The Mark of Eran

by Tofazz


Chapter 6 - Ra'am Barak

Ra’am Barak

Athaal offered Trixie some water before he sat down next to her bed. The azure mare looked around the room with skepticism as she gulped down the contents of the cup. Behind Athaal, Saif sat quietly, watching intently as they went through some questions. It had taken Saif the whole night to calm her down, and, finally, after they had gained some sleep, he could get the answers he longed for. He knew that he had to operate carefully, for he was sure her mind was fragile still.

A thunderstorm had crossed over the valley. While they were protected from the harshest winds, the high rock walls acted like a funnel, sending a focused gust through and easily knocking anypony over if unprepared. And the small trickling rivers had quickly turned into large powerful ones, forcing them to move several tents. Each lighting strike flashing over the sky lit the outside up in a horrific light. Each tree looking like a twisted abomination, and the leaves seeking to hide any danger from them. Between the rolling thunders they heard the shrieks of the flying lizards Athaal had spotted, the still unidentified sound tore through their spine like the sharpest knife. The soldiers, along with Arien, became weary and skeptical of traveling through the valley underneath creatures they were sure were carnivores, and, for all they knew, even more bloodthirsty than the linacs. It served as a constant reminder that the ponies were far from the top of the food chain in Saddle-Arabia, and one was made to wonder how many other valleys hid such dangerous and vast wildlife yet undiscovered.

The inside of the tent was warm, the smell of incense covered the damp hints of sweat. The candles flickered each time the wind outside barely passed through the slits of the tent entrance, threatening to whisk out the little light it gave to them. Athaal was sure that the shadows playing over his face as he talked to the mare made him look angrier than he actually was, and perhaps more threatening. At this point, however, that was good, for the mare responded to each of his questions with an attitude that would have earned her a hanging if she were from Saddle-Arabia. Each time Saif translated her answer, there was a hint of uncertainty in his voice, and he tried his best to deliver her answer in a way most respectful and with tact. Athaal did not, however, need a translation to see her demeanor, and to understand her dislike of her position.

Athaal pressed a hoof to his temples and muttered calming words to himself. He looked her dead in the eye, feeling he was close to losing his temper; if he had known this mare to be so troublesome he would have ignored his brother’s request. Never before had he experienced such little extent of gratitude. As he felt the iris rings burn, he took a deep breath, reminding himself that her culture was different, and her life would prove valuable as they crossed into Equestria.

Her muzzle wrinkled a little at him, and, like the final droplet in a glass before it floods, it pushed his patience over the edge. He was sure, that when he looked at her now, the rings in his eyes would be black like the deepest pits, though if anything it might help him to make his points. He clenched his jaw tight.

He had enough of this.

“Understand this: I hold no debt to you, and I have no duty to keep you alive.” He halted, waiting for Saif to translate it, and he saw her become weary. “And, understand this, I will not hesitate to leave you behind here, where an infection will take hold of you and you will share the same fate as those who died in rescuing you. Perhaps the beasts that you took will return before the infection takes your life. Were you to be torn in pieces, it would not matter to me, so answer my questions, or welcome the other option with an embrace,” Athaal threatened, his voice calm, but an apparent ire within, and he was sure she heard it when he spoke, for her eyes turned worried to Saif.

Saif nodded. If he had any emotional distress to Athaal’s threat, he did not show it; he simply turned to the mare and made sure it was clear she had little choice. Slowly, Athaal could see her arrogance turning to fear. She shook her head and stole a hoof to the wound on her shoulder.

Shortly after, she carefully started talking. “She was on her way to a town called Manesail, and instead of going around the Saddle Arabian borders she decided to cross directly over our desert,” Saif translated.

Athaal shook his head at the answer. The linacs should be an issue in Equestria as well, and most of them should know of the dangers. A question still lingered in the back of his mind: why was she alive? “Ask her if she noticed something odd when she was captured, in their behavior or anything like that,” he finally ordered.

Saif translated, and Trixie became silent, her eyes fixed in a hollow stare. Athaal saw moisture slowly form in her eyes, a tear rolling down her cheek. Her voice crackled when she finally spoke again, her lips quivering once she fell silent.
“She only remember that they tore apart her wagon and quickly subdued her, they wounded her shoulder to stop her from running away before they apparently had an argument between themselves.”

Athaal sighed, Trixie was now shivering, almost violently. Deciding that it was enough for now, he rose and let a hoof fall on Saif’s shoulder. The watanï acknowledged the gesture and moved to Trixie, taking her close, comforting as best he could. “I’ll leave you two alone; if you need anything, I’ll be nearby,” he said and quickly left and turned towards the veteran’s tent. He would get more information from her, he was certain of that, but unless she was an enemy there was no need to push the answers out more than what he had already done, so he would wait.

Lightning scorched across the sky and crackled before thunder rolled over him. Then the hammering of rain on tents and the forest was all he heard, accompanied by the roars of waterfalls from the valley walls. He shuddered; he was also certain that in-between he heard the shrieks again. He could just hope that the beasts would remain unknowing of their presence. He pushed aside the flap and entered the tent where Moxie sat accompanied by Arien. They both turned as he entered.

Moxie shifted slightly and made room for him next to her, “Arien came looking for you with a concern,” she said with a light tone in her voice.

Athaal shook himself lightly and sat down next to her, and turned to Arien. “I hope my absence was not of any dismay for you; there was something that needed taken care of. Please, voice your concern,” he offered his apology as he helped himself to a rich bowl of the warm soup Moxie had prepared for him.

Arien bowed slightly, “No dismay at all. Your wife gives lovely company, as always,” he said and smiled to both of them, but then his features turned bleak as he leaned forward. “I’m a little worried about being in the valley as it rains. If it continues like this, I’m afraid it might block our path at certain points. There are limits to what we can cross with the amount of baggage we have. And a few in our group have lower mobility than others.”

“Have you brought it up with Kazim?” Athaal asked.

“Yes, he is out scouting. He should be back any moment now,” Arien confirmed.

“Then we’ll wait with our decision till then. I would rather not travel in weather like this, but if there is no other choice we’ll figure it out,” the young noble mused as he took a large gulp of the soup, welcoming the warmth it offered, and cherished the thought that Moxie was indeed a wonderful cook; it gave so much more taste than when any of the soldiers made it.

“What of the blue one?”

Athaal felt his wife slowly distance herself a little from him the moment the mare was mentioned. He leaned forward and rested a hoof to the ground. “She stays, for now. The wound is clean and there’s no infection: those beasts haven’t touched her with their teeth.”

“And if we need to move fast? I doubt she’ll be able to move with us…” Arien said, leaving the gruesome detail of the underlying question unspoken. He tilted his head slightly and raised a hoof in greeting of Kazim.

The watanï slipped out of a drenched cloak and hung it on a pike before joining them around the fire. He sighed lightly and bowed for them to continue the conversation, while he made off with whatever water he could from his mane.

“Then she’ll share the cart with Moxie, and I’ll drag both of them,” Athaal suggested, feeling his wife once more shift away from him and turning her gaze away from the fire. Thinking little of it, he turned to Kazim. “What have you to report?”

The old watanï bowed deeply. “It seems like the valley might be suspect to flooding. There are watermarks rather high up on the walls from earlier times, and right now it seems we could move at ease through it, but that might not be the case in a short while,” Kazim said, head still turned down.

Athaal buried a hoof into his forehead, before he turned to Moxie. “How are you feeling, Dear? Have you recovered enough to make that travel in the storm?”

She nodded. “I’m feeling fine, perhaps a little dizzy, but that should be no hindrance.” She let a hoof fall on his lap, “What of you though? You will need to drag twice the weight through a muddy valley…” she asked, as she gazed at him with furrowed brows.

Athaal kissed her lightly on the lips. “It will have to do… no matter what, we’ll find a way.” He turned to the two ponies in the tent with them. “We’ll leave as soon as we can, make the necessary preparations and get the camp packed. I’ll go and inform my brother,” he ordered and rose, knowing full well that the news wouldn’t be taken well by the mare or his brother, but there was little choice.

*~*~*~*~*

        Moxie looked wearily at the one she shared the cart with. Trixie had slept through all their preparations, and was still sleeping as she was carried on top of the wagon. She was glad Trixie still slept. If she woke up when it was just the two of them, Moxie had a chance to make sure she didn’t say anything stupid, or rash.

        She took a deep breath, her hoof trembling slightly, and for the life of her she couldn’t regain proper control over it. Her muscles ached, and each touch made her stifle a whimper. Her mind had stumbled upon the thought of regret a few times yesterday. Was the pain she now felt and worked to conceal from everyone worth it? Surely she couldn’t continue a life with the pain she now felt? She closed her eyes slightly. She was certain that Athaal knew about it, for he refused to let anyone else touch her, and his touch was even more careful than it had been the other days. Yet he made no obvious signs of knowing it; he respected her wish for it to remain hidden.

        Saif poked his head in. “Are you ready to go?”

        Moxie nodded in reply, seeing Saif pull the blanket tighter around Trixie, she let the churning feeling of guilt and curiosity she had felt yesterday get the best of her. “Saif…”

        “Yes, my Lady?” He responded.

        “Have you told him?” Moxie carefully asked, ever since Saif mentioned why he wanted to save Trixie, she had known where she had seen him before they met after her wedding. He was the stallion that was with Trixie back in Canterlot. The mere fact that somepony other than her knew Trixie, and how their fates had entwined to such an extent, worried her. The glares Saif had sent her throughout his time as their protector now made sense, he was bound to feel some anger towards her since Trixie left him for her back then.

        The watanï shook his head. “It’s not my place to tell her relationship with you to your husband. It is not my place to say anything about it, in fact. But if I may?” he asked, his green eyes looking at her behind the mask covering his muzzle.

        Moxie nodded, feeling a certain weight being lifted off her shoulders. “You may,”

        “Athaal will figure it out sooner or later, and there is nothing that infuriates him more than being taken for granted, or being played a fool. It might be wise to tell him; he is more understanding than you might think,” he quickly suggested and let a hoof land on Trixie’s thigh. “We’re leaving in a bit, please take care of her.”

        “I will,” she said, and Saif closed the entrance.

        The rain hammered down on the tarp, thundering loudly on the inside. Shouts came from left and right, and the cart started moving with a jolt. Moxie bit her lip, her mind filled with uncertainty about what would be the right course of action. Telling Athaal now would perhaps make him angry, but it would be worse later on.

        Her eyes landed on the sleeping form in front of her. Perhaps there was a way to ensure that the information never got out? Watching the bandages, she thought how easily an infection might come in a damp jungle, and how hard it was to survive without any medical facility. For her, it would be easy: just a little lift on the bandage, and she would be safe…

        Moxie clenched her teeth and shook her head. How could she even think of that possibility? Should she have made the sacrifices of Zubair and L’oohm obsolete, just for a selfish wish to avoid an uncomfortable discussion with Athaal? No. She made a vow on their wedding night, and she would need to put her trust in Athaal again.

        She took a large gulp of water, struggling slightly with the liquid in the rocking motions of the cart. She laid a wet piece of cloth onto Trixie forehead, making sure it rested flatly enough for it not to fall off. Perhaps these were the thoughts Rishad talked about? A disgusting void grew in her chest, just the thought of killing somepony making her stomach churn. At the same time it scared her, these thoughts came uncontrolled and unbidden; how long would it take for them to come into action?

        Trixie tossed back and forth, and let out a small groan before she slowly opened her eyes. For a few seconds she looked around before her eyes landed on Moxie and lit up as the recognition dawned on her. She lifted her chest up, rested on her elbow, and grinned.

        “My, my… this is rich,” the unicorn said in a hovering tone. “To meet you here together with Spectrum. This trip just got interesting.”

        Moxie furrowed her brows: she had never heard the name Spectrum before. “Who do you mean?” She asked in broken Equestrian.

        Trixie sighed and her horn lit up, her magical aura slowly grasping around her throat and ears, forming some form of link. “Trixie grows annoyed with all these weird sounds your language consists of.” The magic blinked once, then faded. “There, a translation spell should do the trick.” She turned to Moxie again. “I’m talking about Spectrum, the pony who was with me when I met you in Equestria.” She chuckled heartily and flinched. “To think I would meet both of you here; what are you? Brother and sister?” she asked.

        Moxie shrugged. “No, his name is Saif, and he’s my husband and mine’s guardian.”

        The azure mare grinned gloatfully. “Husband? You’ve moved on since our little adventure, then. Shame I didn’t turn you over to my field,” she snickered. “Now, who’s the lucky stallion which got you after I was done with you?”

“Be quiet!” Moxie hissed. “You’re not in Equestria. We do not follow the same customs as you; remember what I said after that night?”

        Trixie ran her hoof up and down her shoulder, looking angrily at her. “Yes, I remember. Trixie won’t bend for simple rules like that.”

        Moxie glared at her and leaned close. “My husband carried you all night through the desert, because of Saif and mine’s wish, now show some gratitude.” Trixie smiled and pecked her on the lips in response, causing Moxie to flinch back.

        “How’s that for gratitude?” she mocked.

        The gimpy winged pegasus sidled back. “You do not understand the situation you’re in; anyone here would not hesitate to leave you in the jungle if they figured it out, so leave it!” she said through clenched teeth. She let a hoof fall on her stomach and scrunched her eyes together. The stress was starting to affect her.

        “Oh, you’re pregnant as well? What on Equestria are you traveling out here for?” she asked, the tone in her voice milder.

        “That’s not your concern,” Moxie said through deep breaths, as she tried to lessen the strain on her stomach.

        After a short silence, Trixie spoke again. “Yes, you’re right. That is none of Trixie’s concern,” she said with a sullen voice. “Trixie is grateful for the rescue, she really is. Trixie will try to keep this silent.”

        “Thank you,” Moxie responded.

        “Trixie guesses that a congratulations is in order,” she said and nodded towards Moxie’s stomach.

        Moxie let a strained smile cross her lips. “It is good to see you again.”

        Trixie smiled and they both fell silent, listening to the hammering of rain on the cart tent. An occasional bolt of lightning lit up the sky, followed by the slam of thunder with such force that their bodies shook. Several trees let out loud creaks together with the wagon as the wind took a violent hold. Both of them struggled to keep a sense of balance, and once again Moxie felt her muscles buckle slightly.

        The wagon stopped violently sending Moxie crashing into Trixie. The azure mare flinched and gritted her teeth in pain. Moxie quickly got up again and looked at the shoulder, the crash had caused the wound to open again; the white bandages slowly turned crimson. Outside, loud shouts could be heard, followed by the sound of metal against wood.

        Seeing the blood fill up, she quickly opened the door, squinting as torrent of water hammered her muzzle. She bellowed for Rishad to come to their aid, then moved out of the way as fast as her muscles allowed her. Rishad entered quickly and began tending the wound.

        Curious about what had happened she looked around at the cart seeing one of the wheels being stuck down in a hole. Around her, soldiers scrambled with branches, stuffing them down in the mud before running for more. At the pace they had there wouldn’t be much of a setback, but as of now, she had no idea how long they had in fact been traveling: it could have been the whole day, or it could have been a few hours; the blackened sky made it impossible to tell. At the front, Athaal stood still, silently watching, taking deep breaths.

        Moxie moved next to him and nuzzled him in the groove of his neck, then smiled at him, making sure he knew she was there for him just as much as he was there for her. He looked at her with drained eyes, panting heavily while a fog of his breath gathered in front of him. She knew it was no point in asking if he was alright, she knew the answer. Just like with her, it remained a silent conversation between the two, one coming from a slight touch, weary looks or a caring smile. In a sense she was glad for it, that they had no need to speak out loud, yet still it worried her, for there might be signs she missed, or she misplaced. It was yet to happen, but the fear was there.

Rishad exited the cart and moved towards them, dodging the busy soldiers in surprising elegance for his age. “We need to find somewhere dry so I may close the wound properly, a dry cave will do,” he thought out loud.

Athaal groaned. “Another setback?” He flinched slightly as Moxie served him a quick jab to the side. “Fine… there must be a cave around here somewhere. We need to get out of the deep part of the valley, though.” Athaal turned his gaze at the large walls. “We’re not that far away from being out of immediate danger…” He turned to them again. “Saif, go on ahead and take a look, we need some shelter, high and dry.”

Saif placed a small bundle of twigs in the mud and bowed slightly. “As you wish,” he confirmed and set off.

“That should be enough!” Athaal shouted to the soldiers, before he turned to Moxie again. “Get into the cart, we’re leaving again.”

Her hoof still resting on his chest, she shook her head. “No, I’ll walk beside you.”

“Are you sure?” he inquired, and she knew full well what he thought of.

“Yes, now let me strap you in. It can’t be that far to a cave,” she said and moved towards the cart straps.

Athaal shrugged and moved into position. She lifted the chest strap over his head and locked it, then took the barrel strap and tightened it under his stomach. She looked at him strapped down tight in the harness, his muscles shining as the water ran through the valley they created, and the lightning danced overhead. Her breathing became slightly labored as her hoofs touched the hard surface of him, and his broad neck got her to unconsciously lick her lips. Taking a step back, she smiled, almost as if enjoying a work of art. Her thoughts became disjointed and an uncontrollable barrage of lusty images filled her mind. Her cheeks heated up and she leaned forward, letting her hoof slap his thigh quickly. Seeing the surprised expression on her husband she became aware of what she had done, desperately she her mind, with newfound clarity, searched for something to excuse her action.

Finding nothing, she winked at him and tried a smile. He smiled back, uncertainty apparent in his face. Pretending like it was planned, she took place next to him and cooed lightly. It seemingly had worked, for he turned his attention to the cart, yelling for the soldiers to push as he pulled. Stepping aside to allow him free room, she saw the cart slowly progressing forward as multiple ponies pushed from behind. The twigs and leaves allowed traction, and as more and more snapped under the strain, the cart got loose and moved forward.

        They crossed crags and rivers, moving fallen trees out of the way. All of the houseguards and soldiers moved in front, cutting a path for them, sometimes stopping to get an overview around large rocks or chasing a wild animal away. Each time a shriek from one of the flying predators was heard, so was the sound of blades unsheathing along with leather straps straining under pressure. And each time they did, it cost them a little more time.

        As they traveled, Moxie fought to keep up, draining her energy, refusing to become more of a burden than she already was. At the same time, she focused intently on keeping her mind in check, her will would overcome the new erratic nature of her mind. She would no longer allow the thoughts of murder and lustful sex take hold of her. She knew it was futile in the end if they didn’t reach the graveyard, but, for her own sake, she would not give up.

        It did not take long before they saw marks left to them by Saif, anything from a broken branch or a piece of clothing stuck to a tree. The marks seemed to lead to the path easiest traveled as it swerved both left and right, but it always lead up the hill.

        They saw Saif waving at them with a torch from the mouth of a large cave hidden behind large rocks and a formation of trees. Athaal shouted commands and they began to move towards it with increased haste, a last push before they could rest.

        Athaal stopped the cart as close to the rocks as he could, and immediately Saif jumped down and carried Trixie out of the wagon. He put her down on a blanket next to a fire he had set up while waiting for them to catch up.

        Rishad hurried over and kneeled down next to her as he began to unpack his medical supplies. The old priest removed the red clotted bandages and began addressing the wound. His horn lit up, bathing the cave in a golden light, then gave it a focus point at the shoulder. The priest took off his drenched cape and began ordering Saif around for supplies. The watanï quickly found a bottle and other supplies he was asked for. Rishad poured a white and blue liquid over the wound and began to massage it in, gaining him loud groans from Trixie. As if an answer, Rishad began to mutter incantations.

        Curiosity getting the better of her, Moxie moved closer and looked intently. Rishad focused his magic onto his hoofs and let the golden aura embrace the thick liquid. The edges began to expand slightly in slithering motions, then bored down under the blue fur. Right after, it began to harden, the color growing darker and brown; and taking the form like the chitin of a scorpolid scale. At the end of the mesmerizing transformation, it let go of a loud crack as the center was turned like the rest. Rishad let the golden glow falter, and took a deep breath, ending the spell.

        Moxie looked at Saif, who was seemingly just as bewildered as her at what just happened. “What did you do?” she squeaked in question.

        Rishad smiled. “I performed a beykheff, it will help her wound to heal faster, and keeping it safe from infections,” he explained.

        Moxie looked at her sleeping form, still writhing her mouth in pain. “She won’t need bandages?”

        “No, by using that she won’t be needing any more medical help actually,” he answered. His smile turned tired and he started breathing heavily.

        Saif glared at him. “Why didn’t you do this earlier?” he demanded with an angry grit in his voice. Once Rishad didn’t answer at once, Saif bowed deeply, knowing that he pushed the limits of what disrespect the priest would bother with.

        The old priest sighed. “I’m an old stallion, Saif, and this magic is extremely draining. I didn’t want to use it other than a last resort, and, with the area becoming as damp as this, I needed to do something quick when the wound opened.” He rose and groaned slightly, wobbling as he walked over to his backpack. “I need to regain my strength, please tell her that the chitin is drawing energy from her blood to heal the wound quicker, so some numbness might occur,” he explained as he rolled out his bedroll near the fire.

        Saif looked at Trixie, worry clear in his eyes. He carefully touched the chitin plate with his hoof and sighed, before he rose and headed out towards the forest. Athaal greeted him at the entrance and exchanged a few words before they split, Athaal heading towards Moxie with a large bundle of twigs and logs on his back, which he placed near the fire.

        He fell down on the rocky floor and shouted, “Arien, could you set up the nightwatch?” He closed his eyes and sighed. “I need to… rest.”
        “Right away!” Arien responded and began relaying orders.

        Moxie didn’t utter a word; she wanted to say something, and it weighed heavily on her shoulders. The state of her husband demanded her silence. She saw how the muscles in his legs trembled, how he instantly fell asleep on top of the rocks, and the strained look he had when he entered the cave. No, she would not bother Athaal with anything like this, now. He needed the rest more than her.

        In a grief of silence, her mind landed on the serum she needed to take. With both Rishad and Athaal recovering, she would need someone else to help her. Her hoof rested on her stomach; with her tremors becoming more violent, it could damage the foal. She looked out to the forest. She could ask Saif, but something in the back of her mind screamed at her for thinking that. She couldn’t understand why she opposed herself to the idea; Saif had been nothing else than supportive of their situation, and hers in particular.

        Her eyes landed on Arien. Perhaps she could ask the old general? Coming from a past such as his, he would understand her plea. She flopped her ears back; but what if he didn’t? What if he told her that he wouldn’t be comfortable with it? Would she be forced to take the serum alone? Her chest tightened, constricting each breath she took in a small state of panic.

        She waited, watching as Arien discussed orders with Kazim, and barking out commands to the stallions swarming around them. At last he sat down and rested, leaning towards the cave, his stare carefully watching as everything went as he had planned.

        She took a deep breath and approached him. “Arien…” she started.

        He turned his eyes at her, bowed and smiled slightly. “May I be of any help?” he asked.

        Her mind froze, not knowing how to begin the question, “Athaal… I…”

        Arien tilted his head slightly. “Anything the matter with Athaal?” he inquired.

        She shook her head, “No, he’s just tired…” she said, and again tried focusing on her question. “I need help!” she blurted out at last.
        Arien jolted back at her outburst. “Please, calm down. What troubles you, my Lady?”

        Moxie sighed and slowly began to explain her situation, and what she needed help with. Each word struggled to find its place comfortably on her tongue, while Arien listened intently to every word she spoke.

        Lastly, he nodded. “It would be so little, I will gladly help you. I’ll just ask Kazim to look over the rest.”

        Relief washed over her. “Thank you,” she said.

        After Arien had delivered the message to Kazim, they ventured a little back in the cave until hidden from the sight of others. She realized how it might look for those not aware of the serum, but she trusted that Athaal would understand immediately once Arien was mentioned; the others might as well think whatever they like, she decided.

        She explained the procedure to Arien and he sat down as she ordered. She prepared the serum in a goblet and sat down in his lap and drank it. Immediately, she felt his strong hoofs clamp down on her. She swallowed, forcing the liquid to stay down, and this time she felt the trembling start slowly, then, as it began properly, she closed her eyes.

        At the brink of blacking out she barely felt how Arien lifted her carefully onto his back and carried her back to the cave. Uncertainty clinged to her as she was placed down upon a mat on the floor, her haze hindered any actions. Relief came to her; at least she thought it was that, once she heard the voice of Athaal next to her. She heard a short exchange of words between Arien and her husband, before her mind finally gave up any grip of consciousness at the touch of a familiar hoof.

* * * *

        She woke and inhaled sharply, eyes inspecting the cave roof. Seeing nothing but a pitch black veil, and hearing nothing other than snores from the cave, she decided to take a walk to clear her mind. Sleep seemed unwilling to return to her; half a night of sleep was enough, it seemed, for she felt full of vigor and energy. She carefully rose, making sure not to wake anypony else. Walking through the camp, looking at the sleeping forms of the squad, she somehow felt superior to them.

        She turned towards the forest, the battering of rain had finally subdued. Replaced by the lonely sounds of night; frog croaks and cricket chirps fought an invisible battle over the forest floor. Above the stone arches she saw the moon beaming through the transparent clouds slowly drifting past. The white light barely reached down to the trees, blinking in a brilliant luster over the water droplets on the tree leaves. Where the light reached the small rivers and the nearby basin, it reflected into a large halo; it was almost as like she could walk over and touch a lake moon.

        She basked in the sight of this forest while she walked through it, completely forgetting why she was awake, or even on this trip at all, her mind led completely astray by the wonder around her. The moist grass tickled her hoofs, and branches crackled under her. The water moon grew bigger and bigger, and she could of sworn she heard the light it reflected as a beautiful symphony.

        She stopped at the edge of the lake and looked at her own reflection; and like a stone in water, her peace of mind was broken. The opal blinked with inkling light and the mark underneath it had grown. It almost seemed like her forehead was painted black in some parts, and the blackness slowly moved towards her eyes. Her reflection looked at her with hopelessness and desperation, the eyes an ashen remnant of what they used to be.

        Moxie turned her gaze away as she heard a loud crack behind her, seeing nothing behind she looked above and froze. She saw a large beast looking down in the valley from the edge of the stone arches, its form looked like a large shadow. The only thing telling her that it looked downwards was the violet eyes moving from side to side.

        She opened her mouth in shock, and instantly felt a hoof grab hold of her from behind, pulling her back. As she began to scramble her hoofs around, her owner of the hoof turned her facing towards him. The green eyes of Saif looked straight at her behind his black mask, his gaze was stern as he put the other hoof over his mouth. The instant she nodded, he let go and turned his head upwards.

        Saif carefully pulled her towards the lake, stepping in and mimicked for her to do the same; still holding a hoof over his muzzle. The water felt cold against her fur, and once it reached above her stomach she shuddered, only to once again feel a hoof over her mouth and an angry glare from Saif. He pushed her into the edge underneath the palm leaves, and then placed himself closer to the center, head always pointing up towards the beast, even as water rose to their necks.

        Moxie tried a look over his shoulder and saw multiple set of eyes training their eyes down towards them; she slowly put a hoof over her muzzle to stop her clattering teeth. As the eyes and black forms moved back and forth, changing places, she heard guttural sounds, almost like they were growling at each other. One slammed its large fists down to the ground, causing small stones to fall from the arch piece above them and into the water with a small splash. Instantly the violet eyes turned at the lake.

        One of the shadows leaned forward, looking intently at the water. It growled and began to descend the rocky walls, swinging downwards with ease in its movements. They heard rocks being loosened and falling down into the vegetation rich ground, and shortly after a heavy thump. Trees swayed and moaned, and branches snapped as the large beast moved.

        She held her breath, and her eyes raced over the tree line. Not a sound could be heard, nor could anything be seen. Her mind raced and her heart threatened to jump out of her chest. She quietly prayed that Saif’s clothing would be sufficient enough to hide them.

        A large claw stretched out on the edge and gripped tightly to the bank, another one quickly followed; a large set of nails slowly boring into the water surface. A large lizard like head protruded through the blackness, its mouth filled with serrated teeth. The dim light made the large red scales running down its neck from the forehead barely visible. The white flesh above its teeth became visible as it snarled, taking deep breaths, as if sniffing at them.

        Moxie felt the blood in her veins freeze, she fought every instinct she had to not scream from the top of her lungs, her jaws clamping down so hard that she heard her teeth crack. She could not revert her gaze, and she felt the panic build up, bidding her to weep. Her heartbeat thrashed in her ears, a new sense of pain becoming apparent for her. For the life of her, she could not remove her eyes from the horrible thing in front of her; they were locked in terror. Even the sound of its saliva hitting the water surface made her want to jump, and her inner muscles jolted together. Eventually her eyes caved and a river flowed down her cheeks, but she forced herself to remain silent.

        Time stood still as the eyes moved back and forth over the pond, the beast grunting as it sniffed the air. Another stone hit the water, and the eyes snapped towards them, slowly leaning forward. It then turned its eyes upwards as rock dust fell down, it growled loudly and quickly vanished. As soon as it climbed up the wall again, they heard the thumping of large paws and the eyes above them were gone.

        Moxie let her hoofs fall from her muzzle, only to find Saif covering it again as soon as her hoofs hit the water. She held her breath and listened, carefully flickering her ears for sounds. Saif looked around over the edges of the stone arches again, and, seemingly satisfied that they were safe, he let go of her muzzle.

        She swallowed hard. “W-what was that?” she asked with a voice at the brink of collapse.

        “That was a linac,” Saif plainly answered without facing her.

        “That’s a linac?!” Moxie yelped, feeling her body begin to tremble again.

        “Yes, and it was from the same tribe as the ones we killed,” Saif said and began to make his way out of the water. “Are you alright, my Lady?” he quickly asked.

        She opened her mouth to respond, but found herself yammering and shaking instead. She realized how quickly her life would have ended if it was not for Saif, and at the same time it came crashing onto her just what Trixie had faced alone. Her eyes landed on him and she nodded with newfound respect for both her husband and him, thinking back to the fact that they had killed a couple of those beasts.

        “Come,” he said, “we must wake the others.”

        She followed promptly as they raced through the woods, quickly covering the short distance to the cave. The moment they got inside, Saif jumped over to Athaal and shook him violently. Her husband jumped up and instinctively drew his sword; quickly putting it down as he saw who it was. Before he could make any remarks about being woken like he just had, Saif filled him in. Athaal swore loudly, and the rest of the soldiers began to stir.

        “They were from the same tribe as the ones we killed?” Athaal asked once he had calmed down a little.

        “Yes, they had the same yellow marks at the tip of their scales,” the watanï stated.

        Athaal opened his mouth to answer, but he just now became aware of Moxie standing hidden in the corner, shivering from her wet clothes and the cold night air. He made his way to her and took her in his embrace, and as he did the strength that had held her up vanished from her legs. She buried her muzzle in his coat and wept, this time not caring if anypony heard her. Athaal sat down with her and cradled her back and forth, humming to her as he did back home. It gave some comfort to her, but more than anything she clung to the comfort of the closeness that Athaal gave her, while she released the emotions that had begged to come out in the lake.

        “Wake the others. From now on, we travel by night,” she heard Athaal order before he burrowed his muzzle in her mane, still humming the soft tune of Ghazath to her.