//------------------------------// // Prologue: Mera // Story: The Mark of Eran // by Tofazz //------------------------------// Mera Moxie sighed lightly, careful not to show her irritation to her husband. They both sat still on their pillows within the dark room, waiting for the sage that reads the future of all Ghazath family members; it was now her turn as the newest. While Athaal held a rigid posture (he seemed unfazed by the darkness within the room), she just sat there, imagining the walls falling upon her, and the muscles in her legs tingled with a numbing sensation. She tried her best to mimic Athaal’s stoic posture, but each little sound within the room pierced her ears like a chilled shriek, making her shiver. The blackened walls closed all light away, save a few slivers passing through the red sheets draped over the few windows there were. The minimal furnishing added to the guise, there being only coffers and a table with animal bones, skulls and runestones placed upon them. She swore some of the skulls were watching her. The incense smelled like fresh rain, mixing in the air with the smell of burnt wick, giving it a certain toxic edge that stung in her nostrils. She wanted to leave, but she did not wish to add insult upon the sage. Sensing her distress, Athaal moved close to her and reassured her in ways only he could, offering his warmth and humming softly into her ear. After what seemed like hours a pony emerged from behind the black drapes in the back of the room. He stopped for a brief moment and turned his head towards them, as if he was assessing the two. He then cleared his throat and made his way over. He had a long, beige hood covering most of his face, casting a deep shadow over his eyes. Only strands of white beard could be seen on his wrinkled muzzle. The cloak covered his whole body except for the tip of his graying hoofs. As he sat down, he slowly placed his hoofs on the center of the table. “Please, put your hoofs in front of me and relax, Lady of Ghazath.” He reassured in a raspy voice. Moxie let a sigh escape her lips and placed her hoofs on the table. The sage quickly rested his hoofs on top of hers and took a deep, audible breath. As they touched, an unknowing pull grew inside of her, tightening her chest uncomfortably. She quickly withdrew her hoofs and glared at the sage. She had only agreed to this for Athaal’s sake, and viewed the whole ordeal as a charade. Yet, what she had just felt was new, and it vanished the moment their hoofs parted. “You doubt my abilities...” the Sage said quickly. “I am sorry, Sage.” Moxie bowed her head slightly, letting her mane fall over her eyes. “I do not mean to disrespect your abilities with my thoughts,” trying her best to keep the light tremble in her voice in check. “I take no payment for my services, I gain nothing from what I do; you may lessen your concern with that knowledge. You have nothing to fear within this room. No harm will come to you,” he reassured. The sage withdrew his hoofs. He sat completely still, eyes closed, deep in thought. He then pulled his hood back and looked at Moxie, causing her to inhale sharply. Her heart raced as she looked upon him in the meek light casted by the candles. The orange light from the flame barely touched upon the azure irises that covered his pupils, with deep, white scars surrounding them. His ears were clipped off, leaving only deep pits and giving his head a round shape. He had a thin, white mane, splitting into small strands over his forehead. His face seemed hollow as he looked at her, deep grooves showing under his protruding cheekbones, only hollowed more by the shadows. The blank eyes staring past her sent shivers down her spine. She had to call upon all her mental strength to not jerk back in in a mix of disgust and surprise. As her mother had taught her, she remained rigid in her posture. He smiled comfortingly at her, revealing a mouth lacking teeth. “Everyone reacts like you the first time I take off my hood. You have no need to worry. In this room, we are free from all traditions. We are all equal. So speak any questions you may have. I can assure you, I have heard them all.” “What... happened to you?” “A spitter-scorpion doused my face in toxin when I was hiking for mushrooms. Hitting my eyes first, this is what I lost completely. My ears needed to be cut, or else the toxin would rot the flesh and kill me. I’m lucky to still live. Each day, my body struggles with the effects of the toxin that remain in me. Each day I conquer it, and each night I prepare myself to meet it the day after.” The sage spoke solemnly and without bitterness for his fate. Moxie stared into his blank, azure eyes. Even if he was blind, she had the feeling he still watched her. “Can you see me?” She immediately rolled her eyes over her own stupid question. He smacked his lips, then said, “Not in your sense, no. I cannot see the vibrant color of your mane, nor can I see the slight red tone you get in your cheeks when you talk to your husband.” He shook his head. “No, I cannot see. I have seen many things in my life, things I wish I had never seen. But once the clear colors of this world left me, I realized how much it meant to me, no matter how harsh. Even the orphan foals running through our streets searching for something they have lost, for they were a truth no one could change. I would lie if I said I didn’t miss it. After I healed from the toxin I was blessed with another sight. Perhaps a blessing from Eran himself, or maybe a curse? My eyes now reveal the truth about others, their future if you want. Sometimes I see things on those paths I take joy in telling, other times I wish my eyes would betray me... just like now...” He smiled ruefully at her, “Shall we begin?” Her eyes still resting at the wicked forms of his face, she nodded slowly while burning his image in her mind. Her cheeks flushed at her own forgetfulness before she audibly answered. “Yes, let’s begin.” “You have trials ahead of you, trials you will need the support of others to overcome. Your spirit is strong; it radiates of youth... and from within you I sense the beginning of a life not yet ready for this world, or your future...” “What are you—” Moxie interrupted. “She’s pregnant?!” Athaal asked hastily. She turned her orange eyes towards Athaal, at first annoyed by his sudden interruption. A smile curled over her lips as she saw the glimmer of joy in his eyes over the possibility of becoming a father. She giggled before she started again. “What my eager husband just said—are you saying I’m pregnant?” He nodded in confirmation and continued. “Yes, but its future is not decided by you. Your path is covered in an unclear fog; it clouds my vision. It splits into two roads, none which you can decide to take. Not too long from now you will meet a pony, an old friend, or perhaps an enemy; the bond between you is unclear. Where you will meet is uncertain, but know this—once you meet, your life and your unborn foal is in that pony's hoofs.” The gimpy-winged pegasus stifled a snort. “My life and my foal’s, if I even am pregnant, is mine and Athaal’s decision, not somepony else’s.” The sage’s iris filled eyes stared blankly at her. “Do not doubt my words, young one. My words ring only of truth. When the time comes, you need to realize that, or else your story stops by this year’s end. I wish my eyes would betray me, but so far, they have not.” Moxie snarled. “Your eyes are wrong this time, Sage. Whatever you think you see in my future, it is wrong. I will prove that to you.” She spoke with a tone slightly harsher than intended. Athaal put a hoof upon hers, and shook his head before she said anything further. She had crossed a line. He turned towards the sage. “How will we know when we meet this pony?” The sage shook his head regretfully. “I do not know. It is up for both of you to figure out together.” Athaal rose, and motioned for Moxie to do the same. “Thank you for your wisdom.” Her eyes met Athaal’s when she took his hoof, even if he smiled at her she saw a hint of regret in them. She knew the sages in Saddle-Arabia were highly respected by nobles and peasants alike, almost as much as the priests of Eran. They were above the law and could do as they wished. She turned and looked at the monstrosity that was the sage. The scars on him burned into her memory. Relief came as he showed no malice towards them, his eyes stared as they walked, but as before it was like he looked at something around her. The morning sun and the fresh breeze offered a pleasant change from the thick air inside, and her eyes stung a from the quick transition from dark to light. She stopped and closed her eyes, letting it warm her ivory fur. She unfurled her wings, allowing them to gain some warmth as well. She quickly withdrew her left wing. The deformations in it made it hurt if it stretched out too far. A smile came to her, feeling the tip of her ears become slightly warmer than the rest of her body due to the light blue color on them. Moxie shot her eyes up at hearing a low thud in front of her. Her watanï, Saif Tham, landed close to her, appearing from wherever he had stood watch. Saif’s light brown leather armor covered most of his body except his forehoofs; where he had metal plating with nails on it. Over his chest he had a belt with small canteens of liquid. He wore a black hood and a band over his mouth and nose that covered most of his face, but left his emerald green eyes clear as day. His hoofs were covered in light brown leather. He always appeared quickly in front of Athaal and Moxie, getting her to jolt every time. “Saif!” Moxie shrieked, “I have told you not to do that!” “My pardons, my lady.” Saif apologized. Athaal jumped between them and embraced Saif. “I’m going to be a father, Saif! Can you believe it?!” Saif bowed his head slightly. “Congratulations, my Lord.” from under his mask, a small grin appeared. “But it is rather easy to believe, you are quite loud at night... my Lord.” Moxie glared at them, her cheeks becoming warmer by the second. A comment like that from a watanï to a lord would normally be punished severely, but Saif was Athaal’s adoptive brother. Even if he was their guard, brotherly jokes were often passed between them; sometimes they came at her expense. She had never learnt to trust Saif completely. He was her brother in law, and her guardian, but she had never seen his face. At times, she also caught him glaring at her. It made her uneasy, but she trusted Athaal’s judgment. She also reasoned that having his brother around was good for Athaal. It made him feel less on the edge about being a husband, and now possibly a father. Athaal tried to jab at Saif for his comment, but only succeeded in striking the air. Out of the two brothers, Athaal had the strength, but Saif had a light body, making him agile like a cat when he wanted to. While watching the scene unfold in front of her, a worrying thought echoed in her mind. What if the Sage was right? What if she indeed was pregnant, and had no control over her or her foal’s life. No matter how much she denied anypony’s ability to look into the future, she could not put aside the thought of ‘what if’. Athaal came over to Moxie and nuzzled her softly on the cheek. “Everything alright?” A sigh escaped her lips before she gathered her thoughts. “What if he’s right? I mean... do we really want to bring a foal into the world if my future is so unclear?” “Don’t worry about that, dear. Whatever the sage saw, we will come through it. I will protect you no matter what.” Athaal embraced her. He let her go and held her at hoofs length. “Come, let’s go home and spend the rest of the day on the couch.” She giggled. When not having anything to do, her husband was incredibly lazy. Even so, he spent most of his time either training with his sword or working with his father at the Ministry of Border Control. She couldn’t blame him when he wanted to relax on occasion. As they began to move through the crowded streets, her eyes quickly landed on her husband; he looked like a mighty knight in the sun. His dark brown mane danced in the wind as they walked. In the light, she saw his muscular body move under his light brown fur. His eyes were emerald green, just like his adoptive brother Saif, but he had a ring of pure black around his iris; it was the mark of a great warrior. “I guess you’re right...” She said quietly. But what if you can’t? She thought as she trained her eyes to the sky.