//------------------------------// // Chapter 3: Tiquah // Story: The Mark of Eran // by Tofazz //------------------------------// Tiquah         Athaal wandered, a pained expression dominating his features.         The arrival of Rishad had pulled both him and Moxie out of their sleep. Moxie, having slept all day, was still dazed as they greeted the priest. He, the fool that he was, had forgotten to inform her about Rishad coming over. Then again, it’s not like he had the time for it. From Rishad’s wishes, he and Moxie had secluded themselves in the garden. Athaal hoped whatever magic the priest used would help, and that he would inform Moxie on what was ahead of them. He looked outwards, through the stained glass that was between them. The form of his wife sat completely still as the priest weaved his magic. Unsure of what might come from that, he sighed in frustration. Desperately trying to force his mind over to something else, he turned to his brother in the doorway watching him.         “Saif, how many ponies do you predict we will need to make this trip?” He inquired.         Saif ran his hoof down his chin, a habit he had adapted over time as the only cue he gave when he was thinking or worrying. “I’m not sure, I would assume a small squad from our military along with us would be sufficient. We are moving through Linac territory. Although dangerous, a smaller group would have better success at passing unnoticed.”         “That would also cut down on the supplies needed.” Athaal agreed.         The door behind Athaal creaked and Rishad stepped through. “You may see her now, she might be a little tired.”         The noble beamed, “Great! Saif, first thing in the morning you will go and gather some ponies from our ranks that are trustworthy, and willing to travel far for some extra gold.”         Saif bowed, “As you wish.”         Athaal turned and started for the gardens, only to be stopped by the firm hoof of the priest. Rishad drew forth a small golden locket from his pouch and gave it to Athaal. It weighed heavy in his hoof, and the brilliant golden color gleamed in the little sunlight that scarcely reached the garden from over the mountain backs. The oval form had engravings of the most pristine quality, with elegant waves reaching out toward the edges. In the very center, a jewel inside looked back at him. It gave a tiny clicking sound as he opened it, revealing fine red silk on the inside with a small canister of luminescent liquid.         “It is critical that Moxie drinks a small amount of this every night, and mix it with water, a full goblet should be enough.” Rishad explained harshly without leaving his calm tone.         Athaal nodded, “What is it?” He inquired as he held it up close.         “It is magic imbued water from the temple, with a hint of poison joke, some cacti juice to dampen the taste, and other valuable ingredients. This will strengthen the opal I just put on her, and hopefully it will dampen the nightmares as well. After you have given her a mouthful of it, stay with her. It will most likely give her heat waves and shakes. Don’t worry though, it is harmless for the foal. The opal is at full strength now, so you shouldn’t need to replenish it before a day or so has passed. You’ll see when there is a need on the opal.” He stopped and smiled, then put a hoof onto the noble’s shoulder and guided him through the door. “I’ll let your wife explain the rest. Now go; she needs you. I’ll see myself out.”         The door closed behind him. Athaal made his way forward through the brush covered path. She had moved to a secluded place in the garden, past the bushes filled with rosy knops and under the huge tree near the balcony eyeing over Ma’Galag. Once near her, he saw the way her pearl white gown gently hugged her bulging belly, then flowed like a river down her hoofs. He sat down next to her, and she greeted him with a weak smile. The eyes that looked at him were once again burning with the orange fire he loved. It was like they glowed at him. Her coat gained the ivory color, and her adorable tips of ocean blue started to show. Her mane was neatly groomed, catching the last bit of the days light and embracing her in a beautiful cherry halo.         He sat next to his wife, awestruck once more. He saw how the black mark had expanded a little more, stretching out like arms towards her eyes. Now Athaal also saw the opal Rishad talked about. Nestling in the center of her forehead and covering most of the mark, it pulsed with a strange blue light. He felt his heart skip a beat as the blue like pulse reflected in her eyes, and his breath remained hard to catch, even as his lips parted slightly. Her smile welcomed his presence, with lips red as a rose. Once more, he found himself only wanting to hold her tight and close.         She looked at him with slight wonder, “What’s wrong? You look like you have seen a ghost.”         “It’s just... you’re beautiful!” The noble squeaked in an unusually high pitched tone. He felt again the familiar rush of blood and the unusual pressure in his chest, just like when he saw her for the first time after they were to marry.         Moxie giggled, “How lucky I am, that my husband thinks me beautiful.” She shuddered slightly as a gust swept over the garden.         Athaal’s cheek heated up, “You’ll always be beautiful to me, Moxie.” He put his hoof around her and pulled her close, allowing his head to rest upon hers. “I was just surprised at how much better you seemed.”         She sighed, “Yes, I feel wonderful as well. Rishad says that it is only temporarily though.”         Athaal nuzzled her, “What did he do?” he asked.         Moxie shook her head, “I don’t know the details, but the opal on my forehead will hold off the sickness for a while, buying us time and allowing me to rest for a few days.” She took a deep breath, “However, we mustn’t let this make us relax, we still need to travel as fast as possible.”         “I told Saif to gather some ponies from our military tomorrow morning. If everything goes as planned, we will travel in two days.” Athaal comforted.         Moxie gave him a nod, and then settled to relax in the groove of his neck. Around them the light was finally giving in to the ever creeping darkness, and the wind started to blow coolly, nipping at their fur. In the distance they saw dark skies roll forward, blackening the desert underneath. The leaves in the tree they sat under rustled, and a few let go of its grip on the branch and set out to dance in the air. Athaal pulled Moxie closer as he felt her shudder, offering his warmth to her.         Moxie broke the silence between them, “Athaal...” she said meekly.         He turned his head downwards, “Yes?”         “I’m scared...” She squeaked.         Athaal put a hoof under her jaw and lifted it. Her eyes arched down, glistening with moisture, letting a single tear fall from them. He embraced her in his hoofs and let his body rock back and forth while comforting her.         “I’m scared too,” He admitted.         Moxie pressed her muzzle into his fur, “I don’t want to travel to Equestria, and I don’t want to go through with any dangerous expedition...” She took his hoof and rested it on her stomach. “I just want to become a mother, and have a good life here... is that too much to ask for?”         “No, it isn’t...” Athaal started, “but it is what it is,” He took her out on hoofs length and wiped a tear from her chin. “And I will do everything in my power to make you better.”         Moxie smiled softly at him, “Thank you,” she said, placing a warm kiss on his lips.         He returned the kiss tenderly, “Let us go inside. It’s starting to get cold out here, and you should get some sleep while you can.” He suggested, standing up and offering a hoof for her.         She took the offered hoof and rose. Together they walked inside, embracing the night for now. Thoughts barely touched what needed to be done in the future; for now, it was enough. *~*~*~*~*         Saif relocated the pouch of gold underneath his clothing, the coins making an awful amount of noise for his liking. The price some of the merchants took for an express delivery was unjust. Had he not been on a tight schedule, he would change their minds fast. However, he had one more place to be at before dawn came.         He quickly looked around, then flared his wings and, with a strong bat, he shot heavenwards. The soldiers that were willing to join them gave him an uneasy feeling, especially the one named Morad. But even with a bad reputation, his experience in battle would be needed. Much to his surprise, Arien gladly joined them, saying something about needing to repay Athaal for something in the past. Saif didn’t dwell on it, nor was it his place to ask. He was glad the old general came along, for he could keep anyone in check, and his tactical mind was even more cunning than Athaal’s.         Upon the hill behind Ma’galag, he saw the academy growing in size. He welcomed the sight. It had been too long since he saw his old master, and the sun quickly burned upon his wings. He quickly dove down then flared his wings, ending his descent softly and without a sound, taking a good breath he began to make his way forward.         The building stood as a remnant to the kingdom’s peak of power, no materials spared, and flamboyant details both on the entrance and the walls. Being carved straight out of the mountain, it took decades to complete. Still standing with an impressive height of three stories and finely cut details of wings and crowns, it remained one of the largest projects ever completed. Large patches of grass and sandy pits used for training the recruits needed to be crossed before one could reach the entrance hidden behind pillars and statues.         Not long ago, this place allowed only the most elite to graduate, giving the watanï a fearsome reputation. Saif felt a gnarling sense of distress, for he knew the academy had been forced to lower its standards to allow more to graduate. The watanï had gone from being the elite squad to mere bodyguards, protecting corrupt nobles and pitched to their deaths like simple pawns.         He halted and looked upwards, seeing Kazim still holding the same office as when he graduated. Saif flared his wings once more and leaped, much higher than any pony could without the aid of wings, then he landed with a clack upon the stones outside the office of Kazim.         Saif’s old master turned his head around and let an amused expression fall over him. Hazel brown eyes flashed in recognition. The fading brown color of his fur showed slight hint of aging as it lost its color and faded into gray. His black mane hung down the side in a braid, white strands making its appearance. He donned multiple scars, some very visible running down the muscular neck, while some smaller ran over his muzzle and eyes. The brown chitin armor creaked as he leaned forward, it covered all his vital spots, while a black clothing covered the rest of him. As Kazim smiled, he revealed the scar Saif had given him from his graduation duel, running from the corner of his mouth all the way back towards the jaw muscle on his right side.         “Saif Tham,” He said, his voice murky and crass. He rose and bowed deeply, “You bring honor to me with your presence. It has been too long.”         Saif remained stoic, placing his right hoof over his heart, he bowed equally deep. “It has, Master, I wish it was under more joyous circumstances.”         Kazim looked at him with a calculating expression. “You have not changed much, Saif.” He waved his hoof to let Saif sit. “Now, what brings you here?”         Saif bowed once more and sat down, carefully going through what had happened the last three days. Kazim listened intently as Saif explained the Ghazath’s plight, how many soldiers he had managed to hire, and how he needed more ponies around him which knew of other tactics than to smash and hammer. He lastly added the plea of Athaal, of the urgency of the mission.         After Saif finished, Kazim scrunched his brows and spoke. “That is a serious situation… it will be hard, but I think you’ve done smart in coming here for some extra power.” He rose and faced the window, looking down on the training grounds. “You will get two students, and it will be taken as a graduation for them; your brother will not need to worry about the cost as long as we get food and water.”         Saif bowed, “Athaal of Ghazath will be grateful.” He simply responded.         “There are two conditions…” Kazim turned, “I’ll be coming along to keep an eye on the students.” He approached Saif, “There is one student, Zubair, he shows a lot of potential; aces all of his tasks. Like you, he has a temper which he needs to control. He will come as a test to see if he can indeed do just that on a proper mission. Besides… it will be nice to see Arien again.” He said, and a smile split his lips, enhancing the scar.         Saif closed his eyes and nodded in agreement, knowing there was little use in objecting. He trusted Kazim’s decision more than his own at times. However, if Zubair was anything like he was when he enlisted to the Watanï, it could mean trouble.         They exchanged a quick goodbye, along with details as to when and where they would meet, and Saif wandered off again. He stopped for a mere moment to see if he could spot Zubair in the midst of the students training. At first, none of them caught his eye. Then, after a bit, he saw a brutish figure dueling and dealing decisive blows in aggressive motions and little hesitation.         Saif squinted. If that was indeed Zubair, he would need to be reeled in quickly before any harm would come to anyone. Athaal was merciless when it came to insubordination, and seeing as he himself had trouble taking Athaal one on one, this brute would fall quickly. Saif sighed and headed home, looking forward to a night’s rest. Saif entered the study of his brother. The desk which Athaal sat behind was riddled with papers and marked maps; and the white wall plastered with information about the area they would travel. Saif placed the pouch with the scant gold that was left on the desk and sat down on a pillow on the opposite side of Athaal.         “Everything alright?” Saif asked after gaining no response on his entry.         Athaal shrugged, “No... I can’t say it is. The only thing good about this is the fact that Moxie finally sleeps soundly again. Whatever Rishad did with that opal works, and I’m really glad it does. That does not, however, change the fact that I have decided to take my sick wife out into the desert and through enemy territory, in hopes of finding a recently dead dragon!” Athaal took the pouch and put it in one of the drawers. “How does that sound for a good husband?” Perspiration and distress clear in his features and voice.         “You’re doing what you think is right, and I’m sure Moxie has no doubt about that; I assume you have informed her about the plan?” He offered.         “Yes, she agrees that it sounds like the best option for us to take.” Athaal looked at him ruefully, “How’d the trip go?” He inquired.         “It went as suspected, we now have a mixed squad of military and watanï--”         “Mixed? I didn’t tell you to do that.” The noble interjected.         “I’m well aware of that, I took the liberty of bringing a few of my friends from the watanï ranks. I know that they are good ponies, and it will be comforting for me to know that there are people with us not only doing it for the gold.” Saif reasoned.         “I guess that is reasonable enough. You gave them the same offer of payment as the military, correct?”         Saif nodded, “No, they will work for free as long as you provide them with food and water. A carriage will come by the end of the day with food and water enough for two weeks, I also arranged for a small cart, for your wife.”         “For free?” Athaal leaned back, eyes fixating on the roof, “And Arien, will he come?”         “Yes, and one of the watanï I brought along is Kazim, my old master.” Saif confirmed, knowing well why Athaal wanted Arien with them.         “Your old master?” Athaal started, “Great, he will be of great help. Then we can do nothing more than to wait till tomorrow morning to leave. You told them to meet up here at dawn, correct?” Athaal said, putting aside papers on the desk, revealing a map. Saif nodded, “Yes, they should all be here at first light, packed and ready.” The noble pointed at a mark on the map, “Here, this guard post is where we’ll spend the first night, I haven’t had time to send a message to them just yet, but I assume that they will be fine taking us in for just one night, seeing as we bring our own supplies.” Saif nodded, noting that it was near the edge of Linac territory. This meant that the first day of travel would be safe. He then drew his attention to a new spot where his brother pointed. “This is where we will make camp on the second night: the entrance to the Scar of Bak’an. The lush oasis should provide us with some food as well as the ability to stock up on water. Most importantly though, from what I’ve learned, the Linacs don’t go down there very often. We will be relatively safe except from any wildlife that might be residing there. If we find a cave, we can also make a fire so we have the ability to create some warm food.” Athaal said as he tapped on the map. Saif put his hoof on the map, “Why are we not taking this route? It might be a little more risky, but it will cut a day off our travel time.” “That area is frequently patrolled by Linacs, and it is far too close to their settlement to even consider. I’d rather take an extra day than to risk meeting a patrol with only one squad.” Athaal answered. The watanï nodded in acknowledgement. While he could take out a Linac alone if he got it by surprise, the hulk like beasts were far stronger than any pony. In a battle it would normally take three soldiers to take out one of them. Avoiding that completely would be the best option. He furrowed his brows, “Taking that other route... I see you have marked the start of the valley for camp, does that mean it will require yet another day to travel through the valley?” Athaal nodded, “Yes, I need to take into account that Moxie might not feel well. At that point, we will be able to either set camp, or continue a little longer. The trek on the day after will lead us to the other side of the valley, where we will rest regardless and prepare for the march up here...” He said as he tapped his hoof over another marked area of the map. “The intelligence I’ve gained from years of scouting missions tells me that this temple is abandoned, so that should grant us a proper resting place. We may not set up a fire there though, as it is rather close to a settlement.” Athaal bored his hoofs into his temples, “After that it will be a two day trek to the graveyard. If this map is right, we have no places to really set up camp. It will have to be out in the open, an option I am not comfortable with at all. If we are surprised by something we may need to leave fast, and I’m not sure Moxie will be able to do that.” “Another pony can move ahead with me and scout for suitable places to set up camp.” Saif offered. “That is a possibility. We also have to keep in mind that we have no information on the area between the temple and the graveyard. It will be one of the more risky places we go through.” He concluded, taking his eyes away from the map. “If all goes without a hitch, we will be performing the spell within a week from now. That being said, I hope the opal will give us some extra time.” Saif leaned over and looked at the area marked as their destination. “May I come with a suggestion?” “Feel free,” Athaal responded. Saif took a hoof to the map and pointed at the border to Equestria. “This point... it is about a four hours travel from the graveyard from what I can see, why not send a messenger to the Sun Princess and ask for permission to travel over their borders? It will save us the time and effort it would take to travel back through Linac territory. It takes no genius to figure out that your wife, and us, will be tired from the trip up there. The possibility to rest in one of their cities before we take the safe route home would be welcome.” Athaal smiled, “That’s a good idea. I will write up a letter to the princess explaining our situation, and that we will arrive at that point of the border in six days at once, together with the letter to the outpost.” He said and drew forth paper and a quill, dipped the tip in ink and began to write. “I’m pleased, is there anything else you will need of me at this time?” Saif inquired.         “No, not at the moment, you’ve been great help. Take till tomorrow off and make sure to be well rested.”         “As you wish,” He answered before leaving the office.         He quickly made way through the kitchen and into his room, then lied down on the blankets. He stared intently at the roof, thinking back to his last trip to Equestria. He would never admit so to his brother, but making it easier to travel home was just one of the reasons he suggested the trip over the borders. On his various journeys over there during his vacations, he had grown quite fond of Canterlot mares. Also, there was one in particular that had his interest. He concluded quickly that to see her again would be something he’d welcome, even if they left each other on a bad hoof last time. He shrugged away the thoughts as he caught himself brooding over it. His eyes closed and gave in to sleep’s embrace, and caught himself smiling, which was a rare occurrence. *~*~*~*~*         Moxie was awoken by a soft nudge on her shoulder. She turned over and saw Athaal smiling at her. Her mouth felt like someone had stuffed a piece of cotton in it. Her eyes attempted to focus, seeing the dark of night still ever present. From the mountain backs she saw a line of orange fire giving way for the sun.         She scrunched her brows slightly, quickly figuring out that she had been sleeping for well over a day. She could only wonder why Athaal hadn’t woken her. Whatever the reason, she did appreciate it, finally managing to catch up with her sleep. Be that as it may, it felt like her head had been hammered roughly with pieces of cloth for many hours straight, for it swam in a daze. “Do you want some water?” Athaal asked in a low voice.         She nodded, “Why didn’t you wake me before?” She murmured with a quizzical expression.         “I figured you needed the sleep, besides, making the preparations for the trip was something I managed with the help of Saif.” Athaal said before exiting the room.         Moxie stretched her hoofs, rolled over to the side of the bed, and sat up with a slight groan escaping her. She tested her numb joints before carefully stepping down to the floor. She donned the white cowl readily hanging for her next to the bed, and spotted her saddlebags packed for her on a chair. She made way to them and checked what they contained, and a smile grew over her lips.         Athaal had clearly packed it, as opposed to the maids. Inside was a red scarf gently rolled up, together with various things he apparently thought she would need. Her own bottle of water, some form of cream which she wasn’t sure where he had gotten from, eyeshade and a brush for her mane. Other than that, it was a whole survival kit inside with lots of high nutrient food and, most importantly, a chalice to drink of.         “Everything alright in the bags?” Came from a voice behind her.         She turned and met Athaal’s smile as he offered her a pouch of water. Not having the heart to tell him that he missed a few things, she simply returned the smile and took the offered water. Athaal wore his brown chitin armor, making him bulk even more in mere sight. He had taken white clothing and wrapped it around himself, starting from the neck and going back in a cape-like arrangment. On top of his head he had another piece of cloth wrapped around, with a piece of it dangling down so he easily could take it over his muzzle if sandy winds came too. Her eyes remained focused on him as she took a large gulp of the water, her cheeks flushing slightly. She had to admit; he did look handsome in his gear. Arresting herself for letting her mind wander, she took a hoof to the opal. “How’s does it look?” she asked.         “It still looks fine. Seems like it might have lost some of its glow, though. I assume that will come back to some degree when I give you the water Rishad gave us.” he quickly concluded.         Giving a sigh of relief, she ordered, “Probably. Go on out. I’ll come down in a minute.”          Athaal leaned forward and gave her a soft peck. “Alright, tell me if you need anything,” he said before leaving.         She made ready a few essential items, swirled the scarf around her neck, donned the saddlebags and tried tightening the strap that went under her stomach. She rolled her eyes slightly as she just now noticed that Athaal had given her the old set, but with her growing stomach, it would never fit. She took them off, placed them at the bed board, drew forth the other pair and strapped it on before placing all the items needed in them. She let a smile emerge as she felt the padded strap embrace her. Taking a final count over her items, she nodded in pleasure and started down the stairs. Outside, she saw the sun barely making its presence known over the horizon. A small carriage with clothing stood ready in between a bundle of saddlebags.         Near the carriage Athaal was addressing four soldiers wearing light brown scale armor and helmets. On one of their sides rested a small round shield, while the other held a sword. Around each of their crest hung a container with what she presumed was water for the trip. Like Athaal, they all had clothing over their armor, to shield from the heat and cover from the sand. The only thing setting her husband apart from the rest of the soldiers was his size, and the fact that he had one large sword attached to his side, versus a smaller one with a buckler. She recognized the one wearing a red officer plume, Arien. He had lectured Athaal in strategic warfare, and over time they had grown close, according to Athaal.         Looking at the armor once more, she found that it intrigued her in the way they were fashioned. For a short time, the military had donned leather armor. While the leather was only taken from animals that had died in battle or of sickness, the neighboring countries had taken too harsh critique when they found out. So to please the diplomatic ties that were being built, the military switched over to use the scales of scorpolids. The scales were harder and lighter than the normal leather, but more difficult to obtain as the scorpolids always buried themselves under sand when they were about to die. While the other countries still didn’t like it, they accepted it for the fact that wearing metal armor would be impossible in the heat of Saddle-Arabia. Closer to the house, Saif talked in hushed tones to three other ponies; she made a quick conclusion that they were all watanï like him. All but Saif had their sand colored hood and cape on them, while having bands around their muzzles and heads that showed nothing but their eyes. All of the watanï had the same bracelet on their right hoof, complete with a hidden blade. Saif had not taken on the hood and muzzle piece yet, and she saw the dark brown fur and the white, messy mane with a stripe of dark green in it clearly. She once again received the feeling she had seen him somewhere else. Thinking no more of it, she made to her husband, waited till he was done addressing the soldiers, and then spoke. “Dear... you didn’t tell me we were taking that many with us, and where’s the priest you said would join us?” She asked quietly. Athaal guided her towards the carriage, “We will stop by the temple to pick the priest up before we leave town.” He answered. With a little help from Athaal, she placed herself on the cart. It was designed in a simple manner, having a place for her to rest while lying down or sitting. If there was a need for it, there was a possibility to create a makeshift tent, blocking out heat or sand. At the front of it was made a place to store the bigger necessities for the trip: tents, firewood and extra water. Calling his brother over, they fastened the cart to Athaal. The ponies took the places assigned to them. The soldiers would go in front, house guards would take the back, and Saif would walk in the middle next to the cart. Seeing the preparations, Moxie felt her cheeks burn as she became aware that she would be the only pony not walking, and that everypony would be able to see her loafing around while her husband pulled her. She cleared her throat, gaining the attention of Athaal. “Do I really have to sit in this cart? I can still walk, you know.” “Are you sure?” Athaal answered. Moxie nodded, “Yes, at least let me walk till we’re out of town.”         He smiled at her and waved his hoof to his side, welcoming her to walk next to him. Her descent was clumsy, but there was nothing else to expect seeing her stomach. She made sure to place herself just behind him. Now, more than ever, they needed to adhere the social conducts of place and respect. Athaal needed to maintain the respect of his soldiers, and her acting out of her way would perhaps sour that. She did however nuzzle the back of his neck in appreciation, earning a slight shiver from him as her wet lips touched his warm fur.         He smiled barely, and tried his best to remain stoic. He shouted the order to march and they moved instantly. The sound of hoofs hitting gravel, and chitin grinding together with leather penetrated the morning stillness.         A thought struck her, and she turned to Athaal. “Why are you pulling the cart?” She inquired, knowing full well it was not a noble’s job.         “Do you really think I would let anypony else be in charge of your cart? Besides, I’m the pony that’s best built for pulling, and to bring another pony just to pull a cart would mean that we would need to bring more supplies and such.” He said with a smile drawn upon his lips.         She returned the smile and turned her focus down the brick layered path from their house. The traction and angle of the road forced Athaal to take small steps, making sure the cart did not push him into the soldiers walking in front. Once they reached the bottom, the temple was no more than a few blocks away. From this distance, she saw that a few hooded figures were waiting for them in front of the grey towers that pierced the sky. She wondered, perhaps it was an attempt to come closer to what they perceived as the greatness of Eran, or perhaps they wanted the temple to stand above all other buildings. It was a question not even Rishad could answer, for it was built long ago. Long before the plague, and long before they began to record history within the temple.         The temple was the gathering place for the biggest faith following in Saddle-Arabia. It was also the place where she and Athaal had been joined together as husband and wife. Approaching the structure woke both good and bad feelings within her. The wedding itself had not been happy, and forced upon both of them. The actions of her father had made it all worse. Casting a quick glance at Athaal, she smiled. It had turned out fine in the end, and all in all she wished it no other way, even if the path to this point had been covered with pain and trouble. Still, it was not over.         At the front gate, they saw Rishad talking intently to an acolyte and then giving the purple scarf that followed the lead priest of the temple. As they came closer, he took notice of them and bowed gently. Next to him on the ground there were multiple bags made ready.         They stopped and Athaal looked at the door which the other pony had vanished through. “Was that the acolyte you said you’d have ready for the trip, Rishad?” He inquired.         Rishad’s gaze rested upon Moxie’s form, dark circles clear underneath his eyes.  The gaze lingered only for a few seconds before he broke it.         “Oh, the old fool that I am had completely forgotten that the spell would take days for an acolyte to learn, and since there are no other priests that could do the spell, that only leaves the option for me to join in.”         Moxie opened her mouth to protest, then bit her tongue and gave Athaal a rather sharp nudge to the side. The young noble let off a surprised gasp, and looked confused at her angry stare. She motioned towards Rishad, and shook her head. She knew the priest meant well, but their path was too perilous for someone in his age to join in. And if something happened to him…she shuddered with just the thought of it.         Athaal nodded and turned to the priest. “We’re going through Linac territory, and the heat of the desert will be too much for you, are you sure you have nopony else to go in your stead?” he said, and bowed his head deeply to ensure no insult was intended.         Rishad smiled warmly at their concern, “Do not worry, Athaal of Ghazath. I have more endurance than you’d think. I can assure you, I’ll be fine. Eran will protect me as I do this task.” He reassured and made way to the carriage, “May I put my bags on this? I’m not going to lie, lesser weight will make it easier to walk.”         Athaal nodded, then looked apologetically at her, they both knew they had no say in the matter now. Only the king could go against the decision of the high priest. Even then, it would not always fall in good earth.         Walking away, she cast one look back and froze. Acolytes gathered in front of the gate, all doing the same motions. They were marking them all with the blessing of Eran by drawing the eye in front of them, moving their hoofs in an oval circle and setting a smaller circle within it. Underneath the hood of the one now donning the purple scarf of the head priest, a dark stare was set at her. She barely saw the ice blue eyes within the shadow. A shudder went down her spine as if a winter wind swept over her. Whatever it was, she felt chilled to the bone. She took a deep breath, forcing herself to calm down as her temples thundered in her skull. The acolytes began to withdraw to the church, and she cast one final glance before she made haste to catch up to Athaal whom stood waiting for her. She swallowed. If she ever believed in superstitions, she would be sure that was a bad omen.         The quickest way out of town, and closest exit to their destination, made them go through the merchant quarter and passing at the edge of the common district. This excited her more than she liked to admit. The Fayah residence was located at one of the hills overlooking the merchant quarter, along with most of the common places. As a filly, she had often spent the time she had away from her studies on a balcony facing towards those areas. She had however, never been allowed to take a closer look. It was uncouth for a noble foal to mingle and befriend peasants.         They took a right down the road from the temple, entering the quarter. A smile drew itself over her lips as she noticed a few merchants shift slightly in their chairs as Athaal passed them, while a selected few waved at them. She was often down here to shop for ingredients for dinner, or just taking a stroll to see if she could get something new to the house. The newfound respect she had gained with the marriage to the Ghazath family made any activity more pleasant. While they still looked upon her gimpy wing, they never mentioned it like they did before. They rather hid away from her, knowing that her rank was higher than them as long as she held the bracelet of Ghazath on her.         As they passed where the road came close to the common quarters, Moxie let her eyes wander. She stared in fascination at how small and compact the houses were compared to what she was used too. Instead of stones on the ground, the roads were just pressured sand, leaving dust to be whirled up as ponies walked over. She also eyed foals running between the houses, laughing loudly as they either fell over each other, or tossed water between them from the scarce puddles that was left from rain or cleaning. At first Moxie felt sorry for them to live in such conditions, but she also saw how happy most of them were, just focusing on keeping what they had together.         A set of guards waited for them at the city gate, spearheaded by a black stallion. Athaal unhinged himself from the cart and made to the front of the guards in his own crew. Moxie felt her heart sink in her chest as she recognized her father in front.         “Ghalib, what is the meaning of this?” Athaal inquired.         “You will not take my daughter out of this city, Athaal, I will place you under arrest if needed.” Ghalib stated.         “It’s not something I want to do, but we must bring Moxie up there.” Athaal retorted.         “Do you really think taking her through Linac territory will do any good?” Ghalib stomped his hoof into the ground, “You will be killed before you’re halfway. This is for your own good.”         The young noble stepped forward, “You’re the one who proposed this trip. We need to do this. I know it’s risky, but there’s no other way!”         “Not with my daughter!” Ghalib did a sweeping motion with hoof, “Guards, he will not pass until he leaves my daughter here.”         Seeing the guards behind her father exchange confused glances, and Saif stepping up to his brother, Moxie quickly took the place next to Athaal. She swallowed, feeling the eyes of the ponies nearby watching the scene. For once, she did not care what anypony thought. If she was to be bound by conducts and the whim of others, she might as well let her life be forfeit. She was not ready to do that; not for anypony. It was her life they were arguing about, and she of all ponies had a right to say what was best.         “Father, stop it!” Moxie bellowed.         In that instant, as if time stood still, all eyes were on her. The guards they had hired muttered nervously between themselves, and the ones at the gate had their spears halfway down, looking at bewilderment at the pregnant mare who purposely interrupted a discussion amongst noble stallions. Ghalib scowled at her, joined in by many other bystanders. She felt her body shiver with a mix of anger and resentment. While the eyes judged her, she took a deep breath and exhaled. Her eyes never moved from her father’s. She waited, as did all. Her heart beat strongly within her chest, and her body rose in temperature. There was no going back; not now.         Ghalib leaned forward and hissed, “Moxie, I have taught you better than this, you do not interject when stallions are talking.”         She shook her head, “I can’t sit idly by watching you discuss my life!”         “The subject of the discussion does not matter, Moxie.” Ghalib answered quickly in an attempt to dismiss her.         “It does, and it should also matter to you. I’m your daughter. My life should mean more to you than some stupid social rule!” She shouted, once more feeling the judgment of those nearby upon her, yet her eyes never broke contact with Ghalib.         “That’s why I’m trying to stop--”         “No! You’re not!” She interrupted, “You’re trying to force your way, as all other times. What would mother say if she saw you now? I trust Athaal with my life, I trust that he has made the best possible decision for the both of us, he would not take me out of the city unless he thought it absolutely necessary. Mother said you chose Athaal to marry me for a reason, so trust the decision you made together with her back then. Your way is not always the best. Please, you have to realize that and let us go...let me go. I’m not your little filly anymore; I’m soon to be a mother, and you a grandfather.” Moxie said, feeling her voice was at a breaking point, struggling to keep her emotions in control. She knew the foal was a bitter point for him, he had avoided all conversations about it ever since he was given the names. She saw how he furrowed his brows towards her, anger rising in his eyes.         “If I may say something,” came from Rishad as he approached them.         “Rishad?” Ghalib said as anger slowly got replaced by confusion. “What are you doing here?”         “I’m joining them up to the graveyard to perform the spell there.” The priest answered calmly.         Ghalib’s eyes grew wide. “Are you sure? There’s no going back from this, Rishad.” Pointing his hoof forward to make a point.         Rishad nodded, “Yes. I’m aware that it might sound risky, but I too think that this is the best course of action.” He placed a hoof on Moxie’s back, “Having Moxie stay behind would only secure the sickness free reign over her mind and body, this way I will be able to attend to her as we travel, and we will be able to cure her within a week.”         “You would be able to do that here as well.” Ghalib reasoned.         “Indeed I would, but that still leaves us with the time limit, Ghalib. Just my magic is not enough to battle this disease.” Rishad stated.         Ghalib gazed at her, then to the priest and Athaal, and finally between the murmurs of the ponies walking around them. They could almost hear his mind working to find another way. The silence was broken by an audible sigh from him, he looked ruefully at her with ears flopped back. “Very well...” he waved a dismissive hoof at the guards. “let them pass.”         She smiled and embraced him, “Thank you,” she said and kissed his cheek, “I’ll be safe, I promise.”         Her father shook his head, “Don’t make promises you can’t keep, it is a dangerous journey.” He said harshly as he stepped to the side, “No matter what you think of my ways, or if you have agreed with the traditions I follow, you’re still my little princess...I don’t know what I would do if anything happened to you, nor would your mother.” He said in a hushed tone, making sure no one else heard.         She smiled and felt her heart swell up. It had been a long time she had seen her father show any affection towards her. Her only wish was that it was under different circumstances.         Athaal nudged her softly on the side, “We need to go if we’re to reach the camp before night.”         Moxie nodded and turned to Ghalib again. “Don’t worry, Father, I will be back in a couple of weeks.” She said and bowed deeply to him for the first time since the announcement of her wedding.         Ghalib smiled, “I’ll wait here for you then.” Turning to Athaal he said. “If anything happens to her I will have your head on a spear, understood?”         “I welcome you to try, old stallion.” Saif stated, his muscles unmoving and eyes showing only detached emotions.         “Saif!” Athaal hissed, “Stand down!” He helped Moxie onto the carriage and turned to Ghalib. “You have my word that I will do all that I can to bring her back home safely, Ghalib.”         Seemingly satisfied, Ghalib approached the carriage and placed a hoof on Moxie’s. “Come see me as soon as you have returned, promise?”         “Promise,” She answered. Athaal put himself in the binds of the carriage again and the group moved out through the gates and into the desert. She took a glance back and saw Ghalib watching them leave, growing smaller and smaller till he was completely gone through the masses. She sighed and felt a sudden pang of regret. Perhaps she had been too hard on Ghalib? The watanï walked behind the cart in a square formation, at her right side, Saif was walking and gave her a short nod as she looked at him. On her left, Rishad followed the slow pace the traveling squad had taken to in the heat. While the monsoon season was coming soon, the heat was still blistering. The orange sand burned and critters remained in the shadows, burying themselves in deep underneath to cool off. If she looked at the horizon in front of her, she could see how everything distorted within the heat, creating mirages and cluttering the air itself. She glanced up quickly at the sun rising above the mountain, climbing to reach its treacherous peak. Just now she felt how confronting her father had taken its toll on her mentally. Her body, heart and mind all calmed down, drooping into an exhausted serenity. Perhaps she would take effort in mending the relationship with Ghalib once they returned home? She sighed and took a large sip of water, feeling the liquid cool her insides as it traveled down her throat. Thankful that the cart tent was easily put up, she closed her eyes and relaxed to the rocking motions as they traveled forward. Hours of wandering followed. Nothing was to be seen, but the orange sand and critters skittering away as they moved past them. They had also passed a few wandering merchants, allowing them to buy a little more water so they could afford to drink more as they wanted instead of supplying it. For Rishad and Moxie, this helped a great deal. When the sun stood on its highest peak, they had reached the enormous mountain called Tooth of Wah’sh, the halfway mark. They quickly set up a makeshift tent so they all could rest in the shadow. Rishad gave out small packages containing a carefully made meal, rich in nutrients and energy. As they ate the soldiers settled down into small chatter about previous missions or stories about how they had withstood attacks from the Linacs and survived, also boasting about mares they had been with in different cities. While the houseguards remained mostly silent, or they spoke of tactics. Athaal and Rishad sat with Moxie and discussed how they would further progress. After some vocal objections from Rishad and Athaal, they finally agreed to let the priest ride the cart for a while. Athaal had suggested to pull both of them, but the idea was quickly shot down because of the strain it would put on him. And while he denied it, they all could see how the sweat pushed through his fur, any more and he might become dehydrated. As they began to pack and make ready to take on the last bit of travel to reach the guard post, she decided to take a last look at the mountain. It stood like a black and red wall on the red carpet of sand, reaching high enough to almost slice through the clouds drifting by it. The mountain stretched backwards farther than she could see. Old tales told that the mountain was the remains of a giant that roamed the land in ancient times. The giant took too much of the planet to himself, so the gods decided to join together and end its life, giving room for other species to evolve. From this place ponies as a race had begun, and slowly divided into tribes and sub races. As soon as Luna and Celestia made their presence known, the ponies split; those that wished to follow Eran, and those who followed the alicorns, eventually founding the two biggest pony countries. Athaal shouted at her, signaling that they were ready to go. She took on the white cowl and took place next to her husband. The remaining distance was traversed without any interruptions. They saw how the land slowly turned into a lusher environment. Rocks were replaced with palms and bushes with berries on them. The sandy roads shifted to a cobbled path. Reaching afternoon, winds began to blow, giving a relief from the scorching heat. They passed small gathering of trees, and at times small watering holes, judging from the amount of animals seen around it. They reached the guard post just before dark. It was a small settlement with tents surrounded by spiked wooden poles in a large confined area. It had a large bonfire at the center where those stationed there gathered at evenings to share a meal. One of the guards standing in front of the gate stopped them. After Athaal quickly surmised their intention and that he had sent a courier with a letter in advance, the guard let them pass and ordered one of the soldiers to guide them to the tent of the commander. Athaal unhinged the carriage and told the squad to begin setting up their tents and prepare a warm soup while him and Moxie were talking to the commander. Soldiers looked briefly at them as they passed but paid no more attention to them. They entered a large brown tent and the stallion that lead them bowed quickly and returned to the fireplace.           Behind a large white desk a large stallion sat, looking at them with a set of blue eyes. His neck showed strong muscles under the light brown fur, and his jawline was broad. His jet black mane was tied in a braid, falling down to his side. Several scars over his shoulders and neck were visible. On his desk rested a helm glazed with scars of battle, the purple stripe of hair on top of it was tattered, thinning in many places.         With a grumbly voice, the commander spoke. “Welcome to my camp. Please, have a seat.” He suggested and bowed.         Athaal sat down first on a pillow, and indicated for Moxie to sit down next to him. Taking a quick glance around again, she decided to sit down as close to him as possible. The atmosphere made her uneasy. Swords hung from racks with metal gleaming in the flicker of light from candles. On the floor lay a huge bulky armor far too big for a pony, golden in color with a crimson hole in it.         Seemingly satisfied, the commander smiled. “The name is Mun’taz, and you do me great honor with your visit. I’ve made all the preparations you asked for in the letter to the best of what I could. I hope that is satisfactory.”         “Excellent, as long as we have a place to set up our tents and fill up on water we’re happy.” Athaal answered.         “I’ve arranged for you to set camp at the far end of the settlement, near the well, so refilling water will be no issue.” Mun’taz answered, he then turned his gaze to Moxie. “May I offer you anything to eat? You would do me a great honor if you shared a meal with me.”         She took a deep breath, uncertain if the question was directed to her or not. She was afraid to speak out of place. The intense eyes and brash manner of Mun’taz scared her, and she could only imagine what scene needed to unfold to give a stallion as this one such scars. It was not for her to turn down an invitation from a stallion of rank; it was all up to Athaal. Her mind remained frozen, unable to respond. She shuddered, feeling the fatigue of the day’s trip slowly creep over her.         Athaal looked at her and softly stroked her back. “I would gladly join you for a meal, Mun’taz, but I’m afraid that my wife will not. As I explained in the letter, she is sick and her health will take priority.” He explained.         Mun’taz nodded, “Understood. I will only prepare for one guest tonight.” He then rose and made way to the entrance of the tent. “I assume you and your wife wish to retreat to your tent for now?”         Athaal rose and offered a hoof to Moxie, she took it and rose. He turned to Mun’taz, “That would make us very happy. I will join you later on after I have made sure everyone in my crew is ready to travel tomorrow at sunrise.”         The large stallion bowed and held the entrance open for them. They exited and were met with a complete blackness. As soon as their eyes adjusted, they started for the far end of the camp. Every tent needed to be put up, even their own. Near the well the guards had made a small fireplace and were making a vegetable soup with nicamroots. This root was taken with them specifically due to its high nutrient value. It made one full for a long time and gave energy throughout the day. In this case, it would replenish the energy they had spent on travel.         Rishad spotted them from his place around the kettle and made his way towards them. “What did the commander say?” Rishad inquired.         “He just wanted to wish us welcome, and invite me and Moxie to a dinner with him, for the usual honor boasting and such.” Athaal responded with a labored voice.         The priest chuckled, “From the tone of your voice, I assume you’re not too fond of these things.” then his expression turned grim and he turned to Moxie. “The opal is glowing weaker, you need to take a dose of the serum right about now.”         Moxie nodded, “I know. The bottle is in one of my saddlebags.”         Rishad placed a hoof on her shoulder, “I must warn you, the effects of taking this serum can be rather violent... and painful.”         She swallowed, “I suspected as much.”         “I won’t leave for the dinner until you have fallen asleep, Moxie.” Athaal comforted.         “Thank you...” she responded with a slight smile. “could you excuse us, Rishad? I’m exhausted.”         “Of course, I will place some soup for you to eat once you wake up.” He responded before trailing off to the fire again.         Relief washed over her as they entered their tent, each step she took felt like it was depleting her energy. Near the center, they saw Saif readying a makeshift bed out of pillows and leaves he had taken from outside. He quickly stepped to the side and let her lie down.         Moxie sighed, “Thank you, Saif, this is much appreciated.” she said softly.         Saif bowed, “All in your best interest, my Lady.”         Athaal took a hoof to his brother’s shoulder, “Thank you, now make sure that everyone is aware that we need to go tomorrow morning, at sunrise.”         The watanï made way outside and responded. “Very well.”         Athaal placed a blanket next to the bed and smiled at her before he made way to her saddlebag that had been placed in the corner of the dark tent together with the supplies that needed shade to stay fresh. He fidgeted slightly with the lock on the bag, swore silently and tried to calm himself down. Eventually he managed to open it and drew forth the chalice together with the locket containing the serum. He opened the small locket and gasped slightly as a brilliant blue glow embraced the room from within it. Regaining his focus again he walked over to her and sat down.  “I can’t say I’m very fond of the idea of this serum…” He said as he lifted up the vial.         Moxie nodded, “Neither am I, but the other option is less favorable.” she said in a sullen voice.         He carefully poured some of the strange content into the chalice, and mixed it with water, then gave it to her. She looked at the blue glowing liquid that swirled around reflecting ripples across her features. Taking a deep breath, she emptied it and swallowed. Almost instantly, her body threatened to rid itself off it. As it ran down her throat it felt like it expanded, adding its disgusting flavor at each spot it passed. She quickly took a hoof over her muzzle, and started to cough violently. She felt Athaal take hold of her and placed her on his lap while letting his hoofs cradle her.         They sat like that for a short while before she felt heat glow from her stomach, an almost burning sensation. It was a comforting at first, but as it spread to the tips of her limbs it felt like she had a sun inside of her, making her writhe in pain. From her folded ears she felt the sweat begin to drop. As quickly as the heat came, it vanished, leaving her shivering from cold. Then, like a bolt of lightning striking her, she felt immense pain running down her spine and her body began to shake violently and uncontrollably. Her jaw clenched shut with enough force that she heard her teeth crack.         Athaal rocked her back and forth, whispering in a meek voice. “Moxie, Moxie, Moxie, hold on... it will pass in a moment, just a little bit longer.”         The storm in her body vanished, the shakes stopped and got replaced with a calming wave of heat. As her eyes slowly closed, she saw the room fill itself with a blue light once more, this time from the gem on her forehead. Then the world faded as she rested in the lap of her husband.         Athaal exited the tent, feeling the unease slowly letting go of its grasp on him. Rishad had prepared him to apply the drink, but the violence of it made him feel physically ill. He took a deep breath and felt a hoof land on his shoulders.         “I know it may seem harsh, and it is tough on you, but it is for the best, believe me on that.” Comforted Rishad with a careful smile splitting his large beard.         He sighed, “I know... it’s just... it hurts me to see her like that. There must be another way to give the opal energy.” Athaal inquired.         Rishad shook his head, “I’m afraid not, the opal draws its energy from within her, therefore the refill must come from there.”         “How long --”         “Mun’taz requests your presence in his tent to share a meal.” Interrupted one of the post guards.         Athaal bowed, “Tell him that I will honor his wish.” Turning to Rishad and Saif, he said. “Look after her for me, will you?”         Saif raised his hoof and held it over his crest, “With my life, brother.”         Rishad in turn raised a brow at Saif. “Now, now, we’re amongst friends, Saif, calm down.” He said calmly.         Seeing his brother stumbled by the straightforward comment from the priest, Athaal interjected. “Just guard the entrance, Saif. Rishad, if you could, go into the tent and make sure nothing happens to her.”         They both bowed and headed for the tent. Athaal shrugged and headed towards the commander’s tent. These honor pampering sessions always bored him, most of the time the commander would sit and flaunt at his ability in battle; and if his second in command was there as well, he would also boast some. If he was lucky, this commander would be more interested in helping him forward than to try to improve his political position. Some information about the residing Linacs would be welcome as they behaved differently according to the time of the year.         He bowed slightly to the guard and stepped inside the tent. The table in front of him was ladened with exotic meals, far too exotic for an outpost, in his opinion. Amongst it was zap apple juice from Equestria, known for its shining rainbow color. Creamed hay from the dock town Manesail, and spiced apple from Ma’galag. He would inquire about where he had gotten hold of this food, but his situation did not allow it at this moment.         Mun’taz greeted him with a crooked smile, “Welcome. Please, have a seat. Take what you want from the table.”         Athaal sat down on the offered pillow and took hold of a spiced apple. “Thank you, you do me great honor.”         The commander bellowed a laugh. “I could say the same about you, Ghazath. Your rise in power in the Council and control over the Borderguild has become quite a fable in Saddle-Arabia, to be so young and get that much power, surely some of it is your father’s work?”         He smiled in response and hid a sigh, he now knew where this conversation was headed.         Mun’taz continued, “I myself have had proficient success in the military with my--”         Athaal held up a hoof, “I don’t mean to insult your honor, but matters of politics is not something I concentrate on now. My wife is sick, and has been for some time, and I’m tired.” He poured himself a glass of juice and drank it. “So please, let us just enjoy a meal. If anything, I would like to hear about the current Linac movements between here and the Scar of Bak’an.”         Mun’taz chewed slowly on some hay while looking heavenwards, almost as he was judging if he was insulted or not. He then swallowed and looked at the noble. “If you insist. The Linac tribe nearby have become increasingly aggressive. We’re not sure, but we think it has something to do with a few younger males coming of age. Around that time they need to prove themselves great hunters and bring home heads of their enemy, a pegasus being a great trophy at that. Because of that, their patrols are unstable. They have the regular ones, which we keep control of. But lately it has also become some small bands going outside of their usual area in search for us, or a scorpolid matron.”         Athaal sat back and looked at the map hanging behind the commander, “So there’s no pattern at all?”         “I’m afraid not, not that we can tell at least.” Mun’taz leaned forward, “You’ve got to ask yourself, is she really worth the risk?”         Athaal looked at him with a raised brow, “I would choose my next words very carefully if I were you, Mun’taz...” He stated plainly, his muscles tensing up and his eyes turning cold.         “I’m just offering my thoughts,” Mun’taz explained. “You’re young; you can remarry. You have been with her for a little over a year now? It just seems foolish to risk the lives of a whole squad for one mare. Especially with the Linacs being aggressive.” Athaal felt his iris rings begin to burn as they went from dull gray to a jet black. “I’ll tolerate that thought only because we are staying in your camp,” he rose and made way towards the door. “but I have no more to say to you, and you would do wise to stay clear of anypony in my crew.” He said, forcing himself to get out before his rising anger would make him say, or do anything he would regret later.         “Think about it, Athaal, that’s all I’m telling you.” Came from Mun’taz as the blinds closed behind him.         He quickly crossed the camp towards the place where his group was, meeting more than one curious glance on his path. He had perhaps cut some bonds with Mun’taz now, but he could not care less. If anything, he would make sure the commander would be taken away from his position and imprisoned for corruption; the food alone was enough evidence. As he approached his own tent, Saif stood up and greeted him.         “What has you so angry, brother?” he inquired.         Athaal took a deep breath, “Nothing you need to worry about… is everypony ready to leave at first light?” Athaal asked.         “Yes, we have taken all the supplies we are not using and put it in the saddlebags.” Saif squinted his eyes, “What happened during that dinner? It was incredibly short.”         “Just drop it!” He snapped.         Saif raised his hoof in mock defense, “Alright, alright, but I think you need to calm down, your eyes are black like the deepest pits.”         The door to the tent opened and Rishad stepped out, “I thought it wouldn’t be necessary to tell you to keep your voice down, Athaal.” He said         He took a hoof to his temple, “You’re right, sorry… how is she?”         Rishad smiled, “She’s doing fine, still sleeping, even with the… noise.” The priest placed a hoof on Athaal’s shoulder. “Stand still…” He ordered as his horn shone brightly.         A golden moving layer traveled from the horn and down his hoof, and made the leap over to Athaal. The golden shield that slowly formed over him glowed with a soothing pulse. As it completely enveloped him, he felt it pressuring down on him, hugging him slightly. His emotions stilled like raging water after a storm, giving him an almost euphoric state of mind; and the burning sensation in his eyes vanished.         “There,” Rishad said as he retracted his hoof, “I can’t allow you to go to her riled up like you were.”         The noble blinked, “Amazing… what did you do?”         The old pony chuckled, “I’ve told you, the magic of Eran are no trifle tricks. Now, I think we all need the rest we can get. Let’s put today’s events behind us.”         He nodded and silently went into the tent, took off his armor, placed it next to the saddlebags and nestled in next to Moxie. He pulled a blanket over them and smiled as his wife let go of a short snore. He ran his hoof down her mane, pulling back the strands of hair fallen down over her muzzle. Seeing the opal pulse, he sighed. He let his hoof wander down her chest and stopped at her stomach, where he let it rest.         He leaned close to her and kissed her nose softly before whispering, “I would sacrifice anything for you...” He closed his eyes and let sleep take its grasp. *~*~*~*~*         Trixie embraced her blue star spangled wizard hat with a magenta glow and placed it on her cart. She twisted her mane, forcing the water out of it. The light blue color glistened in the morning sun. She stretched it so it held its normal pointed form. Her violet eyes wandered over the cart which had been scribbled down while the rest had tossed her in the lake. With a sigh she took off her cape and let the sun bathe her azure coat.         Perhaps turning that stallion’s fur into grass wasn’t the best idea, but it was his own fault for having wandering eyes. Like always, the other ponies did not wish to see her side of it.         She went behind the brown carriage and opened a green hatch. She was surprisingly pleased the ponies had not touched the inside, and quickly located her brush and a map. She absently stroked the brush on her tail while she jotted down a red cross over Fillydelphia. She snarled slightly, she had now been through every city near Canterlot, and nopony had yet appreciated her magic. Tapping a hoof on the edge of the map, she nodded before rolling it together and placed it in the cart again.         She took out a salad and began to chew. The only place left for her to visit in the Equestrian kingdom was Manesail, and the fastest way there would be through a small part of the Saddle-Arabian desert. She had heard some things about that place, but concluded that she would just awe her way out of any conflict that would arise. Furthermore, cutting down two days of travel would be worth it. She swallowed her food and strapped herself to the cart, and it would be two days earlier that she could dazzle the Manesail residents with her spectacular magic. Surely they would never have seen such magic, since she had never been there before.         With a mad cackle, she started down the road, bidding farewell with the city and set eyes on the borders of Saddle-Arabia.