others might not even -"

"You do not know that. All we know is that you are unwell and need to eat. What is this all of a sudden? At least you used to take care of your own body before."

A tear ran down Twilight's cheek. "I'm sorry."

"You may cry while you eat. Just do not swallow while breathing in."

A little laugh escaped her, like a bird fluttering from a tree. "Excuse me?"

"Come now, Twilight. Remember why we are here."

She sat up, wiping her cheeks with a hoof.

"To save our friends, I get that... I just... all right, I'll try."

"Good." Darren drew a dangerous-looking knife from somewhere beneath his cloak and used it to cut the pie into bite-sized pieces.

Twilight looked at the display of accurately arranged food and swallowed. She remembered the last time someone had cut food for her. It had been Jonathan on his Welcome-to-Ponyville Party. And before that, Pinkie Pie when she had given her cake as a birthday present.

The pie did look really good. Did a devoted priestess of the Chapel bake it? Well, maybe not. It could have been an orcish berserker for all she knew. She noticed that Darren had cut the pie in a fashion her father, Night Light, used to cut bread when Twilight had refused to eat her meal as a filly. A group of tasty squares, gathered on the wooden plate like a flock of sheep waiting to be counted.

She bent down and picked a small square up with her mouth, chewed it slowly and tried to keep it in her mouth as long as possible before swallowing.

It tasted wonderful, sweet, juicy and soft. More tears ran down her face.

"Thank you", she said, giving Darren a smile, and took another bite.

When she was done eating, Twilight wiped her mouth and noticed with surprise that she had devoured the entire pie. She lied down and streched her legs, trying to get her thoughts to slow down.

At first it was quiet in the forest but then something tickled her ears. It was not birdsong or anything close to it. Even though there was no snow it was still Winter after all. Twilight closed her eyes and listened closely.

It was a song that she heard, but unlike any song she had ever known. It was crystal clear, as light as a summer breeze and as bright as silver. As she let the tune fill her mind, her breathing slowed down. A shiver ran down her spine as her tense muscles relaxed. The song had no words, no voice, but it told her of magic and something else, something she held very dear but could not quite remember what exactly it was. Rising and falling, it lulled Twilight into sleep and soon she was snoring under the golden trees, under the watchful eye of her bodyguard.

•°

She woke up to the smell of vegetables being boiled. Darren sat at the now larger fire, stirring the contents of a small pot. Twilight sat up with a sigh and eyed the pot curiously. Something green and leafy floated in the bubbling water.

"It is a soup. I found some edible plants and herbs in the vicinity."

"Oh! Thank you", smiled Twilight. "I can't wait to try it." She rolled her blanket up and attatched it to the small bag Darren had given her.

I keep getting new bags from people, she thought. I really shouldn't make a habit of losing my things. Hay, there was a book in the blue saddlebags, not to mention all my notes!

Darren kept stirring the soup and eyed the forest. "This is a safe place but we should find a location suited for our trap."

Twilight nodded. "I'm sorry about yesterday."

"Your behavior is... understandable. You have been without your friends for almost two weeks now. And, of course, there's also your friends in Equestria. I -"

"Darren?", Twilight interrupted him.

"Yes?" He raised his eyebrows.

"Can I hug you?"

His eyebrows climbed even higher. He looked at her for a moment, the icy glow of his eyes not unnverning her anymore. Then he relaxed. "I doubt you will find it comfortable", he warned her. "I am wearing a suit of armor and do not emit any-"

"Please?"

"Very well, if you insist."

Twilight got up, closing the distance between them. She reared and put her forelegs around his neck. Darren exhaled and awkwardly hugged her back. His armor clinked when her chestpiece touched his cuirass. A strand of her mane brushed against his face and he forced himself to leave it alone. All the layers of clothing, armor and cloak made the hug hardly a hug but Twilight still relaxed in Darren's arms. At least she would not get squeezed to hard with all the cushioning between them.

"Thank you for being my friend", she whispered, her face resting on his shoulder.

Darren slowly retreated from the hug and Twilight sat down again, a watery smile on her muzzle.

"You are very welcome", he replied softly.

•°

The cold finally faded away bit by bit. Setting one foot before the other, Jonathan racked his brain to think of an escape plan. He had not come up with anything good so far. They were so terribly outnumbered that they would need a miracle to get rid of their shackles, free Arcus, retrieve their stuff and run for the hills.

And after getting healed from the curse, Jonathan might have gotten the nice confirmation that miracles existed but he was not so stupid to assume that one would happen twice in two months.

At least the food was bearable and they still took regular breaks - a short one at midday and a longer one at night. The elves probably wanted to keep their own fighters in good shape. What an irony: He did not have to carry any heavy plate armor around like the guards did. Though for some reason he was sure that they could catch him if he tried to run away.

Vol'Shalai simply looked bored most of the time, still using any chance that presented itself to mock their captors. His last joke had involved his lunch, which had been a banana, and his long nose. Jonathan could not decide between disgust and a laughing fit when it came to the troll's jokes. Still, he was sort of thankful for them.

The leader said something and they stopped. Jonathan perked up. That was unusual, to halt before nightfall. Were enemies approaching? Allies? He looked around, scanning the close hills and dirty brown pine trees that vegetated on them. A raven flew up, cawing ominously - eerie, but harmless. Movement in the bushes. A maggot of the smaller kind, only footlong, slithered in and out of sight.

A male guard approached Jonathan and told him in Orcish to follow him. He was being led to the cart. Another guard, this one a woman, stood next to Arcus, who was fidgeting under her hands.

"What's the fuss about?" Jonathan demanded to know, barely looking at the woman. He did not like how Arcus muttered and winced, not one bit. He felt his stomach cramping up and forced himself to breathe normally and keep his lunch where it belonged.

The woman turned away from the pony. "Your horse is sick. It appears to have a fever, most likely from the cold." Her voice was neutral, neither friendly nor hostile.

"Pony," corrected Jonathan automatically, then, "Wait, a fever? Let me check." He did not wait for an answer, pushing the elf's hand aside and feeling for Arc's forehead.

"Fuck," he cursed. "Well, who didn't let him walk like everyone else?" he hissed at the woman.

"You may treat it as you see fit", she said, still irritatingly indifferent.

"Well, you better let me", grunted Jonathan. "I'll need my backpack for this."

She said nothing, turning on her heel, and went over to the commander. They discussed something in quick Elvish. After a final word from her superior, the woman returned and agreed to giving Jonathan the supplies he needed. A hint of warmth was in her voice as she told him, "I am a healer as well. This creature's pain is not pleasing me any more than you, human. I shall assist you."

"Assist, yeah, right, and totally not watch my every move", growled Jonathan. "...I'll take what I can get, though. Thanks." He probably should show a bit of gratitude. The woman removed the ties around his hands.

Instantly ignoring the healer, Jonathan sat down on the wagon, next to Arcus. After another command the cart moved again and everybody had to resume walking, except for Jonathan, Arcus and the healer, who sat down on the other side of the unconscious pony.

The guard who rode next to them on his hawkstrider gave him a short look, one of the You know I'm watching you so don't you try anything stupid kind. Jonathan could feel it even though the man's eyes were hidden. He shuddered, reminded of Darren in a bad mood.

Jonathan touched Arcus's cheek. It was as hot as his forehead, and slightly damp from the pony's sweat. "Arcus? Can you hear me?"

Arcus stirred. He looked at Jonathan with misty, unfocused eyes, saying something that Jonathan could not understand.

"Crap", Jonathan muttered, frowning. Apparently Twilight's translation spell had worn off. He better did not let the healer notice that. He smiled at Arcus and said, "I'm gonna brew a potion for you to help lower the temperature and get the sickness out. Hang in there, okay?"

His encouraging tone seemed to get through. The pony grimaced and nodded, then closed his tired eyes to sink into sleep.

"You heard what I said", Jonathan adressed the healer. "I need a blanket. And the herbs are all in the blue saddlebags."

•°

He is running, his legs heavy as lead, but he must not slow down. A white cloud, as high as a mountain, chases after him and threatens to crush him like a gigantic wave. Arcus looks behind himself - a big mistake. The cloud grows even more, its icy vapors circling around his ankles. They catch him: he stumbles and falls.

The cloud eats him up, compressing his body with cold claws. Frost gathers on his muzzle, his hooves, creeps into his lungs. He coughs, sputters, and tries to wriggle himself free but it is no use. The cold cloud presses him down to the barren ground, even into it. He can feel the earth give way - no, he is merging with it. Arcus sinks down into the ground. He throws his numb legs around and manages to fight himself free. Arcus claws his way back to the surface, grinding his teeth together. The cold wind never stops for a second.

He finds himself on the same dusty road again, panting and sweating. He can hear voices in the wind and a sound so high-pitched that it makes his teeth vibrate. The voices are mocking him. Arcus feels ashamed for running away, even though he knows that the cloud would have killed him. He turns his head this way and that, trying to figure out where the cloud is now. He faintly remembers that he should not have been able to breathe underground.

The cloud is no more. There is now a forest. Trees adorned with spiky brown needles surround him, their shadows growing, twisting, springing to life. Arcus groans desperately and prepares to run again.

Still not out of breath, Arcus finds that the road is leading him uphill. He follows the trail to the top, the shadows still right on his tail. He looks around and the trees fall away like the backdrop of a theater. Logs clatter to the ground, disconnected and brittle.

As the trees crumble, Arcus fights the shadows that swiftly assume the shapes of bipeds. Long, spindly legs and a five-fingered claw that reaches for his mane - an undead is grasping his neck. Arcus shrieks with fear and disgust and tries to shake the repelling creature off, only to have another one grip his hindleg. He had thought the wind had been bad - but this is far more terrifying. These foreign monsters, worse than what his imagination could ever have come up with, are seizing him, rendering him immobile. Arcus whinces as he inhales their stench and breath that smells of rotten eggs, blood and excrement.

The zombies keep attacking him until Arcus begins to lose hope. But suddenly he sees a dark blue shape floating towards him through the grey sky. The newcomer flaps her beautiful wings and lands next to him, crushing the zombies with her hooves and blasting them to dust with her alicorn magic.

She turns her head, her starry mane flowing in the wind that has calmed down to a gentle, warm breeze, and smiles at Arcus.

The expression is so friendly and soft that something breaks inside of him. He hugs Princess Luna without hesitation, crying into her mane like a foal.

•°

It took Arcus way too long to get better. After four days of fever dreams and shivering in the cold he finally opened his eyes again. He found Jonathan right by his side, sitting on the cart.

"Jon?" His voice was so hoarse that he hardly recognized it.

"I'm here. Thank the Light you are awake", said Jonathan. Arcus frowned. He did not understand the language but judging from the way it sounded it was probably the tongue of the Forsaken. There were not too many consonants.

With a tight-lipped smile, Jonathan felt for Arcus's face and checked the temperature. The smile became more genuine.

"I don't know what you did but I'm not feeling like I'm burning and freezing anymore. So thanks." Arcus coughed a little and cleared his throat. "Ugh." The world was spinning for a moment. He held his head in his hooves, groaning. When the spinning stopped, he tried to stand up.

"Whoa, bad idea." Jonathan put a hand on his back, urging him to take it slow. His coat was damp from all the sweating but several layers of cloth kept the cold away from him. Arcus recognized one as Jonathan's cloak. The human shivered but tried to pretend it did not bother him. Had he been sleeping on the cart, huddled under blankets next to Arcus, to keep himself from freezing?

"Okay, okay", muttered the pony. He turned his head, looking for his saddlebags. "So thirsty..."

A small bottle appeared in front of his muzzle. He smiled at Jonathan who had readied the drink. Arcus drank very slowly. His throat still hurt and felt tight. Better not to talk too much yet. Not that it would help anyway. He sighed.

An elf approached and talked to Jonathan. The human rolled his eyes and got up, jumping from the still moving cart.

Jon patted Arcus's shoulder and gave him an encouraging nod. He walked alongside the cart now, watched closely by the Sword guy. Arcus could look at Jonathan during the entire day. The human did not leave his side for a second.