//------------------------------// // Homesick // Story: To Call the Moon My Own // by That_Random_Pony //------------------------------// "Papa." Tony panted breathlessly, cold sweat running down his cheek as his fingers tingled with an unexplainable chill. Luna loomed over him, holding his hand firmly as she watched him with concern. It took him a moment to see he was fine, and another to notice his beloved staring at him. He exhaled quietly, then rose his hand up to her cheek. She touched it with her own, then laid against him and sighed. "Another memory?" she questioned. He answered in silence, holding her close as he tried calming his quivering tongue. "Yeah," he practically croaked. He cleared his throat and reiterated, "I'm fine." Luna nuzzled his cheek, then sat up. "You didn't thrash as you did before... he came." She wasn't awoken by jerking or spasming, as he sometimes did. His breathing had gotten erratic, and he held her tighter than she was used to. Something less violent, but it bothered him no less. "...remember... remember what Minira told you? What Dan said?" Tony asked. "You must specify, Tony." He took a shaky breath, and closed his eyes. "I left Dan for ten years... to hunt the others." Faces blurred in his mind, while others prominently stared back at him. She nestled beside him, holding his hand in her hoof. "Yes... I remember," Luna answered. Her brow rose as he smiled fondly, despite the fact he'd woken up in a panic. "There was... something else I did during then," he said nostalgically, glancing down at her. "It's nothing bad... what?" Luna rolled her eyes and tapped his chest with her hoof. "That's what you said before," she reminded him. "Tony, if it's bothering you-" "Luna," he firmly said, grasping her hoof. "This time, I really mean it. I'm not gonna freak out and put us through all that mayhem. But if it gets you to sleep with me~" She smirked at him, then flicked his ear with her magic. The two laughed softly, and Luna yawned before nestling beside him. "Only if it means a night like Hearth's Warming," she cooed, causing Tony to blush as she chuckled. "But what did you remember?" His eyes wandered over to the balcony, which was hidden by her curtains to keep the sunlight out. "I did a lot of... bad things," he began, his smile dimming, "but I helped the humans whenever I could. Sometimes it was just an urge to show them... that I wasn't some criminal... that I really wanted to do good. And... one day it gave me what I have now." Luna looked up at him. "And what's that?" she asked. He smiled before kissing her lips, then wrapped his other arm around her. "A family…” She rose her brow as he closed his eyes and nestled into her mane. “What do you mean?” He took a deep breath and traced the contours of her hoof as he rummaged through his memories. “I'll tell it some other time,” he assured her, moving to the edge of the bed. “I should be going. Don't want to be late for work.” He slipped his shirt back on and started for the balcony. Luna stopped him with her magic as he reached for the curtains, then slowly turned him as she got up and sauntered over. “And my farewell kiss?” she smirked. Tony held her waist as she got on her hind legs and pecked his lips. “Happy?” They laughed softly, and Tony gave her one last hug before exiting onto the balcony. A loud gust of wind blew the curtains into her room, and Nyla's faint roar reached her. Luna rubbed her weary eyes and trotted over to her bed, laying down and savoring the precious seconds of rest. But there was so much work to be done, and her time was starting to run short. Her horn chimed to life, and she took a deep breath as a wave of energy invigorated her out of her tired state. Coffee was much more enjoyable than a spell, but at the moment she couldn't complain. With another chime of her magic, her surroundings changed in a bright flash. Luna sat at Twilight's kitchen table and teleported the tomes she'd taken from the other day. They were interesting spells that she had dreamed of performing a thousand years ago, but now they were actually being written down and tested. Practicing would be a lifelong dream come true, but she needed to master it to some degree before her deadline. It would be wonderful to see him react. Her ear twitched as hooves clopped against the wooden floor just outside the kitchen. Twilight yawned quietly as she made her way to the sink to pour water into a teapot. A minute passed in silence as she filled it with water, and Luna's grin grew bigger and bigger as Twilight about like normal. Until, of course, she dropped it in the sink and gasped. “P-Princess Luna! When did you - how - um… goodmorning!” she anxiously, and weakly, laughed. “You mustn't fret so much, Twilight,” Luna mused, flipping to the next page. “I may be a princess, but we are friends, yes?” Twilight rubbed her leg and nodded softly. “Well, of course. It's just… what are you doing here so early?” Luna stood and proudly straightened herself out. “I would like to begin practicing the spell using your memories.” Twilight's eyes widened, but she refrained from overreacting. Luna, however, noticed her small reaction. “Can we begin? Or are there still mistakes to correct?” “No no! I mean, I've gone over it a couple dozen times,” Twilight began, lifting the book back up, “but it's all theory.” “And what is a theory without evidence, Twilight?” Luna chided, earning a giggle from her sister's student. “Alright, alright. First we need to go see a friend so we can actually have somewhere to make all this.” She looked over the page, which depicted a pony's dreams projected into reality. “You have to be careful if this works. He's seen a lot of awful things.” “I know the dangers, Twilight,” Luna replied, flipping the page. The depiction turned eerie as shadowy figures were created from the pony's mind. “I will search through his memories, if need be.” Twilight nodded, then picked up the teapot she'd dropped and refilled it with water. “I was going to make some tea. Would you like some?” she nervously laughed. Luna shook her head. “I'd like to be awake when we discuss the nuance with your friend,” she told her. “Who might this friend be?” “Madam Zecora. She lives in the outskirts of the Everfree.” She dropped the teabag into the boiling water and sat with the princess. “She knows more about magic than I ever imagined. In her homeland, they had jungles and these vast savannas. So I asked her if she knew a spell or enchantment that could make them. They sounded big enough for us to alter.” “Even if they are not, we can change their size as well,” the night princess assured her. “As long as we can recreate them, there's nothing more we need.” Luna stared at the picture of the pony’s nightmares coming to life. Tony had seen so much bloodshed and fighting that she could accidentally create a soldier. It wouldn't be real, but it would have enough magical properties to physically harm a pony. She doubted it would come to that, as long as he didn't stray out of the memory she needed to carry out this plan. The door to the library slammed open, and quick footsteps alerted the two. In two quick flashes, Luna was gone, and Twilight cleaned the room of any scents. “Twilight!” “Spike?! You scared me!” Twilight exclaimed, sighing as she slapped her hoof over her face. “What's.... wrong…” Spike twiddled his claws as he gave the weakest smile Twilight had ever seen. “W-Well… last night I, uh, got hungry and… ate the last of the vanilla ice cream… and slept with it. But I didn't do this!” He showed his tail crammed into the jar, which Twilight had filled with ice cream to hide the frozen treat. Again, Twilight facehoofed. Loki'irian Fleet Malshuom grimaced as the crushing weight on him slipped off. His armor had been sending alarms into his ears since they crashed, but now it became distorted. The sound of metal tearing rang in his head, then his body felt like it was being moved. Muffled voices reached him as he tried to grab something to get onto his feet. He grabbed an arm and sluggishly moved his legs under him. His helmet’s HUD flickered on and off, giving him faint glimpses of the outside. He saw the downed dropship burning as warriors moved to help the survivors out. Binagish tore the side off and pulled several warriors out, his armor catching fire as he pulled the crew out. A group of warriors brought tankards of water to the ship, and the Signa accompanying them lifted the water into a sphere. The League member signaled him, and the Signa passed the sphere over the ship. The fires were doused and the ship crackled with electricity. Hinaktol stepped into the ship, the sparks engulfing him. The ship shut down, and the electricity ceased. ”...et a repair team here! And clear rooms for the wounded!” Malshuom gasped as his armor released from him, giving his chest room to expand. He shouted in pain as the debris in his leg pushed against the floor and moved around in the gash. “Are you alright, Malshuom?” Figanti questioned, sitting him down by another dropship. It took a minute of recollection the crash for Malshuom to realize what was going on. “My… my leg,” he grunted. Figanti glanced at the metal debris in his leg. “The rest… how… how many survived?” A smile worked it's way onto his mentor’s face. “No casualties. Though there will be a lack of training for the regulars to recover.” He turned back to the downed ship as Hinaktol began reshaping the metal to its normal structure. “There is a Signa missing… how-” “He… he stayed behind… to allow us to escape.” Malshuom tore the gauntlet of his armor away, the rest disconnecting and beginning repairs. “He looked no older than I when we began training… and he did not hesitate to sacrifice himself.” He ignored Figanti’s hand on his shoulder as he rubbed his temple. “He wanted to ensure your safety. A noble death.” Malshuom scoffed and tenderly touched his wounds. “He had a lifetime to spend with his loved ones, Figanti… it was an unnecessary sacrifice.” He grit his teeth and yanked the sharpened metal out of his leg. The flesh and skin began to heal immediately, making disturbing sounds as his wound closed. Malshuom found himself dwelling on what happened. He lost the regulars… and a Signa. Good men and women… good people that would never return to their loved ones. What he had seen wasn't what life on Loki'ir was like. It used to be other men trying to pillage them, or to enslave them. Sometimes they had fought over territory. Any fertile land was worth dying over. But now the people were united. They fought together for a cause their ancestors had once proudly upheld. What he witnessed in the dreadnought wasn't war. It wasn't men fighting for petty reasons, or for glory and honor. No, what he saw was a fight for survival. He and his men fought for every second they spent breathing, and to make sure they lived after their battle. This war wasn't about peace… it was about survival. “Malshuom.” He glanced up at Renkan and took her hand before she pulled him up. “Come, I need to make sure your wounds are healing properly. As for these,” she gestured to his bruises, “we’ll apply gel. They'll be gone by the next morning.” “I'd like to see the others,” he grunted, holding his side. “Renkan… are they alright?” “Some of them need healing. The Signa can wait while we care for the regulars,” she informed him. “Figanti. Portok needs you on the bridge. We might see more fighting.” He nodded and rushed to the hangar exit, and Malshuom began his limp with Renkan. The blood on his body reeked of Arthanian, and he panted as the long walk began to take its toll on him. Renkan tried to summon a gurney from the medical bay, but he refused to lay on it. He was wheezing by the time they reached a room for him. Renkan laid him down and took a small jar of blue gel from the bedside, smearing some on her fingers before rubbing it onto his bruises. She connected a heart monitor and scanned his body for any other injuries. “There's an arrowhead in your back,” she said. “Where?” Renkan showed him the hologram of his body, then gestured to the foreign object buried near his spine. “When did… just take it out.” He turned onto his stomach and waited for her. Renkan wired him to another machine, one he'd never seen before. After flicking a switch, he felt his body lose feeling. The lack of sensation startled him, but he found himself unable to move. “Calm down, Malshuom,” Renkan quietly laughed, digging the scalpel into his skin. “The device stops all nerve and muscle signals to make this painless.” Her Rites spread the cut to show her the back end of an arrowhead. Carefully, she wriggled it out from the gash it had made and set it down on a tray. “There.” She sealed the gaping crevice and healed it together, then applied more gel to ensure it didn't bother him later on. Malshuom gasped as his body returned to normal, and he lifted himself into a sitting position. “Do the others get this treatment?” he chuckled weakly. Renkan kept him from standing up, solemnly shaking her head as she moved to the counter to clean off the gel. “If we were to do this for every wounded warrior, they would forget what pain meant.” She gently traced a scar running across the back of her hand. “My kinsmen would never let a healer do what I've done to you. Nedafan, they would have sooner ripped it out before letting us near them with the gel,” she laughed, rubbing her eyes as the times of old surfaced in her memories. “Then why allow me to circumvent that same punishment?” Malshuom asked her. “You will know greater pains than tearing a weapon from your body. You will one day look for a limb to heal back on, or regenerate it back entirely.” Her fist clenched in front of her, and she sighed as it relaxed. “This was the quickest way to get you back into your training. Another day you miss from your time with Figanti could be another battalion of warriors lost.” “That's nonsense,” Malshuom stated, standing up against the bed. Renkan tried to stop him with her Rites, but his fought against her. “If I am to become Doshu'um, second only to the Makti, then I must be treated like my brothers and sisters. They did not hesitate to train when they were bleeding, and I mock them by resting for simple soreness.” “Your generation isn't like ours,” she rebutted, waving her hand dismissively. “We cannot push the warriors as we did in our time. They cannot adapt to it quickly.” Malshuom hissed as he stood straight and made his way to the door. “We are still Loki'irian, Renkan,” he grunted through gritted teeth. “If our people could do it before you, then by Minira's name we can do it now. Anything less will hinder us. Or has that slipped your mind?” Her expression hardened at first, but slowly a reluctant smirk found its way through to her. “You sound just like him… it's not that simple,” she replied, overpowering him with a quick thrust of her hand. He floated back to the bed, giving her a less than pleased glare as she injected sedatives into him. “At the very least, rest this once. I'm sure you can appreciate one night with adequate sleep.” He grinned lazily as his eyes felt heavy, and he slipped out of consciousness as Renkan left him. She appointed two warriors to watch over him while she walked to the bridge. Regimes of new warriors marched by, saluting their superior before continuing to the training chambers. Those same regimes would have been conditioning themselves in the forests of Loki'ir. Training had been hell for her, especially since her forte had been healing. When her father enlisted her, after she had protected her brother from a pack of hokor, she didn't feel competent. The training had nearly killed her, as it had for many other recruits like her. To this day, she wasn't exactly sure what kept her going. Whatever it had been paid off when she gained her healing Rite, and how quickly she developed them had interested her advisors. After a demonstration for a position on a cruiser, the previous League healer, Marna, had been impressed. From there, her apprenticeship as the next League healer had begun. She turned her eyes from the void of space and stepped onto the lift to the bridge. The platform hummed as it climbed up the ship, hissing to a stop before the doors shot open. The bridge was quiet for the most part, save for the hum of the ship and a few men speaking by the radars. Portok zipped by as he kept an eye on the navigation, weapon, and engine systems. “Here to see Quarek and I?” the speed demon called, speeding across the room in a blink. “Or Figanti?” “I was hoping Ingat was here.” Portok shot from the weapon systems to the piloting system. “Where are the crewmen?” “Yonok sent them down for rest and wanted me correcting anything,” he explained, running to her in a heartbeat. “The bridge is a decent size for me to stretch my legs. But enough of me. You need Ingat?” Renkan nodded. “She's asleep in the Nera'ak dens. Is there something of importance?” “Just a few mundane things I wish to speak about,” Renkan chuckled softly. Portok walked casually to a seat near the radars as she turned back for the lift. “Let Figanti know I'll be training the healers, come morning.” “As you did yesterday?” Renkan glanced back at him as he smirked knowingly. “You may be older, but do not forget our titles represent ONE Rite.” He closed his eyes and sighed. “This is about… our people's last days, is it not?” Renkan turned back and silently made her way back into the lift. “Ingat may be the only other woman you are close to… but we are also here to help you ease these troubles.” He sat up and gave her a warm smile. “We've all lost our families… and our beloved.” Renkan dialed in the level of the dragon dens, keeping her eyes occupied with the panel until the doors shut. She slid against the far wall until she hit the floor, then exhaled slowly. Please, Renkan. If you will only speak with Ingat, be honest. We need your mind fixed on what's to come. Nothing more, nothing less. ...thank you, Portok. Don't thank me. It's abnormal for someone older than I to act as if they are indebted. Fine then. Go impale yourself on a Govek’s blade. There you are. She shook her head with a small grin and stood back up. Her armor unhooked itself from her body and compressed itself into spaulders and a veil to cover her left arm. It was the traditional apparel for someone of her rank, and it made her feel more comfortable. The doors opened once more, and she stepped into the tunnel. The fresh air mixed with smoke and the smell of seared meat, all common for a Nera'ak’s home. She reached the end of the tunnel and smiled as she looked out upon the masses of Nera'ak all over. They rested and flew, or wrestled or laid together. Ingat had always loved to care for dragons, ever since she had been a few cycles old. Her energy led not too far from the tunnel, and Renkan began her flight. Some of the passing Nera'ak and their partners greeted her briefly, and her own dragon called to her. When their minds linked, Renkan’s dragoness needed no more from her. Soon, she found herself nearing a hatchling area near the center of the chamber. Fliers struggled to keep themselves airborne, and some clung to one another. Renkan giggled as she watched a hatchling flap as hard as it could to keep itself and another, who was biting on its tail, in the air. She caught the two rascals and flew to the ground, letting them run off together. “You remember when your own was that age, no?” Ingat appeared from behind a mess of foliage, her garbs singed and her face marred with ash. Renkan laughed and sat against a tree trunk. “Yes, I do. Arkka was the most adorable creature to me,” she said, smiling fondly at the memory. Another young Nera'ak scurried out from behind the tree she was sitting against. It glanced at her for just a second before bounding over to Ingat and nestling in her lap. “They do not have the caretakers we used to have. I believed it best to care for them myself,” she chuckled. The small dragon lifted its head to nuzzle her cheek before climbing onto her back. “They are very feisty at this age!” The hatchling was joined by another, who leaned against her lap as it napped. “You love the Nera'ak, hm?” Renkan softly laughed, removing her armor. Ingat’s smile faded at her words. “Yes… they remind me of the times… before Konaskol gave us our new Rites.” She stroked the spines of the dragon at her side, the other sound asleep on her back. “What brings you to the dens? I'm sure you're not here to play with the hatchlings.” “No… I'd be lying if I said something so strange.” Her thoughts went back millions of years… years she spent lying to so many that she had been a frail and wise old woman. One would think it was enough time to mourn. “We lost so many, Ingat. I watched my continent burn and I could do nothing.” The woman across from her sighed as she undid her hair. “Five million years… and your mind has not stopped dwelling?” Ingat asked, sounding almost relieved to Renkan. “Our kind was nearly driven to extinction… and we were there trying to prevent it. We lost our home to them, Renkan.” “We are Signa, Ingat. We've outlived the most powerful warriors of our kind and have knowledge and wisdom they could only dream of. Why do I still mourn our people? I… still mourn… him,” she questioned painfully. She wouldn't cry, those tears had been shed for her love. “He was torn apart in front of me… and I had to abandon my continent to secure the next generations.” “Renkan,” Ingat called. Her voice had always been soft and soothing, no matter how angry or irritated she was. “The others witnessed the same things. Hinaktol and Quarek were away when the Arthanians sunk their continents. Have you considered how they felt?” An older Nera'ak, about the size of them, stumbled into the clearing. Ingat clicked her tongue to beckon it over. “We are the last of our lineage,” Renkan whispered, taking a deep breath. “You will never know such a burden, to love a single being and have them ripped away from you. You are fortunate, Ingat.” “I may be able to love freely… but that does not mean I do not know your pain at all.” Ingat held her hand up to the artificial light breaking through the canopy. A ring of different gems snugly hugged her index finger, the colors reminding her of the old pits of gems. “I was to be wed the next lunar revolution… and now he lies under a barren world's sands… and I am here.” The master healer had forgotten how young Ingat had been when she was bestowed her title as the 12th member of the League of Thirteen. Barely out of her maturity, if she remembered correctly. “Family is our weakness, Renkan… but it is our strength as well. We can be driven to insanity like Reku'un and try to justify our existence through bloodshed.” The Nera'ak around her jerked their heads up at the sound of a small flock of birds passing, then scrambled to follow after. Ingat stood up and walked over to her elder, holding her hand out. “Or we can hold those we love close, even in death, and promise a better future. That is what family means to me, Renkan. What is it to you?” She stared at the gesture of compassion sternly, and Ingat waited patiently. Her smile only grew wider as Renkan placed her hand in hers and stood up. “My family is the League… and Reku'un. I owe it to his father and to Figanti to fight for him… and to make sure this war ends.” Ingat nodded and placed her other hand on theirs. “Thank you, Ingat. I should return to the bridge.” ”There is no need.” They turned to Renkan’s armor as it projected Figanti. “What do you mean?” ”I can manage the bridge for now. I need Ingat to help with the newly partnered Signa and their Nera'ak. They could use experience, and it's best to have the best.” Ingat rolled her eyes and laughed. “Yes, Figanti,” she said. Her armor moved to cover her form, as did Renkan’s. “I'll see you soon, Renkan.” As she took off, Figanti established a link between their suits. ”I need you to go with a small task force to collect minerals, and to scout for their reach in the systems.” “And I assume you are giving me someone else to go with?” Renkan asked, leaping into the air and grabbing her dragon's saddle. ”Perhaps Yonok or Remek. Although Yonok might stay if he finds worthy replacements for the Oracles.” Renkan held on as her partner banked left to head for the exit. “When will we be leaving?” ”By the next few days. We still need time to plot what we know. In the meantime, work with the new healers. You were looking for me, yes?” “Yes… but I'll bring that up another time. I'm heading to the healer’s facilities.” Their link disconnected, and Renkan sighed as she looked out to the rest of the dens. There had been a time when she watched their homes be destroyed. Young Nera'ak had fought with their elders to protect their home, but even they couldn't withstand the onslaught. Their cries haunted her… and the screams of Signa who lost their eternal partners. They were the ones who no Signa could defeat. Their family and friends dead, their home, and their dragon. A Signa with nothing to lose was a warrior the gods would fear. Reku'un had become that Signa… but now he had his place. They all did, and it wouldn't be long before they reunited. The images of a burning planet receded from her memories, and instead she drank in the scene before her. Just like their home. Reku'un… on my honor as the 3rd League member… I will fight for you. Your children will not suffer as you or Loki'ir did. You have my word.