Zlata looked at the tray once again and sighed heavily. Despite the deadly winter and the lack of food, she felt lousy when she put the tray with only a bowl of what one can barely call a soup, a tiny piece of bread and a small patch of hay in front of the forest pony. The poor stallion had probably suffered hunger enough and feeding him with this felt like a kick in the stomach. But the cynical and greedy side of her whispered that the dark-hued stranger should be thankful; after all, they had saved his life, kept him warm and fed for at least two weeks.
Zlata saw something in her peripheral vision and stopped immediately, and right on time, too. Orthoclase dashed right in front of her, racing past her and running outside. The young lad had been quite active lately and Zlata couldn’t figure out why. Perhaps because of him reaching the age of conscription soon or the stranger living in their house. It could be both, actually.
The bitter aroma of tobacco filled the air; she traced it to its source in her husband’s office, where she lingered before the closed door. Despite not being a smoker, she had always, for some reason, found the sour aftertaste in her mouth a tiny bit appealing whenever she breathed in the noxious smoke.
“Morning, dear. How’s our forest pony feeling?” Rubin addressed her the moment Zlata opened the door and took a quick peek into the smoke filled room.
“Haven’t checked on him yet.” She walked up to her husband who was sitting in a rather shabby, homemade armchair, facing away from the door, and put the tray on his worktable in front of him. “Though, I doubt he’ll survive for too long with rations like these.”
Rubin eyed the tray for a second, puffing white smoke out of his mouth every once in a while. Then, he put the tobacco pipe aside and got up from the armchair. “Give him my share of bread next time. I can manage a week or two.”
He flexed his muscles and yawned, every fiber of his body yearning for some action. After a good night’s sleep, Rubin felt he could swipe away armies with a single motion, but he knew that was nothing but a deceiving trick of his aging body. He looked at the crystal rifle hanging on the wall and sighed heavily.
“He needs it more than I.”
“I tend to put the needs of my family before the needs of the strangers, dear. Maybe I could go to Grainy, borrow some more bread…” Zlata trailed off as her husband turned around and looked at her angrily.
“Are you insane? We’re already indebted to her; there’s no need to dig the hole even deeper!” His expression easened up a bit, and he approached Zlata, putting his foreleg on her shoulder. “Dear, it’s okay! I can manage! Or do you not believe in me anymore?”
“I do, dear. I always did.”
“Good. So go ahead and give our forest pony some meal, he’s probably starving right now.” Rubin retrieved the tobacco pipe and shook its contents into a tiny glass ashtray. “I’ll go chop us some wood!”
“Sure. But if you feel pain again, call for me!” Zlata said rather strictly, which prompted a content giggle from Rubin.
“Come on, Zlata, that happened only two or three times. I’m not that old yet!” he exclaimed, trotting towards the exit. “Call me if you need anything.”
With Rubin now gone, Zlata looked at the bookshelf, humming to herself. It had been so long since she’d lain on the sofa with a good book in her hooves. Somepony once said that finishing a good book could feel like losing a dear friend; Zlata had tragically ‘lost’ all the friends she could have had in her husband’s limited library, although she never tackled the books on military tactics, since she figured she’d not understand them anyway.
Any other book, however, she had probably read through time and time again. She enjoyed reading dictionaries and studies on language and grammar. Her terrific skills of Common were entirely self taught.
Absently, she ran her hoof over the back of a book titled The Crystallian Language — For beginners. Her hoof halted mid motion as it sparked an idea in her head. The memories of the living hell that had been teaching her son were still fresh in her mind, and yet, she wouldn’t trade it for anything. She picked the book up and looked at its weathered surface.
If she’d fail, then so be it. There wasn’t any reason not to try it. With somewhat eager attitude, Zlata put the book on the tray near the bowl and trotted upstairs.
It was time to be a teacher once again.
***
There was something charming in the bleak surface of the pendant, something really attractive. Sombra couldn’t get his eyes off of it; he just kept staring, twirling it in his hooves. He saw his reflection in the yellow surface and emptied his lungs in a long, drawn-out sigh.
There had never been a single night where he hadn’t dreamt. They were all colorful, very bright and sunny. Krystal would sit in the middle of the flower field, holding a small bundle in her hooves, smiling gently and humming a sweet melody. Upon approach, she would smile at Sombra and silently turn the bundle, revealing the foal sleeping inside.
Every time Sombra woke with a bitter taste in his mouth and an ache in his chest. It didn’t matter where he slept, a bank of snow or a comfortable bed, he would always have these bright dreams. They were never the same — different locations, different colors, but always bright, always happy.
Sombra let the pendant fall on the bed and looked at the ceiling. He hated it when he drowned in his dreams, instead of focusing on reality. Even now, he had spent two weeks doing nothing but eating, sleeping and dreaming. Of course, he felt weak for the first several days, but now, as he became healthier, he felt guilt every time the mare of this family who, as he’d found out, was named Zlata, or her son Orthoclase brought him food.
Their kindness... It would be much more sensible to just leave him to die - he was nothing but a hassle, anyway, a leech draining the life from its host. And yet, he still did nothing to change that. His life was over, he’d lost everything — what was the point?
The door creaked upon opening and Zlata peeked inside, her small head barely covered by her mane.
“Oh, you’re awake,” she said calmly and walked inside, carrying the tray with food and, surprisingly, a book. “I’ve brought you your food.”
Sombra watched Zlata put the tray on the nearby cupboard, grab the book and sit down on the bedside. He was unsure of her intentions, but once he saw the title of the book, it became evident. He had owned it himself once. It almost made him chuckle.
“Listen, deary, I know it’s probably too early… or too late to teach you to write or read… but I still think that, if you are going to live among normal ponies, you need to be able to understand them.” She reinforced her point with a gentle smile. “Believe me, it isn’t hard at all. In fact, it can be quite fun and relaxing!”
First, they took him in. Then, they fed him. Now, they were teaching him. What was wrong with these ponies? Why did they care so much? It seemed like a joke.
Despite that, he found himself suppressing a smile. One might say that he was mocking the family and this poor mare and yet… Sombra felt that this might be his chance.
For a moment, he stared right into the mare’s deep eyes as she spoke. He saw a whole array of feelings: affection, happiness, delight, but perhaps most importantly, enthusiasm. Zlata was geniunaly willing to teach him.
Was destiny giving him a second chance? A second chance to try again and not fail at life? Nopony here knew who he was, or where he came from. Nopony knew what he did and which crimes he’d committed. This was the moment when he could decide whether to surrender and live in memories, or try again.
Sombra took a deep breath, closed his eyes, and extended his hoof forward, putting it on the surface of the book. Zlata stared at him, but he didn’t wait until she’d recovered from the initial surprise.
“It all happened long ago. I had been deeply in love with a pretty princess. I had loved many times, but this was different.” Sombra recited the first lines from the first of the few short stories contained in the book. “Did I forget a few lines?”
The surprise didn’t work out as intended as Zlata collapsed on the bed, senseless.
“There, there you go. Are you feeling better?” Sombra helped Zlata hold the bowl and sip the hot soup from it.
“I… I think I am…” With each gulp, the colour returned to her face. She looked at Sombra, confused and lost. “You… you…”
“Are a coward? Yes… Yes, I am.” Sombra took a deep breath and, after making sure that Zlata could hold the bowl herself, made himself comfortable next to her.
“No… You can talk. How?” Zlata took a sip of the soup and flinched. “Oh, by the Emperor, it tastes horrible.”
“Actually, it’s nice, if you dip the bread into it once or twice…” Sombra chuckled. “But to answer your question: I could talk from the very beginning. I just… didn’t want to.”
“Oh… Did we look savage to you at first?”
Sombra flinched, unsure of what to answer. This family, especially the father, would demand answers from him. But he couldn’t bring himself to tell the whole truth. Tell them about Krystal, about his dad; they would just hoof him over to the guards, and then he would spend the rest of his years in the mines. Or they might just tell him to leave and his chance for a new life would be lost.
A small lie never hurt anypony. It was a lie for a good cause. He would make up for it, definitely.
“No… No, I’ve just… couldn’t figure out where I was. At first I thought you might be bandits who would sell me to slavers…” You had to be completely dense to think that this family might be involved in any kind of crime. Judging by what Sombra had seen so far, they were nothing short of a perfect family. At least, to him it seemed so.
“Oh… Well, that is understandable. To collapse in the middle of the forest and then wake up in an unknown location might certainly be disorientating. Say, what were you doing in the forest? You were found quite far away from any villages or outposts. Where did you come from?”
Zlata’s curiousity made a few cold drops of sweat run down Sombra’s neck. He should have planned his lies earlier, and not come up with them on the fly.
“I… Err… I escaped from bandits. I was travelling with a caravan, when we were attacked. Thankfully, I managed to escape.” The mare gave him a long thorough look.
“Where are your parents, then?” She hummed with a note of sadness in her voice. She was probably assuming the worst.
“Erm… I don’t know. I grew up in the streets of a little village, and then decided to find a better life in another part of the Empire.” Sombra swallowed nervously, but, judging by the sigh Zlata let out, she seemed to have bought it.
“That’s... really horrible — growing up without parents,” she said. “I hope my husband takes the news of your sudden ability to speak well. I promise, I’ll do everything in my power to convince him to let you stay.”
Sombra sighed with relief, as Zlata hastily left the room. Everything went well, even better than Sombra expected. Now, if the father of this family would accept him, he would finally be able to start over. To start a new, calm life away from all the madness and dreams.
Though, if only there was a way to erase memories. Even though the guilt stung him with its decaying claws, Sombra figured that he would take the chance to erase all the memories of his previous life. Even the sweetest moments.
***
“And that is why Sombra stayed quiet for so long.” Zlata finished her brief story and went quiet, as Rubin got up from his chair and looked out of the window.
Sombra gulped, trying to curl up as much as he possibly could, as the strange atmosphere of the cabinet with its tobacco-stained air envelloped him like water. Having spent so much time on the edge between reality and dreams, it felt incredibly weird to walk once more. His jorney down the stairs almost ended in an epic fall. Thankfully, Zlata was there to help him.
However, even her soothing presense was unable to ease all the worries that ovewhelmed him when he stepped inside this office, the office, which reminded him of Misty Pearl’s room — so official, so soulless, and with a crystal gun hanging on the wall. It made for an incredibly uneasy atmosphere, and when Zlata had invited him to sit down on a chair, he knew he would not sit still for even a moment.
Rubin, still rather fired up after his firewood chopping session, swiped a few stray drops of sweat off his brow and returned to his desk. He looked straight at Sombra, but his gaze was not filled with anger nor frustration, but with interest instead.
“So, Sombra… tell me, how did you manage to stay alive in our woods? These parts are pretty dangerous and yet you managed to make it out alive.”
“I was lucky, I guess… I don’t know for how many days I survived in the woods… I ate any leaf, any edible root I could find…” Sombra murmured in reply, trying to scramble together the hazy memories of his stay in the woods.
“Hmm, you’re lucky. You were at least able to find something to eat before the real winter kicked in.” Rubin rubbed his hooves together. “Don’t take me wrong, I’m not belittling your accomplishments or anything. It’s a miracle that you survived, let alone were able to walk into my office somewhat by yourself.”
He sighed once again and turned away and Zlata’s face a bit pale.
“What you have to understand, Sombra, is that dangerous times are coming. Winter is always a great challenge for us here at Granitza; its brutality is unmatched. Even the healthiest of stallions find themselves helpless to feed their families. I cannot let you stay, I’m afraid. There’s not enough food for all of us.” He spoke in a softer tone, trying to soothe the blow for his open-hearted wife.
“Sir, I’m willing to work for my food,” Sombra said sternly. He was not giving up his chance. If doing something of use was the only price to pay for a new life, he was more than willing to pay it.
“Hmm, despite your condition? You’re still weak, after all.”
“I’m anything but weak.” Sombra’s voice turned even more rough, even angry. “Give me a job and I’ll do it. I promise.”
Rubin smiled briefly; the worried look of his wife made him chuckle a little bit. “That’s the attitude I want to see. Fine, you may stay as long as you help our family stay alive.”
Zlata sighed heavily with relief. Sombra bowed his head in gratitude. It was probably the last thing he would do to any pony back at home, but Rubin deserved it undoubtetly.
“Thank you, sir. Thank you very much.”
“You’re welcome. You’ll be moving into a new room, too. Ortho really needs to have his personal space cut.” Rubin threw a sly look at Zlata, who ground her teeth.
“I… urgh… whatever,” she murmured and trotted to the exit. “I’ll go inform Orthoclase… I hope he takes it well.” With those words, she closed the door behind her and only then muttered a few curses at her husband.
“Welcome to the family, Sombra. It’s always nice to see a new set of hooves helping others.” Rubin raised his hoof and Sombra shook it. “Come on now, we’ll need to get you settled in the new room.”
***
Orthoclase gently leaned against the door and held his breath for a moment. Who would have thought that there would be a day when he’d be afraid of entering his own damn room? But ever since the mysterious forest pony entered his life, everything became just a little bit weird.
Well, he was apparently no longer a forest pony. Not only that, but now he was the newest ‘member’ of their family, as Zlata had put it. And, out of all rooms, this ‘member’ had to end up in his room.
“Dad’s idea, no doubt.” Orthoclase murmured, finally pushing the door open and taking a step into his humble abode.
Ortho always tried to keep his room tidy and that had always been easy, considering it was pretty small. A small bed in the farthest corner, a shelf right beside it and a small cupboard underneath the window, where a set of light leather armor was neatly folded. It had been a gift from Rubin for Ortho’s sixteenth birthday. One day, he was hoping to put it to good use.
Orthoclase caught Sombra setting a rough mattress on the floor, carefully preparing this improvised bed for further use. When he finally paid attention to Orthoclase, he turned around and looked at him silently.
“So… Father let you stay, it seems.” Orthoclase stated, closing the door behind him. “Quite surprising, considering he only knew you for about three minutes. Or whenever you started talking.”
Sombra stayed quiet, and Orthoclase felt himself a bit more confident. This silence meant that either Sombra was a real sissy, or he was too stupid to retort. Either way, it was good for Ortho; he did not want to be replaced by some weirdo from the woods.
“You know, Sombra, I think some arrangements have to be made first before you call this place ‘your home’. After all… this is my room and my house. So, if we’re going to co-exist peacefully, you should keep a few simple rules in mind.” Orthoclase rubbed his hooves together, thinking of a possibility that his life might become easier with this little stranger. “First, and the most important rule: if I tell you to leave the room, you definitely should do so.”
Sombra did not say anything, and just kept on making his sleeping place.
“Second rule: if I ask you to do something, you should do that. My requests are very simple, most of the time; you should have no trouble accomplishing them. Finally, the third rule: don’t touch my things. Any of them. Am I making myself clear?” Ortho put his hooves together and smiled suavely, but Sombra didn’t even turn around. He just kept making his bed. “Hey-o! I’m talking to you, you know.”
“Wake me up once you have something useful to say.” Sombra’s reply ended the conversation, as he lied down in his bed and covered himself with a blanket. “I’ve got a long day ahead and I would appreciate if you would give me just a few minutes of rest. Thank you kindly.”
Orthoclase ground his teeth. A pony possessing that kind of voice — a hoarse, commanding one — would never follow his command. In fact, it was obvious that, one day, Sombra would be commanding him. But Orthoclase was not going to give up that easily.
“Fine, fine. I’ll go check on father, then. Maybe he’s got some work for me to do.” Orthoclase forced himself to talk calmly, despite the humiliation he’d just experienced. Rubin might have let Sombra stay, but when dealing with pecking order, Orthoclase was definitely above this stranger. Who would pick some wanderer over their own son?
When Orthoclase closed the door behind him, Sombra angrily rubbed his temples, trying to calm down the raging storm of emotions. He was a guest here, he was dependant on these ponies and breaking their only son’s nose would not make his position much better.
After a brief silent conversation with himself, Sombra decided that he was going to ignore Orthoclase completely. Hopefully, his temper would not get better of him; he needed this family. This was his only chance for a new life. He was not going to lose it.
***
The morning of the next day greeted Sombra with unnatural darkness and knocks on the door. Upon opening his eyes, he could not believe how dark it was outside. It seemed as if he’d woken up in the middle of the night, yet his body told him otherwise.
He remembered how he tried taking a walk yesterday. Walking on his own proved a bit of a challenge at first, but Sombra quickly recovered and by the end of the day was able to walk freely, without the fear of collapsing.
Sombra shook his head trying to drive away the morning headache and got up from his bed. Orthoclase did not seem to notice the persistent knocks on the door and kept his face burrowed deep within the pillow. Sombra shook his head one more and opened the door.
“Erm…” Zlata was looking at him with rather surprised expression. “Oh, Sombra, it’s you. I just… confused you with somepony for a moment.”
“Good, err, evening, Mrs. Zlata” Sombra nodded, unsure of what was going on and why the mare would visit them at this late of hour.
“Actually, it’s morning.” Zlata stifled a chuckle. “Anyway, I needed to tell you that Rubin is expecting you both. It seems he wants to hunt… again. He’s waiting outside.”
Sombra quickly nodded. “We’ll be there in a moment’s notice.” Zlata nodded and trotted away while Sombra closed the door and turned to Orthoclase. Obviously, since Rubin wanted both of them to come, he would get indignant if only one of them arrived. This might be a good opportunity to teach the brat a lesson.
Too bad there was no way to prolong the sleep through magical means. It was all either weirdly named medicine or a good smack on the skull. Sombra hummed for a moment: maybe a good smack against the wall would keep the colt sleepy.
Sombra stiffled a chuckle. What was he thinking? How old was he, twelve? Or maybe five? Setting up another pony just because he was an idiot was child’s play. He had already made too many childish decisions.
“Hey, wake up,” Sombra said, approaching the sleeping pony. “We’ve got some work to do.” All he heard in reply was a snore louder than usual. With no signs of regret or pity, Sombra delivered a harsh slap right on Orthoclase’s cheek. The poor pony quickly sprung up, his eyes shot open, and looked around, looking for the attacker.
“Wha… what the Abyss?” he murmured, his eyes twitching a little before his eyes found Sombra. “Why did you…”
“Your dad is waiting for us outside. Let’s not keep him waiting.”
“Urgh, fine, fine… you asshole.” Orthoclase grumbled the insult as Sombra was too far away already to hear it.
It didn’t take much time for the two colts to prepare for the jorney outside. Zlata found a spare jacket, a furry hat and a tight warm scarf for Sombra, so they both were ready to take on the cold.
“Be careful, Ortho. Who knows what kind of antics your dad is up to today.” She advised her son, keeping her hoof on her chest. Every time he left for hunting, especially in winter, felt like a devastating blow to the mare. “Try not to hurt yourself.”
“Oh, mom, keep it together. I can handle whatever he throws at me.” Orthoclase grumbled in reply and gently pushed her away when she went to kiss him. “Mom! What did I tell you last time?”
Zlata threw an innocent glance at Sombra and facehoofed. “Oh, right, sorry. Not in front of strangers. Forgive me, sweetheart.”
Sombra couldn’t bring himself to look at the scene. Had he been in Ortho’s place, he would have hugged his mother… The fool didn’t value what he had until he’d loose it.
“Be a little more respectful to your mother,” Sombra grumbled angrily, tightening the jacket with magic and stepping outside into the cold dark. Orthoclase gazed upon him with hatred evident in his eyes, grumbled something and followed suit.
Zlata watched the two colts leave, feeling rather shocked about what Sombra said. It wasn’t common for stallions to say something like this. The hardened, strong defenders of the house could not show weakness by displaying love and affection to their wives, at least in public. That was the tradition in almost in every part of the Empire that hadn’t yet been touched by the Emperor’s reforms. This made her question Sombra’s origin… and yet, she felt incredibly touched by such care from a complete stranger.
Though, she had cared for Sombra all these weeks. Maybe he was just trying to return the favor…
Zlata took a deep breath and hid away her thoughts in the farthest corner of her mind. Now was not the time to get sentimental; her stallions should be back by midday and they should be pretty hungry by then. She needed to make them something nice.
Ah, if only she could prepare some potatoes with a tiny bit of eastern Unicornian spice to make their tongues twist. Sadly, such things were a rarity in this time of year. Maybe Sombra would appreciate Zlata’s cooking just as her family did.
***
“Took you long enough.” Rubin carefully rubbed the side of the crystal rifle as the two amateurs approached him. He was wearing a light furry coat, which made Sombra’s skin crawl a little; wearing another creature as clothing was not a common thing to see. Especially when the coat was so badly made that it was clear it used to belong to something else. “Come on, rookies, we’ve got a lot to kill today.”
“Oh, that’s terrific! What do we hunt?” Orthoclase took a deep breath and tried to sound enthusiastic. “Rabbits? You want to add some more fur on your armor?”
“No, we’ve got a much more dangerous prey to kill today.” Rubin smiled slyly. “The patrols have been reporting a disturbing wolf activity lately. You know what that means…”
Orthoclase’s skin turned pale and he took a few steps back, looking around like an animal caught in a trap. “Th-the white alpha, right?”. Rubin nodded solemnly.
“White alpha? What’s that?” Sombra inched closer to Rubin, shivering a little from the cold breeze. Rubin turned to Sombra, looking a bit surprised.
“You’ve never heard of it? Strange. I thought caravan ponies know a lot of folk tales.”
“Ponies I knew appearently didn’t.” Sombra replied jokingly.
“Good enough. I’ll tell you on the way, we don’t want to stand around for too long.” Rubin stepped on a shallow road that was just barely visible under a layer of snow. Sombra and Orthoclase followed suit.
“Once every winter, when prey is most scarce, many small packs of wolves gather together. One hungry wolf is bad enough — it will fight to the death, and if you run, it will hunt you down until you collapse, defenseless and exhausted. A pack of hungry wolves can slaughter an entire village, and when there’s several packs… you get the idea.” Rubin coughed a few times, clearing his throat and looked around, as if wary of something. Sombra took a moment to look around as well.
Now it seemed weird that he hadn’t paid any attention to the nature of these lands during his trip. Maybe his eyes were clouded with grief and shame and he couldn’t see straight, otherwise he would have noticed how beautifully the trees looked, dressed in the shawl of snow. Krystal would have loved to see this.
Sombra sighed heavily, checked if Orthoclase was watching him, and, once sure that he wasn’t, opened the pendant and looked at the picture. Krystal had put all of her effort into drawing this, just to show how much she held him dear...
“But the most notable thing about this big pack is that it is always lead by a big white wolf, the white alpha. The legends say that it is an old god of war, reincarnated in wolf’s guise to bring destruction and pain upon the enemies of this land. And, since ponies are the only worthy threat, it leads the pack to attack us.” Rubin resumed his tale, still looking around cautiously. “But that’s just legends. In reality, it’s nothing more but an overgrown white wolf. The bad part is that it’s as strong and ferocous as three of its kin. We never hunt that monster alone. Only in teams.”
“W-we’re not going after it, yes?” Orthoclase murmured, trying to hide the worry in his voice.
“Nah. We’re just going to thin out the pack. We’re too far away from the wolves’ hunting grounds, so they shouldn’t be much of a problem. Still, watch your croups out there. Zlata’s going to eat me alive if she finds out I took you here, Ortho.”
“That sounds… bad.” Orthoclase coughed nervously a few times.
“Excuse me, sir, but if we’re hunting wolves, shouldn’t we get some weapons? Maybe just a simple blade?” Playing the polite one made Sombra sick, but this pony took him in at his hour of need. He needed to be respectful.
“No, not yet. For now, you’ll just get a demonstration. I’ll shoot some wolves from the distance, we get some wolf pelts for sale, and that’s about it.” Rubin dropped a glance at Sombra. “You’re already hungry for blood, eh?”
Sombra stumbled, trying to pick the best answer for that. If he said yes, he might look like a psycho. If he said no, he might look like a coward.
“Just curious, sir.” It seemed like the best reply to him.
“I see. Don’t worry, one day we’ll be hunting together. And you can drop the ‘sir’. It makes me feel old.”
Sombra nodded, taking a mental note for himself. This was a big trouble off his list - even though still indebted, he at least would not need to grovel.
***
After at least half an hour of walking into the wilderness, Sombra felt the metaphorical noose around his neck tightening. The deeper they ventured, the more unsettling it got. When he was wandering alone, he was more concerned with survival than his surroundings, but now he embraced the full array of emotions one would feel when lost in a place like this.
Sombra felt shameful to admit it, but he was, in fact, more scared than Orthoclase, though he was able to contain his fear. Rubin, however, looked as calm as a mountain. He must have walked these woods thousands of times; that was the only explanation Sombra could find.
The snowbanks got thicker, the sky got darker and the air colder. The sounds were muffled by the forest, the giant trees were like a gag that consumed the screams of anypony that would dare to walk inside. Sombra began to question Rubin’s intention. Was he really planning on ‘training them’ as the elder pony spoke, or did he just want to kill them in a place where no living soul would look?
“We’re almost here,” Rubin stated, signalling the two ponies behind him to halt. “See these tracks?” He pointed his hoof at the snow in front of himself. Sombra noticed a few places, where the snow was crushed.
“They’re close. Take it slowly from here.” Rubin took out his rifle, slowly taking a step after step, using the crystal gun as a support. Orthoclase and Sombra followed suit, afraid to even squeak.
Soon, they approached a narrow opening between the thick cover of braches overlooking a small field. Rubin’s face turned stern as he laid on the ground, swiping the snow away so it would not hinder his sight and aimed the rifle at two figures in the distance.
Sombra narrowed his eyes and managed to make out that the two figures were actually two wolves, ferociously ripping the corpse of a recently killed elk into pieces.
“Looks like they managed to find dinner. Good. They won’t be running as fast with their bellies full.” Rubin grumbled and concentrated on aiming. “Watch and learn, kiddos. It’s about to get gory.”
Sombra didn’t even have time to shudder the the loud bang pierced his ears. The bolt of magical energy flew through the air and hit the unsuspecting wolf right in the side. The terrifying whimper of pain tore through the usual silence of the forest, as the beast got knocked back from impact, bleeding heavily. The other wolf quickly ran away before Rubin could snipe him.
“Got him,” he growled in satisfaction, looking at the whimpering wolf, desperately trying to crawl after its comrade, but only quickening its demise. “Too bad the other one got away. Come on, now.”
Rubin hid the rifle in the holster and came out of the bushes, the two boys trotted carefully after him. When they finally approached their prey, Sombra almost vomited from sheer brutality. The wolf had a gaping hole in its side, blood was running down its grey hide. Every time the beast drew breath, blood gushed out of the wound, staining the snow around it in crimson. The partially eaten carcass of the elk did not help the situation.
“Poor bastard. Struck down in his most glorious moment.” Rubin sneered, looking at the dying animal. “So, who wants to take its hide?”
Sombra took a moment to ponder how it would be to skin an animal alive, and that thought made him even more sick. Such amount of gore was too much for his mind. Judging by the color of Orthoclase’s face, he had the same thought.
“Ah, fine, fine. I’ll do it myself. I suggest you keep your eyes closed.” Rubin laughed, carefully pulling a short blade out of the second holster with his teeth.
“Yeah, that’ll be a good idea.” Orthoclase murmured and distanced himself from the gory process. Sombra thought the idea as a smart one and followed him.
The two young stallions stood without looking at each other and without even sharing a word. They just didn’t know what to say. The rough way they were introduced to each other did not help. But, despite that, Sombra still couldn’t outright say he hated this Orthoclase character, so, for the time being, he brushed him away as merely annoying.
“It’s cold.” Orthoclase murmured, sitting down and rubbing his hooves together, breathing over them to make the blood run faster.
“Glad you noticed,” Sombra deadpanned, following his example. Their conversation ended at that, as they sat together, looking at the forest around them, occassionally wrinckling their noses at the sound of Rubin loudly cussing when he cut the wrong place and got a large amount of blood sprayed in his face.
As time passed, Sombra almost began to fall asleep; the sickness subsided, there were no images of his previous life in his mind. He felt calm, for a change. However, his heart started to beat madly when he heard a loud howl nearby.
“Did you hear that?” Sombra turned to Orthoclase who quickly nodded.
“Dad, are you done there?” Orthoclase shouted, trying to get his father’s attention. “Dad! Dad!” Finally, he turned around, in angerous worry. “Come on, dad, we’ve got to hurry!”
Sombra turned around as well and saw Rubin, standing motionless over the carcass of the wolf, which he half finished skinning, with a blade in his mouth, staring into the depths of the forest.
“Erm… dad… Wha-” Ortho was unable to finish his question as Rubin growled in a terrified, quiet voice.
“Run…” Despite the blade in his mouth, the words he spoke were clear as day. At first, Sombra didn’t understand what he was talking about, but then he saw a pair of yellow eyes.
A huge grey wolf stepped out of the bushes, not far from Rubin and the carcasses. His thick hide was partially wet from the melting snow, its fur looked rough, and the many scars on its body where the fur was absent whatsoever, revealed the wolf to be a veteran for its kind. Its yellow eyes switched between Sombra, Orthoclase and Rubin, and the hungry growl it was emitting clearly showed its intentions.
Sombra felt his heart stop when he saw the monster and started to shudder at the sight of its humongous, sharp fangs. Whatever this canine demon would catch in its mouth would not escape with its limbs in place.
“Run!” Rubin shouted at the top of his lungs. The wolf finally decided between the choice of meals and charged right at Rubin, baring its fangs.
Sombra had a few thoughts flash in his mind — maybe he should help Rubin fight the beast. That would help him earn Rubin’s respect. He brushed them off immediately, as he turned to Orthoclase.
“Come on, we’ve got to get out of here!” he commanded. Orthoclase stared at his father and the wolf, engaged in mortal combat, then turned around and ran. Sombra quickly took the lead.
However, in this position of a ‘leader’, Sombra was introduced to an even more horrific scene: the large pack of wolves, circling around the field, hidden in the thick forest, behind the trees. They were surrounded completely. However, Sombra kept silent and ran as fast as he could — there was no other way out, and if he and Ortho wanted to stay alive, they needed to get through this ambush.
Finally, they reached the edge of the field and entered the forest. Sombra was worried about Orthoclase losing sight of him and getting lost in the forest, but the young stallion was running right behind him, panting heavily as he ran out of breath.
Sombra began to feel tired as well; the thick snowbanks made it hard to move, making it feel as they were running while kneedeep in water. But they had to keep going — one pause, and they would be dead in a heartbeat.
“Sombra!” Orthoclase suddenly shouted. Sombra almost turned his head to look at him questioningly, when he noticed, in his peripheral vision, a grey figure, charging right at them. Feeling terror filling his every fiber, Sombra entrusted his own safety to instincts and bent his knees, falling face first into the snow. This decision, however, appeared to have saved his life as he heard a whistle above him, as a wolf lunged right over his head.
He could hear Orthoclase swear profusely as Sombra got back on his hooves. It took him only a moment to realize what he was so scared of.
It seemed that their little escape had drawn the wolves to them. There were at least seven pairs of hungry staring at them from the shadows.
The wolf that almost pounced on Sombra got up and turned to the two, snarling menacingly, preparing itself for another lunge, as it was joined by another two wolves.
“Fucking Abyss… there’s so many of them…” Orthoclase whispered. “So many…”
Sombra took a deep breath, trying his best to suppress the terror that were brooding inside of him. He found himself in a situation that he never found himself in before. It felt so scary… yet so invigorating.
Do or die. He and Orthoclase had to fight back the pack of wolves, or become their meal. It seemed impossible, but Sombra quickly remembered his past mistakes. There was nothing impossible. If he had the guts to rob a store, he would not back away from a fight. Not anymore.
“Orthoclase, grab something! We’re going to fight them!” Sombra shouted, looking at the hungry wolves, showing off his own fangs, in vain hopes that it would have some effect on them.
“Are you crazy? There’s only two of us!” Orthoclase replied. “Hold on… You’re a unicorn! Cast something! Summon a firestorm or some shit!”
“I can’t cast magic when I’m frustrated!” Sombra growled in reply.
“Oh, excuse me, you want me to give you a blowjob or something?! We’re going to die here!” Ortho shouted in anger, which proved to be a bad decision, as one of the wolves lunged straight at him, aiming its claws right at his face. Before Sombra had even fully registered Orthoclase’s words, Orthoclase was down on the ground, fighting for his life against the beast.
The wolf sinked its claws deep into Ortho’s shoulders and opened its maw to feast, but the desperate stallion managed to shove both of his forelegs into its mouth in a futile attempt to stop it. As the canine’s fangs drew blood, Orthoclase let out a chilling shriek, tearing his vocal cords in one big scream of pain.
Without time to think or ponder, Sombra rushed right at the two, lowering his head, aiming his horn at the wolf. As he ran, he felt his heart beat faster and faster, felt hot as if it was in the middle of the summer.
Each step felt like an eternity, but all of it came to an abrupt end when Sombra felt the disgusting warmth of flesh on his forehead. Even though he had reached his target, Sombra didn’t even think of stopping, striking the snow with his hooves, as he literally tore the wolf off of Orthoclase. The poor lad screamed when the beast’s claws got pulled out of him, leaving the wounds in the worse state than before.
Sombra ran and ran, still with the wolf impaled before him until he hit something hard. He heard a loud satisfying crack and a loud gurgle, uttered by the wolf as it drew its last breath. Holding his breath, Sombra quickly pulled his horn out of the wolf’s body and immediately regretted it as warm, sticky blood streamed down his face.
He slowly aimed his sight at the wolf and, to his own surprise, felt nothing but pride to see the beast collapse on the snow, uttering loud squelchy sounds as blood gushed out of the wound. That feeling was shortlived, however, it quickly subsided as he turned around to see if Orthoclase was alright.
“Ortho, can you stand?” He approached his injured comrade, helping him get up.
“Y-yeah… I’m good.” Orthoclase was obviously not; the torn wounds on his shoulders were bleeding and he struggled to stand with horrible pain in his forelegs. But he still stood.
Sombra swiped the blood from his face, but it only served to further smear blood all over his face. There was no time for prettying up — the wolves still crept around them.
“Get down!” The scream deafened Sombra and before he could react Orthoclase tackled him, saving him yet from another pouncing wolf. Sombra saw the wolf leap over them, and, to its misfortune, land right on a pointy branch, impaling itself. It roared and clawed the tree, unable to believe to have found itself in such a position, and eventually, it managed to free itself.
Both ponies quickly crawled away from the wounded beast, but were immediately attacked by another one. Sombra felt a slight pull on his rear. The attacking wolf had grabbed him by the tail and was dragging him away, to its brethren, no doubt.
Orthoclase reacted quickly, despite the shock and the wounds. He dug his bleeding forehooves into the snow and then kicked the wolf right in the head with both of his hindlegs. With loud whining, the hungry animal fell into the snow and then retreated, its lower jaw bleeding profusely.
“Agh… good kick.” Sombra murmured, getting up and shaking his tail.
“Yeah. I think I broke its jaw.” Orthoclase took a deep breath, squinting from the pain piercing his shoulders. “Abyss take these fucking wolves… it hurts so bad…”
When Sombra got up and looked around, he was surprised to find that the amount of yellow eyes surrounding them had decreased to zero. It seemed that the pack had retreated.
“They’re gone…” Sombra murmured the beginning of an insane grin tugging at the corners of his mouth. “They’re gone.”
“Gone?” Orthoclase looked around. “You’re right! We fucking did it! We’re still alive!”
Two ponies looked at each and started to giggle. They weren’t friends, they didn’t even know each other for that long, but they’d survived. Together. And if it wasn’t for each other, they both would already be dead, and they both knew that.
The nervous giggles turned into laughter, as they both looked at the battlefield: one dead wolf, one still clinging to life as it spilled guts out of its stomach, and that one messenger, that signalled the pack to retreat with its screaming. They felt great for a moment, having endured through this massacre.
Only after they ceased laughing, they felt a chill run down their spines, as a low growl resounded through the air.
The source thereof presented itself as the braches parted in front of a magnificent creature, the creature that put both stallions into a state of such horror that they could do nothing but stare at it.
With snow crunching underneath its massive paws, with the very wind afraid to ruffle its majestic fur, the white alpha walked forth, its eyes focused on two ponies.
Sombra felt his every limb going numb when he gazed into the blue eyes of the legendary wolf. He felt completely insignificant, a tiny, puny worm in front of the massive monster.
The white alpha was a head taller than Emperor Lux — at least as Sombra remembered him — and had strong limbs. One could only theorize just how much strength those muscles could muster, but it was certain that two young ponies were like bugs in comparison.
It was at this moment that Sombra thought of using dark magic. He desperately looked through his mind for a suitable spell, but there was nothing, nothing at all. There was just no spell that he knew of that would deal raw damage, without basing itself on emotion. Any simple arcane spell seemed like it would only piss off the white alpha.
The wolf leader finally stopped in its approach, focusing its blue eyes on Sombra. Deep within the blue lagoon of the beast’s sight Sombra saw endless wisdom, far beyond that of a common beast. It felt as if it tried to communicate with him. Only with him.
What would it say if it could speak? Congratulate on fighting bravely? Angrily promise to avenge its wolven brethren’s death?
The white alpha took a few steps back and… dashed back into the wilderness. It disappeared as suddenly as it had appeared, leaving behind only deep tracks and two stallions scared shitless.
Slowly, the paralysis let go of their bodies as the ponies began to breathe. It felt as if they had just glanced into the eyes of death, which had deemed them too puny to die.
Sombra slowly turned his head, looking around to see if there was anything else ready to attack and, after confirming that they were safe, he fell on his knees, feeling devastated.
Such power… such magnificence… the white alpha was a truly magnificent creature, that could have killed them in a moment’s notice… and yet it didn’t. How could a beast hold so much power over a pony?
Sombra’s ears perked up when he heard the snow crunching and he carefully turned, hoping that it would not be another wolf. They were in no state to fight anymore, such an easy prey for any hunter. However, to his surprise, he saw Rubin, slowly limping his way to them.
The poor pony looked horrible. There were long claw-marks on his neck and chest that bled as he walked, he was missing a big part of his skin on right foreleg and there was a deep wound on his left hindleg, which gushed blood every single time he made a step. Rubin held the bloodied blade in his mouth and barely managed to stand, using his rifle as a support.
“D-dad!” Orthoclase exclaimed and quickly advanced towards his father, ignoring the pain in the shoulders. “Thank the Emperor you’re alive.”
Rubin’s jaws trembled as he barely forced them open. The blade fell into the snow, along with a few drops of blood from his mouth.
“You… you colts… luckiest fuckers alive…” he murmured, coughing blood. “I’m such an idiot… Such a fucking idiot….”
“We need to get out of here! Come, Sombra, help him walk!” Orthoclase shouted and Sombra quickly joined him in assisting Rubin. He put the crystal gun back into the wounded pony’s holster and let him lean against him.
“Ortho’s right. We’ve got to get out of here.” Sombra groaned a little when Rubin leaned on him, but the burden lessened when Orthoclase let Rubin use him as a support as well.
“Sorry I brought you here, boys… Hurry up! They will return once they feel that we’re weak. Go, I’ll show you the way.” Rubin let out a moan of agony as Sombra and Orthoclase began walking. They wanted to hurry, but were forced to move at a snail’s pace. They couldn’t risk injuring Rubin even further.
***
“I can’t believe you did this! I just can’t believe it! You stupid, stupid pony!” Zlata roared like a monster and for a moment Sombra wondered if she was the white alpha in disguise.
“I know, sweetheart, I know... “ Rubin murmured, coughing blood as Zlata helped him lie down on the couch. “I fucked up…”
“Oh, this fuck up will cost you your life! When you’re back on your feet, I’ll kill you!” The furious mother and wife growled and then turned to the colts, to which she then spoke in the kindest of voices: “Quickly, sweeties, get in your room, the doctor will come soon.”
It looked like Zlata wasn’t scared of wounds, which, considering her position as a wife of a soldier, was entirely logical. She approached Orthoclase and started inspecting his wounds. “Oh sweet Emperor, it looks so bad… Oh, Emperor save and protect my poor child…”
“Hey, don’t I get some kind of moral support?” Rubin forced a smile on his tortured face.
“Shut your face, you old moron!” Zlata hissed angrily. After making sure Orthoclase wasn’t mortally wounded, she gave him a kiss, told him to proceed to his room and moved to Sombra. “Sweet gods… your head…”
“Don’t worry, I’m not hurt.” Sombra comforted the caring wife, swiping the blood from his horn to show that it was not his. “That horn’s not just for magic, you see.”
Zlata sighed with relief. “Good… Good. Could you please help me out? I’ve got so much to do: prepare the bandages, clean the wounds, fetch the doctor… Oh, damn you, Rubin, you old fart!”
“Of course. What do I need to do?”
“Clean Rubin’s wounds while I treat Ortho, please. I’ll handle the rest.” She let out a heavy sigh. “Thank you, Sombra.”
Sombra didn’t even have time to reply as Zlata rushed to Orthoclase’s room, leaving her husband alone with the newcomer.
“Typical of Zlata — always pampering her little cutie son… Gargh…” Rubin coughed, covering the bleeding wound on his side while hissing in agony. “Say, lad… do you even know how to clean wounds?”
“Err… no, sir.” Sombra replied, much to Rubin’s irritation.
“Then you’re going to have to learn it on the go. There’s a bottle of spirit in the cupboard over there. Fetch that, a piece of cloth and a towel. It should all be there.”
Sombra nodded, approached the cupboard and opened the first slot, quickly finding a big bottle full of clear liquid, which Sombra assumed to be alcohol. He looked in the other sections and found a small white cloth and a big towel. He clasped all of it with magic and brought back to Rubin.
“Now, drench the cloth in alcohol.” Sombra obeyed, pouring the contents of the bottle on the white cloth. “Good. Now, you can get to cleaning.”
Sombra felt a big ball of vomit climbing up his throat as he carefully cleaned each wound. Rubin gritted his teeth as hard as he could, and while the pain of alcohol burning his flesh was not the worst he ever felt, it was still agonizing. The couch underneath him got soaked in blood and each time Rubin made a sudden movement it would squelch, making Sombra feel even more sick.
Finally, most of the wounds were cleaned and dried, and as Sombra was finishing up his dirty work, Rubin started laughing.
“She’s probably letting him suckle on her hoof or something… Raising a dickless tit, that’s what she’s doing… Nggh..” He grumbled when Sombra aciddently pressed on the wound a little harder than needed. “Sorry to bore you with this sentimental downpour, Sombra. This old pony needs to let out his steam somehow.”
“It’s okay, I don’t mind.” Sombra replied, carefully swiping the last drops of alcohol from Rubin’s wound, as he finished up. “I think it’s done, sir.”
“Good… good. Now I only have to wait for Zlata to stitch ‘em up. I could have done it myself, but… Aaargh…” He moaned as a big gush of blood poured out of the wound on his leg. Sombra quickly dried it up. “That beast tore me up pretty good... “
“Erm…” Sombra coughed, feeling guilt eating away at him. “Sorry for leaving you behind, sir. If I stayed, I could have helped kill that wolf.”
“Don’t be an idiot, you wouldn’t have helped me at all! That monster was way out of your league… Then again, you held up against the pack, as I’ve seen… and…” Rubin suddenly paused, and Sombra noticed color fading from his face. “When I saw the white alpha leaning towards you two… I think I died inside... Thank the Emperor it left…”
“I wonder what scared it away.” Sombra murmured, looking at Rubin’s wounds, fretting over his disability to help the stallion.
“No idea, son… No idea.” The room went silent for a minute, except for occassional groans and sighs. Suddenly, Rubin reached for Sombra and put his hoof on his shoulder.
“Tell me, Sombra… when you stood your ground against those wolves, side by side with my son… Were you afraid? Did you want to run away?”
At first, Sombra didn’t know how to reply. He could try to play a hero and tell that he wasn’t afraid, but that would be such a big lie. Sombra wasn’t a skillful liar, not at all. Telling the truth seemed the most sensible thing.
“Yes, sir. I was very scared…” Sombra wlited down, expecting something bad to happen. Instead, he felt a reassuring pat on the shoulder.
“Good. Very good.” Rubin smiled. “Having fear and being able to control it is the defining trait of a good fighter.” He glanced at Sombra’s bloodied horn. “Ingenuity as well.”
Both ponies grinned.
“I like you, Sombra. You’re a good sport.” Rubin’s words felt like honey on a soul that longed for it. “Something makes me think that the white alpha was driven away by you. The way it stared at you and then left was… unnerving. There’s something in you that you yet still need to discover.”
“There’s nothing to discover.” Sombra sighed heavily. “It probably left because it considered us not worth its time.”
“Possible. But who are we to judge?...” He paused for a brief moment, then smiled. “I’ll ask it once the hunting team brings it decapitated head to the town!” He laughed hoarsely. “Listen, Sombra, how about we, after I get back on my feet, do some training? I feel like you have the potential to be a great asset to our glorious motherland.”
Sombra was quite surprised to hear that this was an actual offer, not an order or a demand, something to be expected from a soldier. But whatever it was, Sombra was going to agree either way.
“I would be honored, sir.”
“Good. Very good. Now, stop calling me that for real. It’s getting annoying.” Rubin inhaled deeply, squinting from the pain. “Argh… Go wash yourself or something… I’ll wait here… Not in a hurry at all!” He shouted as loud as he could, to make sure Zlata heard him. Sombra nodded and started looking for a washtub. There had to be one in the house.
His new life started rather interestingly. He almost died, killed an animal and got himself signed up for an army training — all in one day. But he enjoyed such kind of business. It took his mind away from the thoughts about the past. It made him forget about the wrongs he did and never managed to correct.
A fresh start — he had finally claimed it. Now, everything would be different. Everything.