//------------------------------// // 40. Hardheaded - Part 1 // Story: BPT: A Midnight Stroll through Time // by Wolven5 //------------------------------// A cloaked figure walked through a desert landscape. The sun shone a blistering heat but his cloak warded against intense temperatures and was also charmed to maintain a comfortable temperature to its wearer. He had no idea where or when he was, but since he’d left during a sunset, he probably hadn’t gotten far along the timeline. At the moment, he just didn’t care. He’d spent an entire year in the same time and place, had been rewarded with a beautiful daughter for his patience, only for fate most cruel to whisk him away and miss his daughter’s entire foalhood, her growing up, her getting married, having children. Living her life. He’d cried till he just couldn’t cry no more, and so wandered this barren landscape without a real destination in mind. The sun was at its peak so it would be hours before sunset and moonrise. He would just have to wait to see the phase of the moon. If it was full or at least waxing, he’d be making another time-jump. If it was waning, he’d go anyway and just hope he’d arrive at a time where the moon was closer to being full. As he walked, while he wasn’t hot per se, he was getting thirsty, and in his emotional turmoil had forgotten to fill up his canteen with water. Looking around, he saw only distant rocks, a mesa here or there, and a few mountains. No signs of an oasis, and there wasn’t a cloud in the sky. Sighing, he whispered, “Cardina Directa…” His horn glowed and a tugging sensation made Midnight turn a certain direction until the sensation stopped, and he knew the direction was north. He was glad he’d learned so many spells from Twilight and Sombra, but he still needed to have a better idea of his location. He brought out his pega-goggles and took on his lunar pegasus form. He flexed his leathery wings, re-familiarizing himself with them, before he took flight with a mighty flap! He flapped and flapped, rising higher and higher, until he had a better look of the lands around him. To the north he saw mountains at the very edge of the horizon whereas to the west he saw the ocean. He snubbed it, he’d had enough of the ocean to last him a very long time. So he turned to the east and saw more mountains but they were much closer, and his pegasus vision enabled him to see the reflection of the sun upon a distant winding river. His thirst helped him make up his mind and so he flew east. However, being so high in the sky beneath a desert sun was not a good idea, for even with his cloak’s ward against extreme temperature, it did not protect his head from the searing glare of the sun. The skyward winds made trying to protect his head from the sun with his hood pointless as it continued to blow his hood down. Sighing in defeat, Midnight glided downwards but he noticed a rising column of smoke not too far ahead. He was much closer to the mountain which stood north of the mesas and buttes, and so walked. With every step, he focused on the path towards the column of smoke. It wasn’t thick or dark enough to come from a brushfire or such. Its thinness hinted it to be a campfire, which he confirmed to be so as he came up a rising dune. Looking down, he spied, at the foot of the mountain, a camp of minotaurs! Various tents arranged in a circle, a great campfire in the center, ringed with several minotaurs and minotauresses and their calves. He heard the pounding of hammers on metal, the grunts and yells of spars, but what drew his attention was the biggest minotaur among them apparently having a meeting with his people. Curiosity spurred him as Midnight approached the camp to listen in on what this minotaur was saying. He situated himself by a tent and looked at the minotaurs who listened to their apparent leader. He was easily the tallest, strongest, and fiercest looking among them, with muscles that looked as though they could strangle a manticore, horns long and sharp, his hair bound back, his fur black like obsidian. He wore a pteruges apron around his waist, a fearsome breastplate that only served to show off his musculature. His brawny arms bore scars of past battles, and his nose was pierced with a metal bull’s ring. “…by honor, my brothers and sisters, we are bound to avenge our fallen! This demon has stolen from us four great warriors, all of whom I would gladly give my life for! By the gods, we will not allow this crime against our tribe to unpunished and the gorgon shall suffer our wrath!” Some of the minotaurs cheered while others whispered in doubt. Among them, a hand raised, belonging to what appeared to be a teenaged minotaur. He wasn’t as tall or as brawny as the other males, wore only a loincloth and a leather strap across his torso, hanging from his left shoulder and resting on the opposite hip. His fur was pale brown while his hair was a mop of messy dark gold, his horns short, and his manner hesitant. “…But father! I agree we must avenge our fallen brothers, but… Simply charging this monster will only lead to more victims, we must try for a strategy!” “And what would you have us do, my son?” the minotaur sneered. “Hide like frightened cows before the butcher?!” “But father-” “Silence, boy!” The minotaur pointed a halberd at his own son, the tribe hushing at this family quarrel. “If you ever expect to lead this tribe one day, you must show me you are a warrior, not a calf still pining for his mother’s milk!” “Earth Fury,” one of the minotauresses spoke up, “please. Perhaps young Blazing Spirit is right. How many more of our sons and husbands and brothers and fathers must we sacrifice in order to destroy this wretched demon? How many more must be lost before we regain our honor?” “And what exactly is this wretched demon that has claimed four of your own?” The whole tribe jolted and turned to see Midnight, who had stepped out from behind the tent and looked back in simple regarding. The tribal chief, Earth Fury, snorted as he stepped up towards Midnight, his halberd bared menacingly, as he said, “A unicorn! Rather unusual to see one of your soft kind so far away from your luxurious castles and such? What brings you out so far into San Palomino Desert?” “Just a weary traveler looking to slake his thirst,” Midnight answered nonchalantly. “Ha, just like a panzy unicorn,” Earth Fury scoffed derisively, “to trek so hazardous a land as the barren desert without being properly prepared.” “Just like a bull-headed beef-brain to think any problem can be solved by hitting it,” retorted Midnight, Earth Fury pointing his halberd as he snorted. “Wha’d you say?!” “Father, please!” Blazing Spirit got between the two of them, saying, “Our quarrel is with the gorgon, not this pony!” “Huh, fine,” Earth Fury scoffed but he pointed a finger at Midnight in an intimidating way before he stomped off to his tent. Blazing Spirit faced Midnight, saying, “Please forgive my father, he can be… difficult.” “Something tells me ‘difficult’ is putting it mildly,” Midnight replied dryly. Clearing his throat, he politely said, “My name is Midnight Blaze, and, if you don’t mind, what seems to be the problem?” Blazing Spirit sighed as he looked to his tribe, as they dispersed and went back to their own tasks and chores. “We’re a tribe of nomadic merchants and warriors. We make a living by crafting our wares and selling them, or occasionally we find work as mercenaries but only for causes we ourselves deem honorable. We hale from the lands south of Macintosh Hills and we were on our way to a seaside town that’s recently become rich with commerce but as we passed through this way, we chanced upon… a Gorgon!” “That’s a monster that turns you to stone if you meet its gaze, right?” Midnight fished, Blazing Spirit nodding sadly. “The Gorgon claims this is her territory and we’re trespassers. She made an example of four of our warriors by turning them to stone and then presenting their petrified bodies like warning signs! Our honor demands we repay her with the same mercilessness as she showed us!” “But…?” Midnight prompted. “But how can you fight something that turns you to stone if you look at it?!” Blazing Spirit sighed woefully. “I’ve tried talking to my father of putting our tribe’s safety first but he’s so set in our ways and traditions that he’s about to leave unless we reclaim our honor by slaying the Gorgon! Not that he’s ever listened to me before…” “Yeah, I kinda noticed the way he talked to you,” Midnight noted gingerly. “Is it a bad thing to win battles with your head instead of your muscle?” Blazing Spirit asked rhetorically. “I wanna be a warrior my father can be proud of but I want to be my own kind of warrior, not his.” “That’s respectable,” Midnight assured, “and I commend you for wanting to choose your own path, not one your father would have you walk just to please him.” “Thanks… Well, would you like some water?” Blazing Spirit gestured Midnight to follow him. Midnight did so and he was led to, much to his relief, an oasis that was hidden between three small buttes. He saw there were a few other minotaurs here, gathering water or just enjoying the pleasant spot of life amongst a sea of sandy death. He watched as Blazing Spirit took a waterskin, filled it up, and kindly offered it to Midnight. Subtly casting a purifying spell on it, he accepted the skin and drank to his heart’s content. Sighing in satisfaction, Midnight looked at Blazing Spirit, whose gaze rested upon the oasis but not really looking at it. Midnight had seen that look before and wondered, “What’s on your mind?” “I don’t want to trouble you, it’s really not for you to concern yourself with,” Blazing Spirit said lamely. “Look, I’ve dealt with my share of authority figures with high expectations of me,” Midnight pressed. “If you don’t wanna share, that’s fine but you look like you need somepony to lend you an ear.” “…As you might’ve heard, I’m supposed to succeed my father as tribal chief one day,” Blazing Spirit nodded. “The problem is, he doesn’t think I’m worthy. He cares for me, of course but… He doesn’t think very highly of me.” “And you want to change his mind,” Midnight gathered. “Yes… and I know just the way to do it,” Blazing Spirit’s brows furrowed. “You want to slay the gorgon,” Midnight smirked. “Doing so would avenge our petrified brothers, restore our tribal honor,” Blazing Spirit confirmed, “and yes… it would make my father see me in a whole new way.” “And just how do you expect to defeat a creature whose very gaze leaves you her permanently captured audience?” Midnight’s brow rose in query. Blazing Spirit raised a forefinger, paused, and sighed, “I have no idea.” “Well, tell you what,” Midnight offered, “I’m not actually in a hurry to get anywhere, and I could do with a distraction. Let me consult one of my books, and I’ll speak with you later.”