//------------------------------// // Dall // Story: Courts of The Magi // by Airstream //------------------------------// “Serale?” Cobblestone asked, feeling around for her friend. “Serale, I can't see right now. Are you around here?” There was no answer. Cobblestone debated dimming her horn for the third time in nearly half an hour, or had it already been an hour? Maybe she had only been out here for minutes, but the cold was everywhere, and it made it hard to think. But as near as she could tell, she'd been lighting her horn long enough to cause some strain, a bit more than normal, and it was the only thing that might be able to clue somepony into where she was. And she'd need somepony to find her soon. Another wall of frigid air slammed into her, knocking her over once again into what she felt sure was a snowbank. Teeth chattering, she got to her hooves once again, stumbling as she did so, blinking the snow out of her eyes, hoping that the action would restore some of her sight to her. There was nothing. She choked back a sob, walking in a generally forwards direction. “Serale?” she shouted into the wind. “Vino? Anypony there? I need help, I can't see!” Her ear flicked up as she heard something approaching a shout from somewhere off to her left and far, far away. She oriented herself toward the sound, but stumbled and fell again. She was going to freeze soon, she knew it. She could feel a warm lethargy spreading throughout her limbs, much faster than it ever had back in Crescent City, when she was younger. This was colder than she could ever have possibly imagined being, colder than she thought any place could ever be. She had stopped shivering minutes after colliding roughly with the ground, the last thing she remembered before that being a sense of something having gone wrong, and the last thing she saw being Libra's worried face, turning towards her. How long ago was that? Surely it had been longer than a half hour ago? Inwardly, she cursed herself for a fool. Of course Serale hadn't known enough about enchanting things to do it safely, but she'd read books on the subject all her life, and she'd made it sound so damn simple. Where had they gone wrong? They'd double checked the spell to account for ambient magic, for possible surges or misdrawn runes. Maybe it had been something to do with the material itself? Cobblestone realized that she had been laying in the snow for half a minute now, and shot to her hooves as quickly as she could, pointing her head in the direction she thought she had heard the noise coming from and starting off again, cursing again and again and again as she shouldered her way into wind and snow, relighting her horn as she did, though she could no more see the light than anything else around her. It really shouldn't have taken as much effort as it was, even with the cold and the big spell she had cast...whenever it was she had cast it. It was strange, she thought as she walked, more and more clumsily. She should have been more preoccupied with the fact that she could no longer see, but all she could think of now was the fact that she was going to die in the middle of a massive blizzard, probably far from home and anypony else who might even begin to care. She debated calling forth a flame to keep her warm, but knew that the effort and energy to keep it up would only kill her more quickly unless she could find something to light with it. The shout came again, this time a definite exclamation, though she couldn't hear exactly what was being said. She adjusted her course, picked up the pace, kept her black robes close and wished that she had been clothed in something else that morning. A rock knocked against one of her hooves, and she almost fell again, but kept her balance, splaying her hooves out to stop herself. The breath left her as she realized that something about the ground felt off, and she slowly straightened up, putting one hoof out slowly in front of her. It found no ground. Stepping back, she felt for the rock, and tossed it a short distance in front of her. Even with the sound of the wind surrounding her, she should have been able to hear the crunch of stone against snow, but again, there was no sound. She swallowed, stepped back again. What lay before her was either a hill, dangerous to any blind pony who wanted to keep their legs unbroken, or a crevasse, dangerous enough to any pony, even one with sight. Her legs buckled, tired of supporting her and lacking the blood necessary to keep her going. She desperately wanted to stop moving, to just lie down and let sleep claim her. It would be easier than wandering around for hours more, and less painful than the fall was bound to be. She closed her eyes, a meaningless gesture, and wished for a fire. A thought occurred to her like a thunderbolt, or a wave crashing against the shores of her mind. As if she was there already, she could clearly see Lady Everstar's study, a mug of coffee in front of her, and remembered their conversation about what the Lady had called “soulsight”. Her eyes were useless, yes, but what about her magic? Cobblestone remained kneeling, trying to ignore the cold that was becoming more worryingly distant with each passing second, and instead turned her consciousness inward. She grabbed for her magic, but it slipped away like a fish through swift water. Grunting with effort, she tried again. Every time she'd reached for the soulsight so far, she'd been relatively calm, excepting the arena, which may have been the reason she was currently freezing to death rather than cheering on Vino's victory. Come on, she thought desperately, Come on, I'm going to die if I don't get this right. Work dammit, work! Her horn sparked, and she tried to find that same well of power she could so easily find when she was safe and warm in a study or her room, but it proved elusive, too elusive. And her damn horn kept refusing to cooperate. Cobblestone tried to get back up, but found that her legs would no longer support her weight. She tried to muster the will to get up, but found she wasn't quite able to remember why she should be worried. She closed her eyes, faded out, opened them again. How long had she been out here? How long had she been asleep? Her eyes closed again, opened again, it made no difference. Was it still bright out? Had the sun set? Was she sleeping again? She was worried about cold, and the sun setting would make it colder, but Cobblestone didn't feel particularly cold. She wanted to shrug off her robe, warm as it was. She was almost sweltering, as if she was laying too close to a bonfire. Finally she gave up on that, too, and laid back, letting herself drift. She felt a bit cooler now that she had let her hornlight go out, and Cobblestone felt the headache it had caused her begin to dissipate as well. Why had her horn been giving her a headache? That had never happened before. Dazed, she raised a hoof to her horn, and grunted at the bolt of sharp pain that shot through her head. She'd need to see to whatever was causing that when she woke back up. Cobblestone closed her eyes once more, and felt a warm wave rush over her, and carry her away. As she slipped into unconsciousness, the young unicorn thought she felt herself swaying, like she was on a boat being carried away by a wonderful tide. The first thing was pain. Cobblestone wanted to gasp, or scream, or cry, but all of those activities would have required her to move her muscles, and she was simply unable to, and so was forced to lie there and suffer in silence, with the smallest of whimpers to pass for her protest. She felt simultaneously rigid, as if she had been frozen into one big block of ice, and completely limp, like her muscles had been replaced with stones that she had no hope of moving. This paled in comparison to the sensation rushing across her skin, a searing pain like she was being burned alive, a sensation she knew well. She endured, and when her muscles finally relaxed enough for her to get a breath in, she drew in a quick gasp and attempted a scream. A short yelp, more like a dog than a pony, escaped her lips, which also felt oddly stiff, and she shifted her weight, and was rewarded with the sound of water hitting a floor. “Cobblestone?” She recognized that voice. She drew in air, made an effort. “V...Vino?” There was a presence by her side. “I'm right here, Cobblestone. I need to go get the healer, okay?” Cobblestone tried to shake her head, to tell Vino not to leave her alone, but it was either not noticeable, or the gesture was ignored, for she felt Vino leave her, departing with the rustle of heavy fabric and a strange clanking sound. After a moment, still feeling as if she was going to cook, Cobblestone attempted to find out just where she was. A disobedient hoof was forced out with a supreme effort of will, and impacted what appeared to be a wall of metal after moving through what she assumed to be boiling water. She repeated the process with her other hooves, coming to the conclusion that she was in a large bath of some kind, or a cauldron. Or perhaps it was a cooking pot. With an effort, she began to lift herself out of the tub, using the water more than her own strength to lift her towards one side. Feeling faint dismay at her continued lack of sight, Cobblestone managed to get two hooves over the lip of the bath, and then used her body weight and gravity to do the rest, landing in a wet, shivering heap on the floor. Where was she? The last thing she remembered was the cliff, or the hill, or whatever it had been. Wherever she was now was definitely warmer than the frozen wasteland she had been wandering a while ago. She seemed to be resting on a floor, made of wood, perhaps. She could hear a faint rustling that she identified as cloth, perhaps laundry, blowing in the wind. Most noticeable and unwelcome was perhaps the smell. The entire room smelled like wet hair and musty, animal stench. Was she in a barn or a stable? There was another rustle of cloth, and a blast of cold air that set Cobblestone to shivering even harder. The sound of hoofsteps, the rattling of metal, and other, heavier steps approached, and then stopped. “Cobblestone!” Vino exclaimed. “What are you doing? You needed to be in there!” Cobblestone lifted her head to speak, but before she could, she felt two massive, powerful arms lift her high into the air, and place her right back into the hot water, causing her to hiss in pain. Incredibly, whatever creature had put her in the bath didn't flinch at the temperature, instead setting to work on her body. Strong hands and deft fingers simultaneously held her in the bath, and began to massage her muscles, rough and quick motions that set her to pins and needles, and causing her to squirm. “Please,” she managed to get out, in between mouthfuls of water and gasps for air, “Stop, that hurts.” She felt Vino draw near. “You almost froze to death,” he said, and Cobblestone heard a creaking sound as he either knelt or sat beside her head, again with the sound of metal against metal. “The water you're in right now is only a little bit above room temperature. I know it hurts, but you have to stay in the bath, or you're going to do even more damage to yourself than you already have. We're trying to get your blood circulating properly again.” “We?” Cobblestone groaned as the hands tugged roughly at her neck and shoulders. “Who's 'we'?” There was a heavy snort from somewhere high above her. “We are Talon Rock clan,” a voice growled from above her. “Clan of this mountain, strong and true.” “Minotaurs,” Vino said by way of explanation. “When whatever you and Serale did activated, it sent us up north. We landed in this clan's hunting grounds. Serale and I were taken almost right away, and, well...you know what happened next.” Cobblestone frowned. “No,” she said, “I don't. Why can't I see?” Vino's voice was troubled. “You mean you don't remember?” “Snow in brain,” the voice said again. “If one wanders too long on the snow-land, and cold-sleep takes you, your memories can be taken as with the wind. It happens, betimes.” Cobblestone felt Vino take one hoof, and realized that whatever she was about to hear wasn't good. “There was some kind of magical backlash,” he said. “It affected you and Serale both. Serale was knocked unconscious as soon as we arrived, and she hasn't woken up in a day and a half. You started screaming about your eyes, but all I saw was that your horn was on fire. I was trying to calm you down, and I managed to put your horn out, but that was when the Minotaurs showed up.” “Did I run?” Cobblestone asked. “You vanished,” Vino said. “Disappeared, like teleportation. You were out in the snow for nearly four hours, by my estimate. It's hard to tell, with how long nights are here. You were found near one of the cliffs overlooking the camp. The leader of the clan, the thane, had you brought in here. You've been in that tub for about a day.” Cobblestone raised her hoof from Vino's grasp to touch her horn. “My horn was on fire?” Vino caught her before she touched it. “Yes, and it's very important that you leave it be,” he said. “The medicine they applied is a paste that dries around bone, they use it to cement cracks in their bows. It won't help you regain your magic, but it will keep it from further injury until we can get you looked at by a proper Cleric.” Cobblestone was silent for a moment, the silence broken only by the sound of water sloshing as the minotaur pulled and stretched her legs. Then, “Is Serale alright? Are you alright?” “Minotaurs know how to bring ponies down without harming them,” Vino said. “Don't forget that they raid settlements in the north all the time. They had me lassoed and tied up before I could do much more than jump. They would have got you too, if you had run instead of vanishing. As for Serale, as near as I can tell, she's fine, but she won't wake up.” “I'm sorry for running,” Cobblestone said. “It was cowardly of me. I should have fought.” “There is no shame in running,” the minotaur growled, flipping her deftly over, supporting her neck as he began to rub her throat and chest. “There is honor in battle, but none in a stupid death, blind against many foes. The gods will forgive you, I think.” There was a rustling, and another draft, and Cobblestone heard the footsteps of another Minotaur approach the bath, along with something that clanked and rattled. There was a splash, and Cobblestone felt the water temperature rise, and realized that while she had been getting used to the temperature, the addition of more hot water was again pushing the edge of her endurance. Her squirming must have signaled the water bearer to stop, because the water remained right on the edge of causing her serious pain. She felt pain give way to strength, and tried to stand up. “I think I'm alright,” she said quietly, but the minotaur would have none of it, holding her down in the bath. “Stay,” he said. “Three basins more you must have, and then we must bandage you.” “Bandage?” Vino shifted with another rattle. “You're familiar with frostbite, right Cobblestone?” Cobblestone winced and sank back down into the water. “How bad?” The minotaur spoke. “If not for the herbs we have put in the water, you would surely lose a hoof, and more besides. You will have scars. You may limp from now on.” “Your skin was covered with blisters beneath your coat,” Vino said. “They had to shave some of it away to treat the skin. I told them not to rub you down so as to avoid popping the blisters and wind up giving you gangrene, but I guess the herbs, whatever they are, prevent that.” Now that herbs had been mentioned, Cobblestone realized that, underneath the almost-overpowering stench of fur and animal sweat, she could indeed smell something spicy and crisp, like rosemary but with more bite. A thought occurred to her. “Vino?” she asked. “Yes?” “Why are you rattling when you move?” Vino sighed. “Because I'm chained up, Cobblestone.” “Why are you chained up?” The minotaur spoke. “He was taken in combat, fairly won. For now, he is under the thane's protection, though why this is, I do not know. But he, and you as well, little unicorn, are ours now. The one with the horn of glass even now dwells in the tent of the thane.” Cobblestone was out of the tub before the minotaur could react, charging towards where she thought the door might be as the minotaur and Vino both shouted with surprise. Reaching the point where the door should have been, she braced her shoulder for an impact, but was instead rewarded with a flap of fabric, much like that of a tent flap, and burst forth onto the path running by the tent. Picking a direction at random, she charged off, still unseeing but not particularly able to do anything about it, drawing a few exclamations of surprise, a handful of grunts, and a bellowing roar that she supposed could have expressed either fear, anger, or shock as she raced down a path of swept dirt, feeling her muscles and sinews and skin protest every hoofstep. Going more by instinct that anything else, she turned suddenly, skidding as she leapt to the left, rushing past a source of blistering heat she was sure was a cook-fire, and continuing down a clear path. Behind her, she could hear three sharp blasts from a horn, and realized that they were probably meant to alert the inhabitants of this village or camp of her escape. Desiring nothing more than to not be chained up as a slave, Cobblestone redoubled her efforts. There was a whirring sound, and Cobblestone hit the dirt, rolling to one side as she felt a length of rope slap against her back, having missed her neck. She'd heard stories of minotaur raids before, coming down from the grand mountain ranges in the dead of night to carry ponies away, either as slaves or food, and she decided that she'd take her chances with the wasteland instead of spending her life hooked up to a cart or used to haul heavy loads. Another left, then a right, each on instinct, led her true, and Cobblestone wished fervently that her horn still worked as she tried to do something, anything at all with it. But whatever the paste had done had dampened her magic even as it held her horn together, and so she had to rely solely on her physical ability. She bumped against a small, haired shape, which squeaked and fell back as she regained her footing and continued down the path she had chosen. She could hear more and more noises around her, which didn't bode well for her, as it meant she was probably further into the village, instead of reaching the outskirts. She needed a hiding place while she got her bearings, and it would need to happen fast. She could hear more minotaurs behind her. Gambling on the nature of the dwellings around her, Cobblestone executed a desperate tuck and sideways roll, coming up against the fabric of a building that she realized triumphantly was a tent. This section didn't appear to be tied down particularly well, and so she wiggled underneath it, being as quiet as she could. There was the sound of thudding hooves and heavy footsteps rushing by the tent, and orders snarled in a language that was completely foreign to her, and she lay perfectly still as the sounds of pursuit passed her by, even going so far as to hold her breath. There were a few stragglers, passing by in the space of a minute, and then nothing, save the wind rustling the tent flaps around her. She sighed, standing up, wincing as her muscles protested, and turned to face the interior of the tent. It was hard to tell for sure, but she thought it might be a bit larger than the one she had been in before, and she felt rather than saw the lack of light in the space, no lantern creaking or brazier sparking to provide it. She could hear breathing, deep and even, and realized with a chill of fear that she was likely in some minotaur's bedroom, or whatever the equivalent was. Feeling her way gently along the wall, avoiding the breathing and moving slowly, she circumvented any obstacles that might have been on the floor, and in so doing reached the “door” of the tent. She sighed, taking a moment to examine herself, keeping her hooves away from her horn. She could feel that it was broken without needing to poke at it. It was apparent that she really was in a sorry state, and Cobblestone bit back a litany of curse words as she ran her hooves over her body. Her coat was patchy, and the skin beneath was rough and felt stiff to the touch, which wasn't a good sign. Some taut spots had even torn, leaving her covered in tiny bleeding cuts that were sure to turn gangrenous if she didn't get them cleaned and treated. An old set of priorities established themselves in her head., leftover from experiences with injuries in the back alleys of Crescent City Firstly, find medical supplies, preferably some of those herbs to pack into her wounds, and as many rolls of cloth or bandages as she could find. She'd also need to find warmer clothing, which couldn't be hard, considering that she could still smell the stinking furs, even in this room. She'd need food and water, using snowmelt was a bad idea unless you wanted hypothermia, and she was decidedly over the experience at this point. Then, after that, all she needed to do was find a way out of the village, regain her sight, find her way back into the village, rescue Vino and Serale singlehoofedly, get supplies for them, and figure out how to get them home. It'd be a piece of cake. Probably. But first things first, she needed to get out of this tent. She held an ear up, listening for the sounds of anything moving outside the tent, and when she heard nothing, she quietly pushed open the tent flap and snuck out of the confines of the sleeping area. The first thing she noticed was the crackling of a brazier, and a fairly close one. She took a few cautious steps, and realized that she had come out of a separate “room” in the tent, into another, larger space. Her hoof rested on some sort of cushion, atop which was a blanket, and she could hear what sounded like quiet conversation off to her right, probably in another room of the tent. The second thing she noticed was a rush of air behind her, and before she could react, she felt a length of cold steel being placed delicately against her throat. She swallowed reflexively, and the edge dug into her skin, drawing a thin line of blood. “Well,” said a clear, feminine voice that was certainly not the voice of a minotaur. “Looks like I've found the runaway. The thane'll be pleased to hear you're up, your friend in the other room isn't as entertaining as I thought she'd be.” Cobblestone stood very still. “You're a pony, one of the slaves, right?” she said, thinking quickly. “You need to help me get out of here, before one of them comes and checks.” The voice chuckled. “I'm a pony, not a slave,” she corrected her. “You don't get to dictate terms to me. As a member of the thane's huscarls, I'm going to make sure you get to regret your pathetic attempt at escape in front of the entire tribe.” There was a gentle push on Cobblestone's back. “Starting with the thane himself,” she said. “It's a good thing for you that it isn't far. He's right in the other room.”