//------------------------------// // Chapter 12 - Azrha Ghazath // Story: The Mark of Eran // by Tofazz //------------------------------// Azrha Athaal lifted his head as he heard the door to the hospital room opening. He had not slept well since coming to Equestria, and it did not help that Moxie hadn’t opened her eyes much, either. He flinched, his shoulder still sore but the wound properly healed. He took a last look at Moxie, still relieved that the black mark was completely gone, and remained as such. He marveled at the medical facility here, machines beeping next to the patients and white sterile rooms, with long gray curtains to block the sun out properly if wished for. The beds made out of sturdy, blank metal, and the blankets offered warmth and comfort. Not once had he seen unicorns attend to them; they relied much more upon anatomical knowledge and experience to heal rather than magic, it seemed. And they did it well, for Moxie looked better and better. While the wellbeing of his wife gave comfort, the lack of knowledge around his brother gave him unease. As soon as they had arrived, Saif had been taken to something they called intensive care for observation. Athaal had tried to gain knowledge about where it was, but for political reasons he was only allowed to stay next to Moxie until the Princesses had spoken to him. At least, that was what they told him. Occasionally they came in and gave quick reports, but nothing more than if he was doing fine or better. So far it had only been positive. He looked upon Moxie again. The curtains had shifted slightly, allowing the morning sun to strike her mane and make it glow like it did in the garden a few days ago. Her breathing came steadily and made her snore slightly, forcing a loving smile to don his lips. Hoofsteps turned his attention to the door. A soldier in golden clad armor waited patiently as he gained his wits. “Yes?” Athaal simply asked in his broken Equestrian tongue. Much like his wife, he could understand it rather well, but had trouble speaking it. The soldier bowed slightly. “The Princesses request your audience in the throne room.” Athaal sighed and turned his gaze to Moxie, barely touching her with a hoof. “It can’t wait, can it?” he asked in redundancy and looked at the soldier. Even if this was what they had come here for, he didn’t know how well Moxie would be when she woke up, scared and alone in a foreign room; he wanted to be there when she awoke. He looked slightly at ease at being addressed that directly and shifted slightly in place before he answered, “Princess Celestia would be deeply disappointed if you’d deny her invitation.” Athaal stepped down onto the floor. “Thought so… lead,” he said, trying his best to not insult with his limited use of the language. He walked towards the guard and nodded, knowing that the Princesses had spent the time since they arrived looking at the books they had with them from the temple. He looked one last time at her before he closed the door and followed the guard. Unlike her, he had never been in Equestria before, and continued to marvel over the difference in cultures with each new experience. Part from how different everything was in the architectural way, he was taken by surprise by seeing mares in positions of power. He wasn’t sure how he felt about it. He didn’t oppose it as strongly as many would, but it would take him time to adjust to addressing them as superiors. The guard led him down a large hallway, past the castle entrance, where commoners arrived to bring their inquiries and pleas to the goddesses. Banners with the marks of them both hung from the roof, but rather than being something fearsome, like the King’s mark back home, it was something soothing over them, yet they possessed a quality that was fit for a goddess. As they reached closer to the throne room, he noticed an increase in the number of guards. Regardless of being pegasi, earth or unicorns, they all carried a weapon: swords, lances or spears. The hall ended in a set of large red doors, guarded by another two well armored ponies. They both nodded slightly as Athaal and his escort arrived and opened the doors for him. The guard that had followed him to this point remained outside and the doors shut behind him, sending a loud thud through the castle. The room, larger than the church he had wed in, opened up in its splendor. Light struck through colored tiles on the windows, landing on the floor like it had been shot through a prism. A large red carpet stretched from the door and all the way to the seat of the goddesses. Upon the white tiles that covered the floor, each hoofstep reverberated loudly. Drawing nearer the large table situated near the vast windows, he felt eyes turning to him, almost as if they judged. All of the goddesses apart from Cadence sat on the end opposite of him, he imagined that she lived too far away to come on such a short notice and didn’t think much more of it. Celestia in the middle, eyes watching him with an experienced yet cautious look. Her mane constantly moved with a shift of different colors, as if in constant wind, her coat a purest, snowy white and magenta irises beckoned him into submission. To her right, the younger, and smaller, of the goddesses resided. Her mane glittered with the beauty of a cloudless desert night within its violet and dark blue aura, while the dark blue coat shone softly, the black neckpiece stood in stark contrast, adorned with a white half-moon. Her eyes looked at him with uncertainty and judgment, the dark blue irises wandering over his form. To the left of Celestia, the newly made goddess looked at him with curiosity. Her mane, with multiple shades of violet, curled up behind her ears, her coat purple to the very tip of her wings. Upon her head, near her small horn, the crown of magic rested neatly, shining with pure gold and emeralds. A calculating mind hid behind the innocent violet eyes, yet they shifted slightly as a new experience opened up new doors of learning for her. He was uncertain how to address them, for back home he would be of a higher rank. Here, on the other hoof, he was standing in front of what could easily be called demigods, with life and power far beyond his own. While he knew that Celestia was familiar with the Saddle-Arabian culture, the two others were not. As much as he wished his traditions would not be insulted, he hoped he would not do the same to them. He bowed deeply as he would to his king and remained with his muzzle nearly touching the floor till he was addressed. “Athaal Ghazath, is it?” the calm and comforting tone of Celestia asked. “Yes, your Highness.” He quickly answered, then paused, trying his best to formulate his next question. “I could ask... what of my brother?” he asked, uncertain if he at all managed to get it right. Celestia smiled slightly at him. “Saif is stable, but he require a lot of medical care and must remain completely still as the poison of the linac is removed. Therefore, you may not see him just yet,” Celestia answered calmly. “I will make sure to tell you when you may visit him,” she added and smiled kindly. “Thank you,” Athaal answered, relieved that Saif was taken care of, but worried yet, for Saif didn’t know what had happened to Trixie. Almost above all, Athaal feared what would happen once he told him. “This book… it’s familiar to me. Where did you stumble upon it?” Celestia asked, hovering the book found within the temple ruins in front of her. “My brother found it in the clutches of a dead unicorn in an old temple in the desert.” “Fascinating… last I saw this was hundred years before the Crystal Empire fell to Sombra. I know its purpose.” Celestia turned her gaze at him. “Do you know it? Please answer in your own tongue if you wish; my knowledge of your language is more than enough to understand you,” she added. “We know some of it, but not the whole picture,” he answered, feeling relief at switching languages. “How did you read the language? It’s very old; few know about it at all.” She placed the book down upon the table again, and looked at him with a demanding stare. “Will you also explain what you were doing out there, and what happened?” Athaal took a deep breath and began to recite as best as he could. The little he understood from the sickness that began their journey, and how they had stumbled upon Trixie captured by the linacs. How they had earned the ire of the tribe by rescuing the unicorn. The following of Rishad, and his death and sacrifice, along with the rest of the fallen. Lastly, he explained the treason they had experienced near the graveyard, where he got injured and the last watanï had fallen. “What of Trixie?” the light voice of Twilight Sparkle wondered. “Trixie Lulamoon, Princess Sparkle,” Athaal corrected, and he quickly saw how Luna became annoyed with his blunt correction. He ignored it and faced Twilight. “Her name shall forever hold a special place within my blood-line, for, without her, I would not be here, and nor would Moxie, my wife. In the end, she gave us her life as a thank you for her rescue. A sacrifice meant to be Rishad; unknown to us, it is the only cure for the disease.” Athaal took a deep breath and closed his eyes. “She will be remembered for her last action, a truly selfless act. My foal will bear her name in my own tongue, and it will carry that name proudly, knowing exactly why it needs to. Trixie Lulamoon is gone. I am forever grateful for the fact that I got to know her in her last days, but her spirit will never fade.” “Bu-“ Twilight started. “Twilight…” Celestia interjected, her gaze lingered on Athaal. “My student is somewhat inexperienced with your culture, would you mind if I explained it to her?” she asked calmly, but her slight change of tone made it clear that it was not a request. He bowed. “The teaching of my culture is open for all.” “Twilight, what you just saw was a blood oath; it is given only to those who have passed. Often for great warriors, or a benevolent king. Never before have I heard it be given to a mare…” Celestia explained, not removing her eyes from her student. “Trixie’s dead?” the lesser alicorn asked, full and well knowing the answer. Her face turned somber, and her eyes to a detached thoughtfulness. “I’m afraid so, Twilight.” “Did you know Trixie Lulamoon, Princess?” Athaal asked as he slightly bowed his head downwards toward Twilight. “I would like to hear more about the life of my family’s savior, unless speaking of those passed is against your culture.” Twilight shook her head. “I knew Trixie, we had some history together…” She became silent and stared aimlessly into thin air, as if a deep regret struck her. “Let us focus on the matter of what you wish for,” she said after a while, in a distant voice. Athaal nodded and turned to Celestia, but his eyes remained on Twilight. He knew that to push further on the subject would perhaps harm his chances of acquiring what he needed, yet his wish to gain more information about Trixie pulled him. But seeing how Twilight changed her expression once she understood the meaning of a blood oath told him that she, as well, felt sorrow over the loss of the magician. “You brought us this book, Athaal, yet you’ve not told us what you wish?” Celestia softly demanded. “Your Highness, if I’ve understood the information within that book correctly, I require help.” As he said it, there was a certain change in Celestia’s demeanor: she leaned slightly forward as if she had discovered something entirely new. “If my King is responsible for the sickness that almost took the life of my wife, and responsible for the creation of the linacs, whom almost killed my brother, then I will serve him no longer. If I were to return with this book and approach my King, me, and my family, would be killed for treason, of that I’m certain. I therefore humbly ask for your highnesses to aid me, with your political ties, to learn the truth. I also wish to request for my family to be able to stay here in your kingdom.” Celestia arched her neck back, closing her eyes thoughtfully. “You must understand, your Highness, this request does not come easy from me, but I believe it is for the greater good of those living in Saddle-Arabia,” Athaal quickly added. “I’ll grant you a room in the castle, Athaal. You may live there with your family till we figure this out,” Celestia said and smiled lightly. Athaal bowed once more. “Your kindness is great.” “Do you have any belongings back home, Athaal?” Twilight asked curiously. He turned his gaze at her, his features becoming a stoic mask. “You must understand, my life back home is only as long as the king permits, so is my honor. My house will be removed from the history of Saddle-Arabia because of this. I’ve become a grey warden…” “Grey warden?” Twilight wondered. “The colors of my house will be taken from my person, a grey slate in the files of Saddle-Arabia. I will only have myself and my family to protect. I will become the warden of my own honor, and my own person; a wanted target within the land of Saddle-Arabia. The safety of my family falls to no pony but me, now…” he explained. “You can’t be serious?” Twilight blurted out in disbelief. “Such is the fate of anypony that goes against the crown openly.” Athaal turned his gaze to Celestia, “If I may be a little blunt, your Highness, you recognized the book we found in the temple. How?” “We don’t think that’s any of your business!” Luna declared from the side. Celestia gave no recognition to her sister’s outburst, rather she looked at Athaal, grief clear upon her face as he asked the question. Twilight saw the change in the white alicorn’s features, and looked worriedly at her mentor, uncertainty playing over her. Celestia’s gaze remained unmoving, as if judging Athaal. “No, Luna. It may not be, but he has the right to know,” she said after a long silence. “I know this book simply because I was there when it was written. I knew about the temple you found it in, but the King back then denied its very existence. Not wanting to go to war against a whole nation because of a hunch of what went on in there, I withdrew.” Athaal locked eyes with Celestia. “So, because of your inaction, Sombra was brought to life, sending this plague over my land and dooming the Crystal Empire for a thousand years…” “Yes…” Celestia answered calmly, and returned his stare. “Not even I can see all ends; I may not see into the future, and, for all my wisdom, I still doubt my own decisions. I could never have forgiven myself for all the lives that would be lost during a war, and I try my best to repair those mistakes made in the past.” “What of the linacs?” Athaal asked, hoping to not unsettle the goddess more than necessary. Celestia turned to her smaller sister, urging her to take the lead. Luna straightened her posture and responded calmly. “That is a matter we must take when the time comes. We have discussed it with our generals and we feel that you might perhaps add valuable information to our troops if you would agree to tell them of your experience, and to train them to fight against these linacs,” she suggested. Athaal remained silent. He felt Luna’s piercing stare over him, judging him and how he responded. If he would agree to train the troops of Equestria it would perhaps gain consequences far worse than being marked a gray warden. If the crown feared he would reveal secrets, he and his family could be marked by the legion. He knew, however, that he needed to trust his new allies, and from the looks they gave him it was also expected of him to comply. He bowed slightly. “I would be honored. However, there is a condition.” Both Luna and Celestia leaned forward, both squinting slightly towards him. “I will not train your soldiers personally; I may train one of your sergeants or generals, and let them bring the information to your soldiers, but my presence in the training ground must be a secret. I wish to return the trust you have given me, but my family’s safety comes first. I hope you understand.” Luna raised her brow slightly, but then nodded. “Very well, if that is how you wish to do it, we shall see that it is fixed.” Twilight hovered Rishad’s book in front of her, sifting through the pages, completely engrossed with the content of it. When it became clear for Celestia that her student had completely lost herself to it, she smiled slightly. It took a couple of pages before the smallest alicorn noticed the stares upon her. She quickly shut the book and put it down, before she apologized to those in room for her absent mind. All eyes turned to Athaal once more before Twilight spoke, “Athaal, could you explain some of the magic from Saddle-Arabia to me?” He looked quickly towards Celestia and upon receiving a quick nod he began to explain the Arwah and the different kinds, how the scholar and all unicorns trained their mind’s arwah, and how soldiers had the arwah of the heart. Then he sighed. “Sadly, I cannot tell you more. As I am not a unicorn, the theories of magic are not taught to me.” Twilight’s eyes almost gleamed with the possibility of studying something entirely new and turned to her teacher. “This magic is completely new to me, completely different from what we learn here. I must gather a small team so we can properly study this.” “No,” came sharply from Celestia, the reaction from Twilight immediate. One could almost see her disappointment growing up to the surface. “There’s a reason, Twilight. For now, let it rest,” she explained as her jaw clenched slightly together. Twilight opened her mouth to object, but closed it fast and nodded in understanding. Before they could discuss what to do next, a loud knock echoed through the vast room. Celestia ordered the door to be opened and the hinges complained loudly as they had to bear the weight of the large door. A soldier donned with the regular golden armor poked his head through and saluted. “Pardon the interruption, your Highnesses.” Luna waved her hoof and allowed him to speak further with no consequence. “Athaal Ghazath, your presence has been requested at our medical facility: your wife has gone into labor.” Athaal froze. Immediately his breath was gone. It was like he were standing in a vacuum; no wind, no sound, nothing could penetrate to his mind as adrenaline tingled into the tip of his hoofs. He smiled slightly, taking a hoof over his heart. The beat increased, but felt so much different from what it did in the desert. He looked over towards the alicorns, pleading for a permission to leave. The moment Celestia smiled and nodded at him, he began to run. He pushed aside the guard and sped down the ivory halls, windows and arches flashing past his vision in a blur. He moved as if weightless; if he could run on clouds he imagined that this is how it felt. He leaped down stairs and slalomed past ponies as they jumped to the side of him in surprise, some shouting angrily at him. He ignored everything, the sound of his running hoofs echoed through the halls, but along with it was also a smile beaming like the sun itself. Throughout the journey they had faced struggles and dangers and almost died on occasion. These things vanished from his mind; so did any thought of what his decision would mean to his family, now not only Moxie and him. Halfway and his heart threatened to jump out of his chest, he didn’t mind. His breath stung slightly, but he didn’t mind. His jumps carried him ever forward. This is it, I’m finally becoming a father, he thought as tears rolled came from his eyes. He wasn’t sure if it was from the wind or from joy, but they quickly left his fur and created wet marks on the floor he passed. * * * * * The hours felt like days, made worse by the fact that he was not allowed to be at the side of his wife. So he wandered aimlessly outside the door, head jolting up each time it swung open in hopes for news. His attention changed as he saw Celestia walking towards him. As she stopped, a smile split her lips. “Anxious?” she asked. Athaal bowed once more. “Yes, more so since I’m not allowed to be with my wife.” “You’ll be next to her when it matters, Athaal Ghazath,” Celestia comforted. Then her demeanor changed. Something was on the alicorn’s mind, yet she had trouble voicing it. He remained silent; his dealings with the priests back home had taught him to never put haste on something that weighed heavily on somepony’s mind, for the clarity of what they want to say would then perhaps be broken. “Athaal… there’s an important question I need to ask you. What has the crown told you about your eyes?” she finally asked. He looked at her slightly bewildered, as if the content of the question was completely alien to him. He hadn’t thought about it before, but now he began to doubt the information he had been given from birth. The mark he had carried throughout his life with pride, could it all be another ploy by the crown? “They are the mark of a great warrior, gifted by the gods,” he answered, fearing what the alicorn might say next. The white alicorn looked at him carefully; not angry, nor happy, but a sense of comfort beamed from her, together with eyes full of regret. “Would you agree to do some experiments, Athaal?” “For what cause?” “We believe that the iris rings, and other mutations that are common in Saddle-Arabia, are an effect of the disease. With our academy working on it we might figure it out for sure. One major issue has been that no Saddle-Arabians have been in the situation you’re in now, and thus have never agreed to help us.” He sat down, uncertain of what any experiments would entail, but he was certain that the goddess would not disappoint him. If they found anything unusual in him, they could use it as leverage to gain compliance from the crown. It would make sense, seeing how it acted on him, burning from anger, painful crushing: It was not natural. “Very well, I agree,” he lastly said, bowing his head slightly down. “I’m glad, Athaal. I can assure you that no harm will be done to you.” She bowed her own head slightly at him, and smiled. A thought came to him, and he looked at the alicorn again. “May I ask something?” “You may.” “How come you won’t let the alicorn of magic study the magic of my country?” he wondered, making sure his voice was submissive as it had been within the throne room. Celestia closed her eyes and sighed. “It is because of the nature of your magic.” Seeing the confusion dawning over Athaal, she settled to explain further. “All unicorns in Saddle-Arabia are made to go to the temples of Eran, as you call them, and only they are allowed to learn the nature of the magic used. They spend time training their mind and soul, or arwah as you call it, to make the spells more potent. For healing magic, that is great, but at the same time dangerous. If somepony with enough strength would perform a spell on other without their defenses up they could plant an idea within them, and make it so that the victim would perform the task planted as an idea no matter their nature. I do not want that kind of magic within my kingdom; it gives too much room for misuse.” As he recovered from what the princess had told him, the sound of a foal’s cry reverberated from the room behind him, and his heart jumped up to his throat. He knew that this was the sound of his foal, a foal they had travelled far to make sure lived. Hearing this sound, his tiredness vanished. The one thing he managed to do was to smile, and as the door opened he smiled even wider. A blonde maned nurse poked her head out. “Athaal Ghazath? You may come in now,” she said and stepped to the side, giving him view of the room. “Nurse, could you and the other staff stay out here?” Celestia quickly asked, both doctors and nurses quickly complied. “Thank you, your Highness,” Athaal said, for he knew that Celestia recognized his traditions as well as the many in Saddle-Arabia. Athaal slowly entered the room, heart pounding as he drew closer to Moxie, who was resting in the bed, cradling a small creature in her hoofs. He held his breath, hearing small nuzzling sounds coming from the ball of blankets. Moxie smiled at him, a tired but satisfied smile, beckoning him to come closer. He let go of his breath in a restrained manner while he sat down. Carefully, he took a hoof and pulled the tip of the blanket to the side.         Moxie ran her hoof down his chin and smiled warmly. “Say hello to your daughter, Athaal.”         The tiny creature which rested in Moxie’s hoofs looked at him with a curious expression. Her fur light brown with a pristine quality to it. Her mane dark brown like his, elegantly touching her coat. Her eyes looked at him, their color so close to Moxie’s, a foal born with the blessing of the sun. She also had the iris rings from her father, and he wondered slightly what ill-fate he might have put on his own daughter. Athaal hovered a hoof over the filly and felt a rush coursing through his veins as a set of small hoofs carefully prodded his own. He was sure that the foal could see how his eyes sparkled with excitement; he was sure that she could feel how his pulse increased as she touched him. And if she could understand, she would know that the tears that came to his eyes were those of joy when he heard the lighthearted laugh that came.         “She’s beautiful, just like her mother,” he stated, his voice soft as the silken sheets that could only wrap the newborn in a warm embrace.         Moxie giggled. “I’ll remember to tell her that once she gets older,” she lightly mocked as she ran a hoof through Athaal’s mane.         Athaal smiled wryly at her. “Yeah, you remember that.”         The tired smile that adorned her beautiful lips, how he loved it with all of his heart. But seeing it brought a lingering thought to mind, something Celestia said to him. Could Rishad have made sure Trixie would complete the task he set out for? He didn’t want to believe it, but the possibility was there from the changes he had seen in Trixie after Rishad had cast a spell on her.         He looked on as Moxie nuzzled the foal, and let it play with one of her braids. The mother of his foal beamed with life and love once more. Her eyes never left the foal in her hoofs and gazed at it with deep affection. She carefully pulled it nearer to her, shutting her eyes to savor the closeness they had together, making sure not a moment was lost.         Athaal decided, even if it was a possibility that Rishad had done that, he could not tell Moxie, not yet. She needed to keep the image she had of Rishad for just a little longer; it brought comfort to her, he was sure.         She finally took her eyes from the foal and looked at him, her features turning slightly to worry as she saw him lost in thought. “What’s wrong?” she asked.         Athaal shook his head. “I’m happy, happier than I could ever imagine.” He took a deep breath and wiped a tear away. “I thought I lost you, both of you, earlier; but look now, we have a beautiful daughter.” Athaal rose slowly and placed his lips upon hers, before he let his head rest carefully on her shoulder. “I love you, Moxie…” he said with a comforting sigh.         Moxie nuzzled his mane. “I love you, too…” she replied and let her head rest upon his.         He lifted the foal up and held her close. He began reciting the words his father had taught him when Moxie became pregnant: the oath of Ghazath. “When day becomes dawn and falls to night, I’ll be here for you. When your first tear falls, I’ll be there for you. You’re brought into this world under my wing, bearing the name of Ghazath; no matter the struggles, no matter the cost, I will be there for you, settled next to your mother. By your life, our hearts bound together, a bond only to be broken by death. Wear the name with pride, and we’ll be there for you when struggles arise. Ghazath is whole, and as a family, no one will be forgotten or left behind.” He gave the foal over and tucked it gently into the hoofs of Moxie. “Azrha Ghazath, I welcome you to our family,” he said in a hushed whisper, placed a careful kiss on her forehead and smiled.         Moxie cradled the small one, humming a lullaby. “Azrha Ghazath… a beautiful name, I know you will wear it with pride.” She looked wryly at Athaal. “But so many lives has been lost…”         He rose and pushed Moxie carefully to the side of the bed before he laid down next to her. “Yes… but it’s over now,” he comforted the best he could, putting his hoofs around her.         “If you know what you do now, would you do it over again?” she asked, letting her hoof carefully touch the scar upon his shoulder.         “Yes,” Athaal answered without skipping a breath. “For you two, I would go to the ends of the planet and back, as long as I knew I would be able to come here to you.” He pulled her closer and let his head fall upon hers. They both let one hoof rest near Azrha, gently touching each other and her. And he began to hum, as he had done for only Moxie so far, but now… it was for one more.