//------------------------------// // A New Debt // Story: Something Worth Fighting for // by Blade Heart //------------------------------// Orisian had spent a good few minutes addressing his wounds with the cloth Zecora had given him, and afterwards tried to get some sleep right beside the door. It only seemed like a few minutes later, but it wasn't Zecora who woke him up, rather, it was voices that didn't rhyme whenever they spoke. Both were feminine, and he only heard footsteps when they were right by the door. He was quite surprised to see that they also had features that distinguished them from people in Remor. One had completely purple hair with a horn coming out of the middle of her forehead. Her skin was a pale white, and she wore jewelry that would put the King's wife to shame. She also wore an expensive looking silk shirt with light blue pants that were obviously not made for a forest, already ripped in some places, but still containing tiny shining gems. The other had purple skin, dark blue hair with a stripe of bright pink and light purple. She also had a horn coming from the middle of her forehead. She wore a casual shirt, the kind peasants from Remor would wear while they worked, and durable dark blue pants. Durable by the fact that there was not a scratch on them. Her horn glowed a bright purple, and a few books hovered around her with a light purple aura surrounding them, while she fingered through a book she held in her hands. The 'fancier' one, whom Orisian thought must be royalty, stopped dead in her tracks and let out a slight gasp as she saw him. Her eyes were wide open and her jaw was hanging slightly agape as she looked him up and down. Her friend noticed and looked up from the book, her eyes also widening and jaw hanging open. Orisian looked at them with growing suspicion, but remembered that all he was wearing were pants, and looked down at his body. He was still wet, either from coming from the pool, or the cloth Zecora had given. He was surprised to find that the bullet wounds he had received were completely gone, but his scars from previous battles were still showing. Along with the muscle, and impressive figure a lifetime of conflict brings. Zecora only smiled, and coughed before moving back to the cauldron and stirring. Zecora's interruption freed the two women from their trance, and the royal one spoke first, in a voice that made him think she exaggerated everything. "I- I am Rarity. I was told you needed some... New clothes." Her friend spoke next, in a voice that expressed superior intellect. She seemed to be a bit more controlled. "I, am Twilight Sparkle. I was told you needed some assistance with geography? "Maybe I should... Start... Measuring for your new clothes?" 'Rarity' took a measuring tape from one of the pockets on her pants, and made a gesture that implied he answer the question. Looking around from Twilight to Rarity, and glancing at their horns, he answered in the affirmative. With his permission granted, Rarity moved to begin measuring a little sheepishly, while Twilight hovered multiple books open in front of her, pages moving to rest at the middle of each book. "So, what did you want to know?" Orisian's eyes were fixed on Rarity's horn as she moved behind him to do her 'measuring'. He figured that without his armor, both of their horns were sharp enough to impale him. Not completely moving his attention to Twilight, he asked her where he could find a way to Remor. "Hmm... I've never heard of it..." Flipping through pages of multiple books at a time, she moved the books she wasn't looking at into her field of view, putting the books she was done with closed behind her, and flipping through pages at a seemingly increasing rate. Meanwhile, Rarity was getting a little touchy where she was measuring, running her hands lightly across his abdomen, rather than actually measuring. She seemed to regain control of herself soon enough, however, and quickly went back to doing what she originally had planned. Orisian was getting a bit annoyed, and still didn't trust anyone who had extra features. "I can't seem to find anything named 'Remor'. Maybe I brought the wrong books." Rarity jumped up from where she was measuring, and, a bit embarrassed, giggled. "Well, I have the measurements I need to make you some new clothes. What would like to wear, darling?" Orisian remembered how comfortable he was when he wore his armor to Lord Uwen's wedding. He thought back to how easy he could move when he was protected by armor. He remembered how unstoppable his charge was when he had his armor's weight behind him. In fact, all he could think about wearing was his armor, but seeing as she didn't look like a blacksmith, he settled for something a little lighter. "Whatever she's wearing." Rarity looked over at Twilight, who was rechecking books she had already been through, and looked a bit confused. "You mean something light?" "Aye." "Well, what about a suit? I dare say, you would look... Very attractive in one." Orisian thought of the lords he had seen in suits. Their movements were restricted, and they moved with a forced grace. He didn't know how they could put up with being royalty, but he respected them for it. "No, I'd rather be able to move." Rarity seemed a bit shocked by his answer, but decided against pushing forward. "Twilight, when we get back to Ponyville, may I borrow those clothes?" Twilight looked at Rarity as if she had forgotten what she could do. "You can't just make some of your own?" "Well darling, I'm more used to making dresses and suits. I need to do a little research on how to make more... Simple... Work." Rarity looked at Orisian and gave a shy giggle. Twilight just answered in the affirmative. "So... Uh, what's your name?" He looked at Twilight for a long while before answering her. "My name is Orisian, veteran of the True King's armies, and personal bodyguard to Lord Ryelon... failed personal bodyguard to Lord Ryelon." "Oh darling, what happened?" "I don't think you've earned that information. The last moments of a warrior are only to be shared with his brethren, and his family." "Oh... Very well then." "Are you sure Remor is the only name your kingdom goes by? Maybe it's listed as something else in one of these books." "No, Remor is the most powerful kingdom in the east side of the sea. It borders on becoming an empire." "East side of the seas? Are you sure? I know most of the geography on the north, east and west side of the seas. The south hasn't been a very big part of my studies. Actually, none of the directions were very important, but I had nothing else to study. I had already finished and surpassed most of the spells considered safe for a student my age. Actually, now that I think of it, I'm far past most of th-" "Twilight, darling, don't you think you should be helping him find his home again?" "Maybe it's on the south side. I never much paid attention to geography." "Well, no offense, but it would be very helpful here." "Aye, it would. I'll learn more about it when I get back to Remor, and finish liberating it from the maggots that infest it's lands." "What do you mean?" Orisian was about to answer her question, but Zecora cut in. Handing Orisian a cup of orange liquid, she spoke in the same, mystic rhyme she usually does. "A drink to help set your spirit free, and find out what is your destiny." Orisian took the cup, and remembering that the drink before had been extremely helpful, put his full faith into her concoction, drinking it all in a single gulp. It didn't seem like anything happened. After a while he forgot where he was, until he saw the burning houses of Veritas, and remembered that it was under attack. Immediately he drew his sword. Or not. He couldn't find it. In fact he realized he wasn't even wearing his armor. He was wearing nothing but pants, and was still wet from something. He was confused, but still a Kingsman, so he went to one of the corpses and looted it for weapons, and armor. Or not. He couldn't touch it. His hand went right through it. Fearing that he was being punished, he sprinted in the direction to the King's castle, only to find corpses of his kinsmen and a few pirates scattering the castle grounds and steps. Upon entering the actual castle, he found corpses of nobles scattered throughout. Not just the men, but the women too. But that wasn't the thing that gave him hell. It was his King. His King was a young one, having just inherited the throne from his dying father at age 21. Orisian had been with him from the minute he could walk, and only left when he was old enough to give commands. He had a lot of memories, but they were all pushed aside by the fact that he had failed his duty to protect the king. The great warriors of the past and the old King himself must be looking down on Orisian with hate. It was too much for him to take, and he dropped to his knees, praying forgiveness. He was still praying when he was interrupted by the others. Moving his hands away from his face, he looked around from Twilight to Rarity to Zecora. Remembering that it was Zecora who saved him, and the other two were trying to help him, he took it as incense the Gods were trying to give. He would redeem himself by giving his life to those who earned it. Or would he? The loss of his King left him confused, and utterly destroyed. His will was gone, and his mind was sure to follow. Were the Gods truly trying to help him to redemption? Or was it his curse to live with freaks, harboring the knowledge that he failed the crown? He saw their mouths moving, but heard nothing. He saw them reach out to grab him, but felt nothing. He was so tired. So.. Very... Tired. Maybe it was the sound of bubbling that woke him up, or the sound of a faint hymn, like that of a lullaby. But lifting himself up, he found out that it was neither. He was in Acora, the Hero's Fields. Or Suthor, the Obsidian Realm. He couldn't tell which, and he didn't want to know. He knew he failed. He felt failure. But if he was in Suthor, he would have a chance to redeem himself. The churches never spoke of redemption in the Lost World, but he was a Kingsman. And the Gods would be damned if he didn't make it to the Hero's Table. "Awake so soon? Yours is a mind as tough as stone." Looking over, he saw Zecora stirring her cauldron. His expression must have written his confusion on the wall behind him, for Zecora smiled and, filling yet another cup with clear liquid, walked over and gave it to him. He felt like he was lifting an entire castle when he tried to drink the 'water'. Zecora helped him, and helped him realize he wasn't dead yet. "To travel to another place without moving, is no easy task for a young human." "Young? I'm older than you are woman." "But your mind is not. Not even able to put together a single thought." "What are you talking about?" "A belief that you are dead, has been pushed into your head, no?" "Maybe. But it's gone now." Orisian was feeling a little less drowsy after having drank the liquid, but he still felt like he had an extra thousand pounds weighing down his limbs, which made it extremely difficult to lay back down. "A vision of your home, it was not as you'd hoped?" Orisian only grunted in response, and Zecora frowned, but otherwise made no move to continue the conversation. Moving back to her cauldron, she put in a few other ingredients and went back to stirring. Orisian, for the first time, felt embarrassed. He was a Kingsman, only to show emotion to brethren, and family. And rarely to either. So his next question was a bit forced. "What you gave me... What was it?" "A brew for an eagle's view. Properties of the spirit, allow for a magical experience." "So... It wasn't real?" He looked over at her, hoping for some relief, but he saw only sadness and a shake of the head. "What you saw was a vision of truth, only formed for the mind's youth." He had a feeling that it was his mind's youth, but didn't pay attention to it. He did fail, and he didn't die. The worst part was he wasn't even in Remor anymore. But, the fact was, he had been brought in, healed, and shown what happened to his King. A truth that hurt, even killed his honor, but it was an act that called for a debt. And a Kingsman always repays his debts. He forced himself up, every movement screaming flame. He had a debt to pay for being shown the truth. And he would damn himself if he failed this time. The Gods wouldn't need to worry. "Well, Zecora. What do you need done? I am yours to command. For now." Zecora looked confused at first, but quickly recovered, smiling as if she had no care in the world. She went back to stirring her cauldron. "You've shown me a truth I didn't wish to see. But I am grateful for it. I will serve you until that debt is repaid." Zecora slightly turned her head and looked at him, but soon went back to stirring. Orisian thought that meant she had no need of him now, and slowly and very painfully, went back to laying in the bed. His eyes were closed, and he was drifting off to sleep, but the sound of Zecora's voice woke him up. It was a soothing voice, and he found himself drifting back to sleep before she finished the sentence. "A debt to me is owed. But I will give this to the moon's very own."