Lowering his head, Garlic studied the body of the dead spider. A few legs had been hacked off, it was missing its fangs, and its bulbous backside had been squished. He let out a whicker and shook his head. The goblins it seemed, were out in force. There were lots of dead spiders in the tunnels, but there was the risk of running into a large goblin hunting party. Or worse, there was the chance of running into a large group of spiders, roused to defend themselves from the goblin invaders.
Raising his head, Garlic looked around. The walls were slick here and the sounds of water dripping could be heard. The air was dank and foul. The torch, was little was left of it, sputtered and flickered, which made Garlic worry that there might not be enough air for the fire to burn, which would mean not enough air for them to breathe effectively.
There was nothing that could be done but continue.
“We’ve passed by this formation of rock at least twice now,” Fogwalker announced, her words bringing Garlic to a halt. She looked around at the various crystal formations and the stone all around them glittered and flickered in Sunrise’s horn light.
“I’m aware of this problem. I guess we’ll go back to the main passage and try to find another offshoot,” Garlic admitted, stomping his hoof in irritation.
“Actually, in a gallery just a ways back, where the passage got wide, I saw a tunnel opening up above us. That might be a way up to the next levels up above,” Sunrise said in an exhausted voice. She felt terrible about her growing fatigue, she had slept more than both of her companions, but she felt as though she was going to drop over at any moment and she had trouble keeping her eyes open.
“Good eye,” Fogwalker said, looking at Sunrise. “I say we go back and have a look.”
“I agree,” Garlic replied, nodding his head.
The passage was dark and difficult to see up into. There were indentations carved into the stone to allow for handholds and footholds, which meant the goblins were able to climb up to the opening and have access to the tunnel as well. The sound of running water or rushing wind could be heard coming out of the tunnel.
With a grunt, Fogwalker lifted Garlic, straining and heaving to lift the massive earth pony and his gear, her wings flapping wildly from her efforts. She stuffed him into the opening and then hovered behind him, waiting. There was very little light and stuffing Garlic into a dark tunnel was dangerous.
“All clear,” Garlic announced. “Go get Sunny.”
“I have a nickname?” Sunrise asked, sounding hopeful. “Is this a sign of me being accepted? Is this a sign of camaraderie?”
“Foggy, Stinky, and Sunny… intrepid adventurers, heroic spelunkers, and quite possibly goblin chow,” Fogwalker quipped as she hefted Sunrise from the floor and lifted the chubby unicorn.
“It is really nice of you to call me ‘Sunny’ you know… most ponies call me ‘Chubby’ or ‘Fatso’ or something really mean,” Sunrise gushed, looking at Garlic in the dim light of her horn. “You’re so nice.”
“I’m not nice,” Garlic protested, shaking his head. “The passage here is really steep. Really really steep. Foggy, toss Sunny on my back.”
“Okay Stinky,” Fogwalker acknowledged, lifting Sunrise and throwing her over Garlic’s broad back. She gave the unicorn a shove to keep her from sliding off and then patted her kindly.
The unicorn grunted, threw her legs around Garlic’s neck, and then let out a pained whimper. “The armor plates are kinda painful.”
“Sorry… but to be honest, I don’t think you’ll be able to walk up this grade. If you slipped and fell, you’d slide back, maybe hit an outcropping rock and get hurt or something. Foggy, you be careful, you’re not stable hoofed either,” Garlic said as he took the first few cautious steps up the passage. It was full of gravel and debris and he had to gingerly test each place he put a hoof down.
Fogwalker slipped and fell right away, slamming into the stone wall beside her with a grunt, her armor clanking loudly. As she scrambled to regain her footing, she stumbled and fell down face first, her helmeted head slamming into the floor.
Garlic stopped, secured his hooves, and carefully shifted his weight to turn and look back at Fogwalker. “We’ve barely even started and already the most graceful pegasus I know is falling down like she was walking on sheet ice.”
“Shut up you big smelly earth pony,” Fogwalker growled as she adjusted her helmet.
“The path is too steep for you,” Garlic stated in a defeated sounding voice.
“I can deal with steep, the path is too slick and treacherous. Everything is wet, there is gravel everywhere, some kind of lichen is all over the stone, and the passage isn’t big enough for me to fly in… I’m a pegasus, what do I know about traveling over treacherous earth?” Fogwalker grumbled. The pegasus gritted her teeth in frustration and kicked a loose stone in anger.
“Get on my back,” Garlic commanded.
“Are you crazy? You have the heaviest saddlebags, the heaviest armor, one somewhat chunky unicorn, no offense Sunny, her saddlebags, and now you want me to climb up there as well? I have gear and about fifty pounds of platemail… have you lost your root vegetable growing mind?” Fogwalker demanded, glaring at Garlic through the slit in her helmet.
“Foggy, shut up and climb on,” Garlic said in a voice of irritation as he braced his legs.
“You might be a giant, but you have limits… Garlic, this is dangerous… if you snap a leg I don’t know that we can get you back to home to safety,” Fogwalker protested in a voice of grave concern.
“The same can be said for you,” Garlic argued impatiently. “Just make sure to put me down. Remember, base of the neck, snap it cleanly, I probably won’t feel anything.”
Hating herself, Fogwalker climbed up onto Garlic’s back behind Sunrise and tried to get comfortable. The armor plates were indeed pinchy… pinchy in delicate places. Pinchy and cold and pressed right into places where pinchy and cold metal should never be pressed. She squirmed, trying to situate herself, and she winced when she heard Garlic grunt.
“I’m sorry Garlic, but the metal plates are trying to claim my virginity before you do,” Fogwalker explained in a pained voice.
“I know the feeling,” Sunrise whimpered.
Saying nothing but snorting in disgust instead, Garlic lifted one front hoof, placed it forward, tested the ground, and then planted it firmly on the floor. He did it again with his other front hoof, then a hind hoof, then the other hind hoof, until finally he began the slow crawl up the dangerous passage.
“Stinky… when were done here… I’m going to be wounded… think you could kiss it and make it better?” Fogwalker inquired in sultry tones.
“Why would anypony kiss another pony… there of all places,” Sunrise questioned, feeling nauseated as she clung to Garlic’s broad neck.
“I’m told it feels good,” Fogwalker responded, giving Sunrise a playful squeeze.
“And who told you that?” Sunrise asked, all to aware that Fogwalker just gave her a flirtatious squeeze.
“Chrysalis, the Virtue of Love,” Fogwalker remarked. “She pulled me aside one day, not too long after Garlic’s Standing, and she gave me a detailed lecture on the merits of oral satisfaction and how it builds love and trust in a relationship.”
“I never did like Chrysalis,” Sunrise grumbled, feeling horrified and sickened by the topic of conversation.
Garlic would never admit it, but he was certainly feeling the weight of his load. The passage was steeper than a flight of stairs, he was encumbered by a great deal of weight, and Fogwalker had picked now of all times to spread Chrysalis’ message of perverted love.
Life just wasn’t fair… not at all, and Garlic felt himself begin to resent life just a little bit as he laboured to take each and every step.
“The lecture really wasn’t all that bad, I found a lot of useful information to be had… but she picked a bad time to lecture me,” Fogwalker said, continuing the idle conversation.
“I would think any time would be inappropriate for… that,” Sunrise Surprise said in a strained voice.
“Oh, she picked the worst possible time… my mother was standing right there. And being the good soldiers that we are, we could not refuse the instruction or commands of a Virtue. My poor mother… she turned a shade of purple I’ve never seen before,” Fogwalker remarked loquaciously.
“Oooh my filly flower hurts,” Sunrise whined, trying to squirm away from a rivet and a sharp metal edge.
“Filly flower?” Fogwalker muttered. “Never heard of that one before.”
“That’s what my mother calls it,” Sunrise squeaked as she squeezed her hind legs together against Garlic’s sides and tried to lift her abused femininity away from the rapacious metal of Garlic’s armor. “She said one day a bee will come along and pollinate it for me.”
Garlic nearly lost his footing when he heard the words coming out of Sunrise’s mouth. He grunted, took a deep breath, snorted, and then continued to make his way up the steep incline, smiling broadly under his helmet, trying not to laugh so he could pay attention to the task at hoof.
“Yes… a very busy little bee… he’ll jab his stinger into your filly flower-”
“Look, I know how everything really works,” Sunrise interrupted, a hot flush flooding over her cheeks. “I found a book.”
“Oh… yes, well, a book should tell you everything you need to know,” Fogwalker stated, her tone not at all serious.
“It did. It told me everything. And it all sounds gross, disgusting, and messy. I don’t know how I feel about it,” Sunrise murmured as she squirmed and tried not to think about Fogwalker pressed up against her back and hugging her. It was almost a little too close to what the book described, with the stallion climbing upon the female’s back and giving her a ‘special hug’ to kick off the biological messiness that was about to happen.
Garlic heaved his body along, pushing himself well past his usual levels of endurance. He was tired and he hadn’t eaten enough. He began to wonder just how far he could push himself, how much more he had left, and a part of his mind welcomed the chance to discover just what he was capable of.
He was an earth pony and he was no stranger to the stone. He could feel it all around him and he drew strength from the earth beneath his hooves. Each step returned his hoof to the ground and securely rooted him into place. He did not slip, trip, or stumble, but remained sure-hoofed as he continued up the steep passage. He ignored the pain in his spine and his legs, the creaking in his shoulders and hips, the throbbing ache in his fetlocks.
“You’re doing good… you can do it Stinky,” Fogwalker said in a soft voice full of concern. “When we make camp next, I’ll take both shifts so you can rest.”
“Thanks,” Garlic grunted, his nostrils flaring. His breath was hot inside of his helmet and made the inside humid. He had no idea how long this passage might be and he hoped that they did not encounter any goblins during their climb.
The pain was gone. Garlic had gone numb quite some time ago. He moved mechanically, slowly, his senses dull. He had kept his footing during the long climb, always steady, always stable, but his progress had slowed. His tongue hung out inside of his helmet, he panted, and he was in desperate need of water, but they could not stop now for a drink.
The air stank of rotten eggs and the sound of water had grown louder.
“I think I see something up ahead… light,” Fogwalker whispered.
Garlic felt a dull sense of panic. Light was bad. Light meant trouble. And he was too tired to fight right now. Not that he could fight in this passage. There was no turning back and forward was potential danger. He heaved a weary sigh and continued, knowing there was no other way.
“Greenish light,” Fogwalker announced as they drew closer to the light source. “It looks like the passage widens out up ahead. The green light is everywhere.”
Suddenly, the passage wasn’t so steep, and Garlic nearly stumbled from the change of incline. He steadied himself and pushed ahead, taking a few more steps, he paused, and then he looked around.
They were in a small grotto lit by glowing cave fungus. There were two passages here, apart from the one they had just traveled to get here, one heading up, the other heading down, and on the far wall there was a trickling stream of water. The cavern was redolent with the reek of sulfur.
Fogwalker slipped from Garlic’s back and then pulled Sunrise down. She patted Garlic, trying to steady him, and then she peered around the chamber. “We’ll rest here. It’s dangerous, but poor Stinky can’t take another step.”
The last of his strength now burned up, Garlic collapsed in a heap, his legs buckling beneath him and his head thudding to the ground. Fogwalker let out a worried whimper as she reached down and pulled off Garlic’s helmet, knowing some air would do him good, and she wished there was a way to remove his armor and gear, but that was too complicated and difficult to manage out in the field. She pulled a gourd from his saddlebags with her teeth, pulled out the stopper with a jerk of her wing, and then jammed the opening into Garlic’s mouth.
The stallion coughed and sputtered, sending water everywhere, recovered slightly, and then began to drink. All too soon, the entire gourd was emptied.
“This is bad, his fetlocks are all swollen,” Sunrise whispered, eyeing Garlic’s front legs. “He never complained,” she murmured, shaking her head with disbelief.
“He’ll be fine. Use your magic and feed him… I don’t think he can do it on his own,” Fogwalker instructed, her voice commanding and full of concern. The pegasus stretched her legs as she pulled a candle from her saddlebags.
With a flick of her magic, Sunrise lit the candle after it was set on top of a stone. She pulled out a rock hard biscuit and a small burlap sack of corn. She broke off pieces of the biscuit and using her telekinesis, she fed Garlic little bites, trying to encourage the exhausted stallion to eat. She watched as Fogwalker prepared herself for a long shift standing guard.
“This is turning out to be much harder than I thought it would be,” Sunrise admitted.
“How did you think this was going to be?” Fogwalker inquired, looking at the exhausted unicorn. She could tell that Sunrise was struggling to even stay awake.
“I don’t know, I thought it would be a long walk… or something,” Sunrise said. The unicorn stifled a yawn as she gave Garlic another mouthful of cracked corn. She listened to the crunching sounds of Garlic chewing and tried to ignore her heavy eyelids.
“Instead, we’ve been slogging through these tunnels, been placed in mortal peril, met a giant rat, avoided an underground city full of goblins, and we’ve had our filly flowers shredded while we rode poor Garlic halfway into his grave,” Fogwalker summarised, shaking her head as she spoke.
Sunrise felt herself being overwhelmed with emotion. She sniffled and then she felt the first tear fall. Garlic wasn’t anything at all like the stories she had heard about earth ponies. She fed him another bite of cracked corn, waited for him to chew and swallow, and then offered him another gourd of water to drink.
“This is why we endure the Standing,” Fogwalker said in a low solemn voice. “We endure deprivation, standing in one spot with no food and no water for one whole day and one whole night. A lot of ponies never make it past the Standing. Garlic did, I did, a few of us do, and we are deemed worthy enough to serve. From that point on, life just gets worse and worse for us, the Standing is only an introduction to a lifetime of misery and sacrifice. It sucks being a soldier.”
“Why was Garlic chosen to be a Guardian and not a Ranger?” Sunrise asked, trying to keep herself awake as she continued to give Garlic food and drink.
“Garlic is poor. Poor in a way that you and I would never understand. He’s been educated, which makes him lucky, but he doesn’t have good social standing, refined social graces, and a strong education like I have. Guardians are grunts. Common soldiers. Rangers uphold the law. I was schooled in law and its application. I spent plenty of time being lectured by Flim and Flam themselves, and I’ve gotten many an earful of the importance of the law, the spirit of the law, the letter of the law, and the times where the law fails and it is more important to be fair than it is to be lawful. Garlic defends and protects… I deliver justice,” Fogwalker explained.
“I suppose I can understand that,” Sunrise replied and then yawned.
“Truth is, Garlic would probably make a great Ranger. But he committed the worst crime of all, so that’s never going to happen,” Fogwalker said bitterly.
“Crime?” Sunrise asked in confusion, looking up at the pegasus .
“He was born poor… never mind the fact that he was born without wings. That’s two serious black marks against him. He’s lucky he even made it into the Guardians. He gets nothing but grief from his fellow soldiers for the most part because he can’t fly away with them. He gets treated terribly, usually left in the barracks to clean, tidy up, and pull supply wagons like a common draft pony. And he never complains. He just takes his pay and keeps plodding along, just like he did when he carried us up that steep treacherous incline,” Fogwalker replied, explaining everything in a cold angry voice.
“That seems terribly unfair,” Sunrise whimpered, her cheeks and her muzzle damp with tears. She shook her head and patted Garlic. The stallion snorted and Sunrise realised that he was asleep.
“Unfair or not, that is how life is,” Fogwalker stated. She watched as Sunrise nodded off and fell over, collapsing beside Garlic. “Yep. Life is unfair… I’m stuck standing guard with no sleep.”