CHAPTER FORTY TWO
THE THREADS OF LIFE
The cave was cold, bitterly cold in fact. Chalk’s horn gave a good amount of light, but its glow was creating long wavering shadows that did little to help calm Bracken’s already unsettled emotional state. That bloody thing outside, what it had done to the minds…dear Goddess help them, this was a nightmare. He’d heard stories about such creatures when he was a foal, but he never thought that they actually existed – until River Valley. The wendigo he remembered from the tales were like some sort of emotional vampire: sucking your feelings from you and feeding on them, which certainly fit in with what was outside the cave, but…this one was different from the wendigo he’d seen on the battlefield. This thing was more…he searched for a word…’primitive’? Was that it? He wasn’t sure, but what he was sure of was that he wanted to put as much ground between it and them as quickly as equinely possible.
They trudged on, their hoof steps echoing along the icy walls, the chill biting into their fur and even making their lungs burn. Chalk peered into the darkness ahead,
“Hey Brack, you don’t think there are, y’know, other things living in here do you?”
The black pony shook his head, “Your guess is as good as mine, dude, but I’ve got my crossbow ready, I’ll tell you that much.” He looked at the walls and floor, “Honestly, I don’t think anything with any sense would be out here.”
“Like us, eh?” Chalk grinned.
Bracken laughed, “Ha! You get that right. I keep thinking my nuts have frozen off.”
Chalk paused, his hoof beginning to twitch. It was so cold, what if…what if they had? Oh, Goddesses! He wanted to check, but…
“Brack?”
He friend groaned, “They’re still there, in case you’re wondering.”
“Oh.” Chalk coughed, “Um…thanks.”
“Don’t mention it.” Bracken said rolling his eyes, “Just pull your bloody cloak over your arse will you? It’s bad enough being stuck in here without a full moon right in front my nose.”
Chalk used his magic to give his cloak a quick tug, the fabric dropping back into place. Damn it all, it was so cold he hadn’t even felt it rucking up under his armour. He snorted, trying to clear the ice crystals from his nostrils. They had to find a way out of here sooner or later, and as far as he was concerned, whether they found this Starswirl the Bearded fellow or not, they were getting the hell out of these mountains before they froze to death. Damn that bloody officer! He should have poisoned the miserable sod instead.
Bracken’s ears twitched. There was a movement in the air, it was barely perceptible, but there was definitely a faint breeze coming from just ahead. He went to speak to Chalk but the unicorn had already noticed it, his pace picking up as he arrowed straight for the source of their potential salvation. They found it quickly enough: it was little more than a crack, not in the rock wall, but in a solid block of ice and snow. If they dug at it, with a little time and effort, hopefully they’d be able to get out of here! Bracken shook his head at Chalk’s questioning look. As excited as he was to get out of here, they had to be careful - they didn’t have any idea just how much snow and ice lay above them. Snorting loudly, Bracken rubbed his hooves together. This was the domain of the earth pony, the ones who could listen to, and feel the earth around them. The walls, the rock, the ice, and even the snow, they were all part of nature, a part of their world. He closed his eyes and listened: feeling, reaching for the warmth of the sunlight and tracing the contours of the obstruction in the wall. Bracken finally nodded to himself, gently moving Chalk out of the way as he backed up, giving him a wink,
“And for my next trick…”
The black stallion’s buck was right on target. With just the right amount of applied forced, the rock and ice cracked and fell away, forming a ramp down into the tunnel with just enough room for them to wriggle out into the sunlight beyond. Best of all, there was no wind here, and no strange howling sounds either. He reached in to Chalk and hauled the relieved looking unicorn out into the light where the two of them gratefully shook off the snow.
“You okay?” he asked.
Chalk shook his head, “Let’s not keep doing this eh?” he groaned, “I think we’ve done our bit, Brack. There’s no bloody wizard out here, and theres sure as hell no other reason for us to be here other than for that crap house Fry sending us out to become frozen corpses.”
“I couldn’t agree more.” Bracken looked about at the endless nothingness of the mountains, “The question is, which way is back?”
The landscape was bleak, the endless fields of white snow occasionally interspersed with the grey of rocks, probably fallen from the mountains high above. There were no trees, no birds, no nothing. Bracken pulled out his compass,
“This way home my friend.”
Chalk was busy brushing the snow from his coat, “Which way’s that?”
“South” Bracken replied, “I don’t give a monkeys where, so long as it’s warmer than this frozen hell.”
“What, you don’t like holidaying in the mountains?” Chalk chuckled.
Bracken shrugged, “Mountains are for yaks, dude, and they’re bloody well welcome to ‘em.”
Chalk headed off with his friend along the rocky terrain, smiling. It felt good to have a direction at last, even if it did have a rather dubious destination. Worse, was that they were more than likely in hostile territory, looking for some guy nopony had ever heard of. More than once he’d found himself wishing he’d stayed…stayed with…He shook his head - No! No, Bracken was his friend, and there was no question here, no question at all. That bloody wendigo must have muddled his mind worse than he thought. Either that or he was going into hypothermic shock. Bloody mountains…
The wind had dropped to almost nothing now, the sky above them a pristine crystalline blue and looked so pure with the sun shining brightly, it was really quite beautiful. They’d been travelling for hours, but now the light was fading quickly as late afternoon approached. Chalk shrugged to himself; so much for their original plans to find Gretel in the mountains! What bloody madness had made them think that would have ever worked? He snorted. Yeah, what ‘idiot’ would have ever come up with that one? Letting out a sigh, he adjusted his kit and concentrated on putting one hoof in front of another, keeping his distance from Bracken and…
“Ow! Bloody hell, Brack, don’t just stop like that with no warning!”
Bracken was stood like a statue, staring off into the distance. His face was set, his body as rigid as the mountains themselves as he focussed on the movement in the snow.
“Damn…” Chalk sank to the ground, keeping his voice low, “What do you reckon it is?”
Bracken shook his head, “Pony, I think.”
“Out here?”
“Don’t know,” the black pony replied quietly, “but it’s not a thestral I don’t think - too small.”
Chalk kept as still as possible, “What now then? Should we follow it?”
“I want to see if the things friendly first,” Bracken whispered, “After our friend with the pixies, i’m a little reluctant to trust strangers.”
The two moved forward, keeping low and in single file. This time, Chalk took the lead. His eyes weren’t as keen as Bracken’s, but his colouring allowed him to blend into their surroundings. It helped too that their armour was covered in their grey-brown cloaks and the rest of their gear partly concealed by the surrounding snow. From a distance, the two ponies look like little more than part of the scenery. The figure in the distance didn’t appear to have noticed them either, as whoever, or whatever it was, walked along as though they were almost gliding across the snow. Keeping pace with it was rapidly becoming an issue.
“Chalky, you know, I’m not so sure that thing really is a pony after all,” Bracken hissed, “look at the speed it’s moving.”
“I know,” Chalk replied, keeping his gaze locked on the thing, “but if it’s going for shelter, we could sure as hell do with some too. We could end up freezing to death out here otherwise.”
Bracken shook his head in dismay. Chalk was right, but whatever this thing was, he was keeping himself alert just in case, and his crossbow to hoof. The memory of what that vile stallion Brindle did to them, the way they’d followed him so trustingly like sheep into what could have been an unimaginable end, would often enter his dreams in the depths of night. He hadn’t dreamt of the Princess in a while either, not since he’d met Nutmeg, and that in itself was another source of humiliation and self loathing wasn’t it? He’d awoken in the morning to find the young mare dismissive of him and completely disinterested, as though he were nothing more than a stranger, or more specifically, an unwanted guest. He’d left, wandering the capital until he’d found himself at the barracks. Good Goddess, he’d just walked in, signed the papers, and walked out, as simple as that. Five years in the service of the Princess and Equestria…but it wasn’t really for that reason though was it? He really just wanted…actually, what did he want? To forget? Yes…yes, he supposed he did really. Bracken snorted. What a time to be thinking about things like that!
“Psst!” Chalk had stopped and was hunkering down, “Brack! Theres something up ahead, look!”
“What?” Bracken whispered, trying to see past Chalk, “I can’t…oh, hell yes!”
The distant figure was heading for what was quite clearly a settlement or village of some kind. Whatever it was, was certainly sparse and looked to be little more than an assemblage of around a dozen or so low wooden buildings so covered in snow as to be nearly invisible from a distance. But at this angle, parts of the low walls were becoming clearer and woodsmoke was visible rising lazily from several chimneys. Bracken’s heart leapt, it was salvation! Food, warmth and…
A shriek cut through the landscape, followed by a loud animal roar of anger. Up ahead, the creature they’d been following had suddenly vanished, leaving only their tracks through the snow to mark their passing. Chalk looked back to Bracken, his eyes wide,
“Come on!”
“Chalky! Don’t just…” Bracken gritted his teeth, “Oh, For Luna’s sake!”
The two jumped up and charged through the snow, hurtling down through the white cloying material, their momentum only adding speed to their descent; their attempt to reach the source of the distress however, was rapidly becoming a problem in itself as the landscape was frighteningly deceptive. Running hard, Bracken and Chalk quickly found themselves all but rolling and falling down an increasingly steep slope - the only way to avoid falling seemed to be to keep up by running ever faster. Bracken’s heart was pounding in his chest like a hammer; at some point he knew he was going to have to throw himself over onto his side to arrest his descent, the very real possibility of falling into a ravine at the bottom of this slope all to clear in his mind’s eye. Damn this snow, all he could see was white! In front of him, Chalk ploughed on, his kit, packs and blanket bouncing along as he…disappeared.
Bracken yelled in fright as the ground abruptly dropped away from under him and he found himself falling, tumbling head over heels down a steep slope, the rocks and snow beneath biting into his exposed body as fell. Army training kicked in, and he tucked in his legs, making himself as tight a ball as he could. A break out here with no medical help could be fatal, and only the Goddess knew if help would ever find them, or even if they would bother looking. His stomach lurched as the physical ground fell away completely and he found himself dropping through nothing but air. Fear and adrenalin coursed through his body; this was it, this was the end… He’d wind up as nothing more than a broken and bloodied frozen heap, buried in the snow on some forgotten mountain range, taken away from this life by…
He slammed bodily into something large - a warm, furry ‘something’. Whatever it was, it was big, big and angry, letting out a deafening roar right in his ear. Bracken kicked out reflexively finding, to his surprise, that his body was still very much intact - if battered and bruised. Shaking the snow off himself, he reached for his crossbow as a large pair of glistening red eyes in a face full of teeth and naked aggression glare at him. Whatever it was, it was angry…very angry.
Desperately, Bracken tried to get his crossbow free, but the fall had hopelessly twisted all his gear to the point where he couldn’t reach it, and his sword was jammed somewhere near his hind leg too. He had two choices: buck the damned thing as hard as he could and run, or just…run, hoping that thing wouldn’t be on him, rending him into small pieces before he could regain his own senses. Damn it all! Even if he wanted to run, Chalk would no doubt be nearby and there was no way he was leaving his friend to this monstrous…whatever it was. He span, slamming his hooves into…thin air…
“Bit slow, buddy,” Chalk said, gasping for air as he reached his friend’s side. He was holding an unloaded crossbow in the glow of his magic, “nearly had you for dinner eh?”
“Ch..Chalky? Good Goddess…” Bracken gulped in air, trying to slow his heartrate down, “You okay?”
Chalk’s brows pulled down and he blinked,
“Um…no?”
Bracken pulled himself up looked round at his friend. He was battered, his kit lying in the snow near to a pile of what looked to be rags and…
“Oh Goddess, no…” Bracken felt his heart sink as he took in the sight of Chalk’s hind leg. It was broken, and badly by the looks of it. This wasn’t happening, none of it was! It was a nightmare, a bloody nightmare he’d wake up from and he’d be back in that cave, but…but Chalky looked like he was in pain and trying to put a brave face on it too as usual. What the hell was he going to do?! With a grunt, he began pulling off his hopeless twisted gear and searched for the first aid kit.
“I don’t think that’s…g…going to help, dude,” Chalk gasped, “I…I think I’m…”
“Shut up!” Bracken near shouted, “Don’t you dare talk crap like that! I’m going to do something, even if I have to drag you out of here.” He began searching through his packs, finding only items suitable for cuts and sprains, not breaks. Dear Goddess in her bloody heaven, he had to think of something! Quickly, he found some pain killers, several minty tablets that warned of ‘not exceeding’ whatever it was, but right then it was at least something that would help. Helping Chalk down them with some water, Bracken looked for something they could use as a splint - anything would do, so long as it did the job. He didn’t hear the shouts behind him until a spear point was waved in front of his face.
“Don’t move, Celestian, if you value your life.”
Bracken froze, looking up into the face of a dark grey and brown stallion with chocolate brown eyes, heavily cloaked against the cold. Was he the one they’d been following? Bracken’s eyes flicked towards the movement to his side, revealing several more of the cloaked figures who appeared to be investigating the bundle of rags which turned out to be…oh no…a young colt…
Bracken swallowed, “Is he?”
The stallion didn’t look round, “Lucky for you, no, the boy is hurt but alive.”
Another of the cloaked ponies walked up and addressed the first one,
“Jal, the elder will want to see these two. One has a broken leg and is little threat to us.”
“Celestians?” The first stallion snarled, “You deal with them then, Hesta.”
‘Jal’ turned away, shouldering his spear and walked off leaving the others who quickly surrounded Chalk. A mare, by the looks of her, approached Bracken, her yellow eyes gleaming in the light from the setting sun,
“You can walk?” she asked.
“I…yes, yes I can,” Bracken said, nodding, “thank you.”
“Don’t thank me Celestian,” the mare replied rather abruptly, “pick up your equipment and follow me. The elder will want to see you.”
“But, Chalky, my friend…”
“The unicorn?” The mare gave a low nicker, “The marked one will also be brought before the elder.”
Bracken picked himself up and collected his gear, “Who are you?”
“If you have the energy to ask questions, then you have the strength to walk.” The mare replied as if quoting a saying of some sort. She nodded towards Chalk who was being placed in a sling held between two of the cloaked ponies. He looked pale, not easy when your coat’s already white. Bracken was worried, but at least they weren’t just leaving him here. The young one, the one they’d rather fortuitously ‘helped’, in a manner of speaking, was being helped along by another of the cloaked ponies.
“Hesta!” one of them called, “What are we doing about the Yarra?”
“Leave it for now,” the mare with Bracken shouted back, “we’ll come back later. It will feed us well.”
“F…feed? You ponies eat meat?” Bracken blurted out in shock.
“You would prefer to starve to death, Celestian?” Hesta replied loftily, “Then be my guest.”
Bracken felt a shiver run through him. He shouldn’t really be interacting too much with these ponies - it wasn’t what he’d been taught in training. ‘If captured, keep your mouth shut’, and that was about it really. It didn’t quite cover situations like this! He was being watched, certainly, but at least they didn’t have their weapons drawn and they were helping Chalky, so maybe…maybe it was more like a rescue? Luna protect them, he hoped so. What kept running through his mind though, was that they ate meat! Thank the Goddess they still had their rations. With luck, they’d last until they could get out of here and re-supply.
Snow crunching under hoof, the party headed towards the nearby village. The cloaked ponies kept disturbingly quiet, keeping their cloaks pulled in tight around themselves. Bracken couldn’t help but feel a shiver every now and again, and it probably had nothing to do with the cold. He tried to take his mind off it by marvelling at the surprising ease with which these ponies moved across the terrain. Upon closer examination, it appeared they had some sort of wicker work basket or tray - it was hard to see - but there was definitely something attached to their hooves that prevented them from sinking into the snow they way he was. He’d have to have a better look later.
Later came all too soon. The village was half buried in snow, with tracks cut through it allowing access to the various doors, outbuildings and supply sheds that were all but invisible from a distance. Bracken followed the two carrying Chalk into one of one of the sturdy looking buildings. They were constructed, by the looks of them, from huge timbers. Where they got the wood from out here was anyponies guess, but they certainly looked like they could last the test of time – and the weather. Out in the mountains they probably had little choice in the matter. Inside, the room was fairly plain. A bed sat in the corner, covered, rather worryingly, in what appeared to be fur of the same type as the grey and white beast that had attacked them. A fire was burning in the corner, but it wasn’t wood, it was…something else, something…pungent. His nose twitched. It was probably best not to enquire further, especially as he had a horrible feeling he knew what it was. Beside the bed was a table and shelving covered in bottles, jars, ropes and goodness knows what else. It looked…’arcane’ almost. The skulls really added to the disturbing ambience, Bracken thought to himself nervously.
A musty smelling curtain was pushed aside and an equally musty old mare walked in, her matted black fur so long Bracken wondered if it was a yak. Deep maroon eyes, half hidden in the jungle of fur, locked onto the shaking figure on the bed. She shook her head,
“A marked one.” She said dismissively, “Cast it onto the mountainside, we will make a sacrifice to the Goddess to ward off its evil once the snows pass.”
Bracken stood in amazement, his mouth agape. What had she just said? Two of the ponies moved to collect Chalk before the words of that old mare finally sank in.
“Like hell you are!” He shoved them out of the way, standing beside Chalk and dropped into a fighting stance, “You throw him out there and he’ll die. What sort of monsters are you to do that to another pony?”
The two cloaked ones stared at him from under their cowels but didn’t move. Around them the room fell silent and then, almost imperceptibly, all attention shifted to the old mare. She was the true power here, and one word from her and Bracken knew, they’d be on him. Even so, there was no chance of him letting them take him without a fight. They’d even rather carelessly left him his sword.
“Violence is not permitted in the village, child of the Goddess.” The mare said in her smooth voice as if reading his mind, “The marked one must be cast out. His kind can only bring the wrath of the white witch down upon us.”
Bracken stomped a hoof, “What a load of bollocks! Chalky’s just like you and me, and how you expect Celestia to…”
“-DON’T SAY THAT NAME HERE!”
Weapons suddenly hissed from sheaths around them, the atmosphere dropping sharply,
“Are you a complete imbecile?!” the long haired mare snapped, “What sort of fool invokes the witch’s name here?” she advanced on him, her expression darkening, “You are…” the mare stopped, staring deeply into his eyes, “No…you are not of our people, and yet…” she stepped back suddenly, her ears twitching, “Get out!” she waved her hooves at the other cloaked ponies, “All of you, get out of here! Now!”
The rest look as confused as Bracken was, but obediently backed out of the door, watching warily him as they went. He knew without a shadow of a doubt they wouldn’t be far away, and only so much as a shout from the black mare would have them all barrelling back in here hell bent on bloody retribution; ‘no violence’ be damned!
The strange mare looked at Bracken askance, her expression of surprise quickly transforming into one of intense curiosity. She glanced down at his friend,
“Strange it is, that two such as you should travel together, hmm?” she nodded towards Chalk, “A child of the day, and a child of the night? Most strange indeed.”
The words of the mare washed over him like so much air. What was important was lying on the bed looking for all the world like he was preparing to leave this one. Bracken gritted his teeth, trying to sound pleasant yet firm,
“Look, Miss, please, can you help my friend? He’s in a bad way.”
“Hmm?”
The mare gave him a half smile, her expression oddly knowing, although what she actually did know, as yet remained to be seen. She raised an eyebrow,
“Your friend…the marked one…” lifting a hoof up to the shelf, she took down a thin wooden framework of beads and feathers, all intertwined, the whole coming together to create some peculiar maze of shapes and forms that made Bracken’s head ache just to look at it. “He is near death,” she said quietly, “the guardians of the gateway are readying themselves to accept his soul.”
“I don’t give a flying buck about that!” Bracken snapped, beginning to pace anxiously, “Please! I’ll do anything, just…just help him…” his voice began to crack, “…please.”
“’Anything’” The mare replied with a derisive sniff, “You should not use such words so readily, child of the moon, for words carry a weight and power far beyond their mere utterance.” She closed her eyes a moment, murmuring words in a language that was so gutteral it made Bracken’s chest vibrate. A few seconds later she looked round at him and sighed, “It is up to him now.”
Bracken’s heart leapt into his mouth, “What? I thought you were going to help him!”
The mare tossed her mane and walked over to the fireplace, her voice sounding tired and strained,
“I already have”
Bracken sank to his haunches and stared at his friend’s weakened figure on the bed and went to pull the blanket up around him. It was cold enough without…
“Don’t go near him!” The mare suddenly snapped, “Dear Goddess, how have you stayed alive this long, child?” she shook her head in disbelief, “Can’t you…?” she paused, “No…no I supposed you cannot, can you?”
“Can’t what?” Bracken asked, stepping away from the bed.
The mare rolled her eyes. At least it looked like she did, but it was hard to tell beneath the thick mat of hair, “You are not from our tribe, nor our people. We are born to know things that your people have forgotten. It is such a shame.”
“I don’t about any of that,” Bracken said rubbing his face, “I think I’ve seen things nopony in their right mind would want to see.” He looked into the flames of the fire, “I sure as hell never wanted to.”
A cup of some hot spicy drink suddenly appeared in front of Bracken’s muzzle, the mare holding it out to him in her hooves,
“What is your name, child of the moon?”
“Me? Bracken, Miss?” he replied.
“Neira” the mare said lifting her own cup, “Drink. It will ease your spirit and revive your life energy.”
Sipping the drink, the tang of fruit, sharp and almost bitter, hit his tongue like a razor blade, making him wince at the strange taste. Following in on the back of that was a warm, spicy hint of cinnamon and several other unusual flavours he couldn’t put his hoof on. It wasn’t particularly pleasant, but its effects were almost immediate. Heat flashed through him, sending it tingling radiance throughout his body. He’d never had anything like this! He felt…light, alert, almost buoyant!
A hoof touched his shoulder, “Bracken, do you feel better now?”
“I…yes, yes I do!” he said honestly, “I feel wonderful!”
“Good…” the mare smiled, “Now take off all that encumbrance and let me look at you, and see you as the Goddess intended.”
Bracken paused a moment; ‘As the Goddess intended’? He shrugged. It was just the old mare’s way of speaking he guessed, but still, taking all his equipment off would leave him vulnerable in case…in case what? She attacked him? Sniffing, he shook off his doubts. Where could he go anyway? Chalk’s life was in their hooves, as indeed was his. Compliantly, Bracken removed his cloak, armour, weapons and gear, stacking them as neatly as he could in the corner of the room. In a way it was a relief to get them off, but still…
“Hmm.” The mare, Neira, walked up to him, inspecting him as if he were some prize animal. Her hooves glided over him, poking, prodding, lifting his legs and checking his hooves, his mane, even his tail. Some of this was becoming very strange indeed, and where she was prodding now was making him feel distinctly uncomfortable! Eventually, moving around to his other side, Neira checked his ears and finally, of all things, his teeth, “You are in fine condition, it would seem.” She nodded to herself, “Yes…very fine.”
“Neira?” Bracken asked politely, “Thank you for…whatever it is you’re doing to help us. I don’t have much to repay you with but…”
“Repay me?” Neira looked surprised, “Do your people not help those in need? Why would there need to be a payment?” she actually appeared genuinely puzzled.
Bracken blushed, “Well, I mean, you were going to leave him on the mountainside to die at first and I…”
Neira let out a nicker, “-And well it would have been if I should have done so.”
Bracken’s eyebrows shot up.
“It’s like explaining why water is wet to a foal…” Neira grumbled. She took a sip of her drink and sighed, “Your friend is a child of the sun,” she pointed to her head with her hoof, “a marked one, a ‘unicorn’” she gave Bracken a knowing look and let out a loud sigh at his baffled expression, “Look at his colours!”
“He’s white? So what?” the confused stallion replied.
“He has the appearance of the white witch, Bracken, can you not see that?” Neira threw her forelegs up in exasperation at his ignorance, “These creatures are a cause of misfortune, and great tragedy follows in the hoof steps.” She shook her head, “Magic is the domain of the Goddess and not for mortals - it is an evil thing.” She closed her eyes, “I fear I may have brought doom upon our tribe by helping this one.”
“Look, I don’t know what all this ‘child of the moon and sun’ stuff is about, but Chalky’s just a regular unicorn for the Goddess’ sake. I mean, look at him! He’s more danger to himself than anypony else!” Bracken snorted, “Come on Neira, its not like unicorn’s are rare. There’ll be plenty in your tribe, so…”
“-There are no unicorns in our tribe.”
“…theres…” Bracken stopped and stared, “What? None?”
“There are no unicorns in our tribe.” Neira repeated solemnly.
“But, what if one’s born? It’s not unusual for…”
“-I said there are NO unicorns in our tribe!” Neira suddenly snapped, her eyes flashing dangerously, “There are no marked ones here, do you understand? Do NOT speak to me of this again!”
Bracken’s ears flopped, his head hanging, “I’m sorry, Neira…”
She snorted loudly, “There are some subjects that we do not talk about, child of the moon, and that is one of them.”
“I understand.” Bracken could feel there was more to this, but changing the subject quickly seemed like the best course of action right then, “Why do you call me ‘Child of the Moon’? I’ve heard that before. Mum mentioned it but I never really asked.”
“Your mother was probably trying to protect you.” Neira explained, throwing another pile of, ‘something’, onto the fire, “Your people obviously have very short memories. Either that or a wanton desire to forget their own heritage.” Neira trotted over to a rack of thick rug-like cloaks, “Here…” she passed one to Bracken as she continued, “The children of the night are those, quite simply, who were born when the sign of our Goddess was in the sky above their heads.” She poked him with a hoof, “You are one.” With a sigh, Neira cocked her head towards the still figure of Chalk, “The same is true for those born under the sign of the witch.”
“Its pretty much what I’ve heard,” Bracken replied, scratching his chin, “but I never had much time for religious stuff. Anyway, loads of ponies are born at night and they’ve never had any trouble.”
“You know that for a fact, do you? Hmm?” Neira chortled, “You would not be so certain with your response if you had been one of the tribe.”
“Who are you ponies, Neira?” Bracken set down his cup, “Really, I mean, living out here in the Equestrian mountains?”
She snorted, “And why are you here, Bracken, child of the moon?”
He said nothing.
“And so you have your answer.” Neira stretched her back and legs, “Now, I must set your friends leg. The threads of the weave are already in place.” She scratched her chin thoughtfully, “Interesting.”
“What is?” Bracken felt the conversation was less for him and more for her.
“Questions, questions, questions!” Neira clucked her tongue, “Be quiet pony and do what I tell you.”
At the peculiar mare’s directions, Bracken worked. Between them they began to reset the bones, binding and strapping the broken leg with splints and what looked like some kind of skin…’leather’ he believed it was called. Neira spoke as she worked, occasionally muttering to herself as she did so,
“It is not so often ponies listen to me any more. Once, there was a near constant flood of them at my door asking me for help: problems with births, problems with marriages, problems with everything!” She laughed, “Problems, problems, problems!”
Time passed. Inside the stout wooden cabin, the long haired mare and her new assistant finally left Chalk alone on the bed to rest. His colour was back at least, but he’d been unconscious the whole time they’d been working on him. Perhaps it was just as well. Some of the sounds his bones had made as Neira had pulled and pushed on his leg had made Bracken feel like he was going to throw up.
He shook his head, letting out a soft sigh. Here they were again; lost, cold and in trouble - relying on the help of others who, by the grace of Luna, were helping them. The worst of all of this though, was that it was really his fault. If he hadn’t joined back up, then Chalk wouldn’t have followed him and they wouldn’t have ended up here. Now his best friend had nearly died after he’d left his beloved mare to follow him. Bracken closed his eyes. Goddess in her mercy, he felt like crying. A hoof against his shoulder made him look up suddenly,
“Do not look so troubled, young one, your friend will live.”
Bracken tried to smile, “It’s not that, I mean, it is, but…oh Goddess…” he gritted his teeth, furious with himself, “It’s my fault we’re here!”
“Oh?”
“I wanted to get away, I wanted to escape that bloody world I was trapped in and find something…something ‘else’, something that was just for me and me alone. I’ve been following Chalky around like a bloody sheep all this time and now, now it’s all gone to crap!” He squeezed his eyes shut and rubbed his muzzle, “Goddess damn it, it’s all my fault.”
Neira walked over to the kettle and poured another cup of the spicy drink for them both,
“Blaming yourself for the decisions of others is a tree that yields no fruit, hmmm?” the old mare reached forward and pulled the long thick cloak around Bracken’s shoulders, “Your friend is an adult, Bracken, he had a choice, as do we all. No matter how dire the circumstances, we always have a choice.” She stared wistfully into her steaming cup, “Even if that choice is to do nothing.”
Bracken took a sip of his drink, “I’m sorry, Neira, we don’t know each other and here I am blathering on about my troubles. Forgive me.”
“Did you ever find your ‘something else’?” Neira asked quietly.
“No…” he snorted, letting out an ironic laugh, “I don’t think there’s anything out there to find.”
Neira shook her head, “Many think like that at your age.” She smiled, “Patience is something that few have in good supply, and the young have the least of all.”
Bracken said nothing. What could he say? He didn’t know this mare, he didn’t know these people, and here he was opening his heart as if he’d known her all his life! Good Goddess, what the hell was he doing? He tried to change the subject,
“These cloaks are warm.” He said, snugging his around him a little more. He lifted it up and sniffed it. It wasn’t exactly unpleasant, but it was a little musty…sort of…animal like? “These…they are woven, aren’t they?”
“Woven?” Neira looked at him in surprise, “Do you see any animals here?”
“No, but you could trade and…”
“-It’s yak.” The black mare cut in.
“Yak?” Bracken felt a shiver run down his spine, but held his tongue. The look he received from Neira told him that criticising her people, or their ‘customs’ would not be wise. Besides, she had been very hospitable, and…it was so warm…
She snorted out a laugh, her eyes glinting beneath her fur, “Hungry?”
“Yes!” he said lifting his head and then suddenly froze, “Er…actually, Neira, you’ve done too much for me already. I’ll use my rations, don’t worry.”
Neira sniffed, “As you please.” She took out a few jars and packages from a cupboard, “However, I believe you may require those for your trip home, will you not?”
“Yes, but…”
Neira shrugged, “Do you normally refuse the hospitality of a host in your homeland, Bracken?”
“No!” Bracken lifted his hoof up in protest, “Please, Neira, you don’t understand.”
“Don’t I?” she asked.
“No, look, we don’t eat meat.” Bracken tried to explain, “I’ve never eaten it. If you had some vegetables then sure, but…”
Neira let out an exasperated sound, “Then just eat the vegetables!” Neira said rolling her eyes, “Foals!” she moved Bracken to one side and began adding root vegetables and herbs to a pot which had been simmering beside the kettle since he came in. The smells quickly began to tickle enticingly at his nose and made him feel a rush of anticipation, despite his initial apprehension.
The mare stirred the pot, and every now and again casting him a glance with an oddly knowing smile half hidden in that thick fur. Bracken felt like a character from a story book; one his mother had read to him so many years ago. It was about a spider, one who would entice the unwary into her web with kindness and offers of rewards, only to put them in her pot. He wondered how many sentient beings had ended up in Neira’s? He swallowed, but still…his stomach growled. Items soon appeared that were now sizzling in a pan. More spices were added, more herbs, all swirling and making him salivate. Goddess above, he was so hungry! Army rations be damned, he could eat a…Oh, Luna’s arse! Why was he thinking like this?
Neira smiled, “Do you have a mare, Bracken? Any foals of your own?”
He shook his head, his attention more on the food than Neira’s question.
“But there was one, wasn’t there?” she asked.
Bracken nodded, his mind distant, his fur tingling beneath the thick cloak.
“What was her name?”
“Pickles.” He said absently.
Neira smiled, “A pony name.” She added a pinch of salt to the pot, “But there is another, is there not? One who holds your heart in her hooves, singing you softly to sleep while you drift into the dream world, safe once more for another day.”
Bracken furrowed his brow, taking a sip of his now cooling tea, “No…there’s…” he stared at her, his eyes suddenly widening, “Divine Majesty?”
The mare smiled and laughed, “Who?” she returned to stirring the pot, “Kind of you to think of me in such a manner!” Neira shook with mirth, before wiping her muzzle with her foreleg, “I’m sorry, Bracken, but it’s written all over you face. I can even see it in your aura.” She tapped him on the nose, “You are loved, very much indeed. Perhaps, you don’t fully realise this yet.”
“I…” Bracken let out an involuntary nicker, the memory of azure eyes flooded his mind; those large orbs in a face as dark as midnight, her mane flowing with magic like smoke in a gentle breeze. She was…magnificent, so sleek, so elegant, her wings as soft as velvet and her horn…he shivered. He shouldn’t be thinking about this, he shouldn’t!
“Who is this ‘Divine Majesty’, Bracken?” Neira asked with a smile, “I am intrigued; is she a lady? Perhaps some dignitary?”
“It’s just a pet name,” Bracken said quickly, “Her name’s really Ni…Night…M…Rain.” He coughed, “Night Rain.”
“Oh, I see.” Neira said quietly, “Forgive an old mare’s questions, young Bracken. I lead a rather solitary existence these days, and gossip and chatter are the only pleasures I have now.” She shrugged, “Soon I will be leaving to be with our Goddess and all my knowledge, all my stories, will be passed down through the next generation of our people.”
Bracken hung his head in silence. He didn’t know Neira, and yet her words seemed so sad, despite the look on her face. She seemed to be actually looking forward to…dying. He felt like pulling the cloak over his head and curling into a ball. He just wanted to go home.
“Here, eat it while it’s hot, it will do you good.” Neira passed him a bowl and went to check on Chalk while she left hers to cool a little.
“Neira, does your tribe have a name?” Bracken asked.
“Tribe?” she huffed, “We’re not a primitive people, Bracken, although…” she looked back at him a moment, “maybe in some respects we are now, so much has changed since I was a foal.” Shaking her head, Neira brushed her mane to one side, “It doesn’t really matter. We are who we are.” She examined Chalks leg and nodded to herself, satisfied with their work from earlier, “Your ‘people’ have various names for us, the ‘Children of the night’ being the most polite of them. But let me ask you a question, Bracken,” she leaned closer to him, “Which tribe do you belong to?”
“Me? I don’t belong to a tribe,” Bracken said, slightly bemused by her question, “I’m Equestrian, we all are.”
“Yes…” Neira said meaningfully, “We all are.”
Bracken nodded slowly. She was right; despite their unusual outward appearance, they really were all Equestrians. He took a breath and let it out slowly as he contemplated her words. Hairy, Neira’s people may be, but these ponies, were exactly that: ponies; they even spoke the same language. Placing his empty bowl on the hearth, he took one of the rolls and munched on it thoughtfully,
“I’d heard there were lost tribes.” He said, “Mum used to tell me about them when I was a foal; that they were the ones who had left after the wars of the three tribes, to form their own home in the light of the moon of Princess Luna.” He licked his lips, savouring each crumb, “Not many ponies talk about history, they’re more interested in what’s happening in the present.”
“Ha!” Neira barked out a laugh, “Very true! And also, true of our own people.” She passed him another roll, “Ponies are ponies, be they my people or yours, born under the sun or the moon, all of us have a common bond, Bracken. Being self centred is not a unique trait.” She shook her mane, “Still, it is our actions that show our worth, not just words.”
“But words still carry power, Neira.” Bracken said.
“Good!” Neira poked him with her hoof, her eyes sparkling, “You learn quickly, young Bracken. Hmm, perhaps you would make a fine apprentice…perhaps…” she gave him an odd look, “Yes…”
Bracken suddenly belched and raised his hoof to his mouth in apology, “Pardon!”
“Good?” Neira chuckled, returning to her own meal.
“It was delicious.” Bracken said licking the crumbs from his mouth happily, “You’re an incredible cook, Neira.”
“Am I?” she smiled, “You’re a flatterer.”
“No, really,” Bracken leaned back, rubbing his full stomach, “that was amazing.”
“Hmm. For all your protestations earlier, you certainly put those rolls away.” Neira nodded to herself, “It’s good to see a stallion enjoying my food, and it does justice to the spirits of those that have passed to give us their strength to live on.”
Bracken smiled and groaned, he felt so warm, and sleepy too. His eyes felt a little droopy, but…wait…what? He sat up straight, his eyes locked on Neira,
“Those that have passed?”
“Of course.” The mare replied, “We use their coats to keep us warm, and share their bodies with ours to…”
“-Their coats?! Their bodies?!” Bracken could feel his heart rate increasing. He lifted the cloak and stared at it. If he looked closely, he could see where the yaks legs had been, where…where…oh Goddess. His heart was in his mouth now, “Neira…” he said in a bare whisper, “What happened to the yak?” he suddenly felt cold, “The one who this cloak…”
Neira shrugged, taking a bite of her roll. She chewed it for while, watching him as she did so, before swallowing it and giving him an innocent look,
“You’ve been eating him.”
“Oh! Oh, dear sweet Goddess…what have I…?” Bracken’s stomach lurched, the room spinning as he felt his insides heave, “I…”
“I must say, Bracken,” Neira said pleasantly as she took another a bite, “He really is delicious. “ She lifted the remains of the roll, “Wouldn’t you agree? Such a rich taste. Must be the fat in the meat that…” she furrowed her brow, “Bracken? Bracken are you alright?”
Neira leaned over and pulled the cloak over the unconscious black stallion and sighed. He’d be alright after a sleep. She put some more peat on the fire and yawned. It was cold out tonight, but it was good to have some company. Taking some of the furs from the bed, she walked over to Bracken and threw a few more over him. For a moment, she hesitated, but then, with a shrug at her own intransigence, Neira lay down and crawled under the furs, snuggling up to Bracken and sharing his warmth. It was their way, their tradition, to sleep beside each other and share their body heat. Neira grinned to herself. It had been a long time since anypony had wanted to share their warmth with her, but the young stallion wouldn’t mind. She sighed. It was only for a few minutes…just a few…
Morning came with little fanfare. Here, the days were just as short as they were in the heartlands, the bitter chill of winter made even keener by the unforgiving wind that blew through the village. This high up had some advantages though, Bracken thought to himself, for example how the clouds appeared to actually be below them and the sky above as blue as blue could be. It was really quite beautiful, in a minimalistic sort of fashion. Neira walked up beside him, the way the wind caught her mane making her already wild appearance look even more untamed than before,
“What do you think?”
“It has a beauty all of its own.” Bracken replied honestly, “Is this why you stay here?”
“It is,” Neira said, adjusting her pack, “but the others only winter here. They go further north when summer arrives.”
“So this village is only used during winter?” he shook his head, “It must be really bad further north.”
The old mare nodded, gesturing for Bracken to follow, “The weather there can flense the hide right off your bones. Here, it’s a little more tolerable.” She sighed, “I’m too old to make the journey these days, so they leave enough food and supplies here for me to tide me over until they return.”
“That’s…that’s awful,” Bracken said in surprise, “they leave you here all alone?”
“Pah! Who would want to stay with an old wrinkly mare?” Neira chuckled, “You don’t know how wonderful peace and quiet can truly be until you lose it. I had years of screaming foals and griping ponies to contend with until I was finally left in peace.” She trudged on through the snow, “Come, I will show you something that may help you in your quest.”
Bracken blinked in surprise, “My quest?”
Neira looked over her shoulder, a sly smile crossing her face,
“For ‘Something else’.”
The two ponies walked in single file through the snow, down what appeared to be a gully of some kind and into an area that felt, much to Bracken’s surprise, to be quite warm – or at least warmer than he had been. Up ahead, he began to see wisps of white smoke rising from between the rocks, the snow beginning to thin out and the smoke…no, no it wasn’t smoke, it was…steam, clouds of it hanging in the air like fog. It really was beginning to become warmer now, and his cloak was starting to feel decidedly uncomfortable. Neira however, carried on as if nothing was out of the ordinary, while occasionally looking back over her shoulder to make sure he was still following her. Bracken began to see how a clear path had been laid between the steaming rocks, trodden no doubt, by numerous hooves over many years. Interspersed between the rocks were…pools, quite literally, pools of steaming water that had a sulphurous scent to them that made him sneeze loudly. He snorted, eliciting a laugh from the black mare up ahead. She was peering back at him through the thick white steam, beckoning him on; all he could really do now…was follow.
Bracken tried covering his muzzle with his cloak to keep the worst of the damp out, but it was hopeless - the soaking white clouds were everywhere and soaked into his fur, his nose…everything. And then, almost as quickly as they had appeared, the billowing white clouds thinned out revealing something so incredible Bracken found himself rooted to the spot, staring in open mouthed amazement at the sight before him. It was a cavern, and it was…huge. Stalagtites and stalagmites of a size he’d never seen before gave the immense open space an otherwordly feeling, as though he had stepped through the fog into another world. There was a light here too, a sort of phosphorescent glow that seemed to emanate from the very rock itself. It was strangely beautiful, and yet so incredibly ‘different’, Bracken was left speechless.
“Come on, take all of that off.” Neira said impatiently while disrobing nearby, “Or are you going to bathe fully clothed?”
Bracken rolled his eyes and began taking off his cloak, leg wrappings and other accoutrements he’d brought with them. Not least of which was his sword which he kept to hoof, just in case another one of those bloody things appeared that had nearly had them for dinner on the mountainside. He was still angry with Neira for the roll incident too, but really, he supposed it was his fault. After all, he was the one who’d eaten it when she’d already given him a bowl of stew. Horribly, and rather guiltily, he’d actually…enjoyed it. He gave himself a shake as the last of his clothing came loose. Luna have mercy, he’d be having nightmares about it for years, YEARS!
Bracken watched the hairy mare pile her clothes neatly and step towards the edge of the nearest pool. Despite the beauty of the glowing crystalline rocks structures and the warmth of the cavern, it was the strangeness of the mare that caught his attention, and her cutie mark. Neira cleared her throat,
“Do like my rump, Bracken?” She gave it a shake, flicking her tail around, “As much I find you admiring me flattering, I am old enough to be your grandmother.”
The black stallion lifted his forehoof in surprise, his face flushing bright red, “Neira! No! Good Goddess, I…I’m sorry, I was only looking at your cutie mark!” he hung his head, his ears flopping in embarrassment, “I’m sorry, that was…rude of me.”
Neira harrumphed, tossing her mane, “And there I was thinking I still had my looks.” She looked away, an expression of sadness passing across her face.
Bracken stepped forward quickly, lifting his hoof towards her in apology, but she turned back with a beaming grin,
“Got you.”
“Hey!” Bracken stomped his hoof in annoyance at the amused chuckling of the old mare as she wiped the tears of mirth from her eyes.
“Oh Bracken!” she laughed, “You are much more fun than those miseries in the village!” She stepped down into the pool, letting the water ease its way up her legs, her underside and then finally up to her neck with a groan of relief. Neira gave Bracken a look as he walked into the pool and sat down a respectful distance away from her, “Joking aside my young friend, is my mark so much of a surprise to you? You have one too.”
Splashing some water onto his muzzle, Bracken moaned softly as the water began to warm his skin and soak away his aches and pains. He half closed his eyes, staring up at the long spires of crystal and rock around them, letting his mind wander. Neira’s cutie mark had been a surprise: it was a spiral in pure white with what appeared to be a dark blue cloud behind it. He’d never seen anything like it - it was almost…cryptic. He nodded to himself. Yes…cryptic was a good word.
“I wasn’t sure you’d have one,” he said honestly, “being from beyond the normal boundaries of Equestria. I mean, I know nothing about your people really.”
“You didn’t know if i’d have a cutie mark?” Neira shook her head, “Probably expected me to have two heads as well did you?” She gave him a look that suggested he wasn’t meant to answer. The mare sighed, “My name, ‘Neira’, it means ‘Spire’ in old Equestrian. My parents wanted me to follow in their footsteps as village elders - a respected position of authority within our ‘tribe’. Being a young filly at the time it wasn’t the path I would have chosen myself of course, but it was the one that I ended up with nonetheless.”
“You’re the village elder?!” Bracken said suddenly, sitting up.
“Didn’t they tell you?” Neira raised an eyebrow, “Does it trouble you?”
Bracken thought for a moment and then shook his head, “I…No, no it doesn’t.” he answered honestly.
Neira smiled. The water splashed gently around her as she closed her eyes and allowed herself to float; her body rising until, lying on her back, she rose to just below the surface of the water with her legs in the air. Bracken couldn’t help but stifle a laugh at the ridiculous spectacle. He watched her watching him and suddenly realised he liked her. She was kind, a little odd maybe, perhaps even eccentric, but in her own way she was a mare who he felt comfortable to be around. He shrugged, and twisted around until he too was able to drift up, allowing the water carry his weight. It was an incredible experience…and strange - the cooler air contrasting against the warmth, and the feeling of weightlessness. Bracken groaned in ecstasy…Goddess above this was amazing…simply…amazing…
A hoof under his head brought him round with a start,
“Time to get out.”
“Eh? I was just…”
“No arguments,” Neira admonished, “if you spend too long, you can fall asleep and that’s dangerous.” She pointed at his hooves, “Hot water can lead to soft hooves if they’re in for too long, and the last thing you want is a cracked hoof in the mountains.”
Bracken nodded, obediently following the hairy mare out of the water and over to the packs where they removed two rough towels. It was good to be out, but the cooler air was quickly beginning to become noticeable. Towelling off, Bracken suddenly jumped when he felt something against his mane. It was Neira.
“Hold still!” she mumbled around the comb, “I can’t do this when you’re fidgeting like you have worms.”
He sat there, feeling the brush running through his mane, pulling out the tangles that had accumulated over days, if not weeks of neglect. In the army, having your mane and tail short was a given, but being out here ‘in the field’, the last thing on his mind was brushing. Instead, staying fed and warm was given priority, but personal grooming…he let out a moan of pleasure…by the Goddess that felt good. His mind quickly began to wander, his thoughts taking a path of their own, leading him to images of a sea green mare with a pink mane and deep yellow eyes, morphing as if it was as natural as water falling from the sky, to the lithe form of Nightmare Moon, the dark Goddess, the dread Princess of the night…
A clop across his rump made him jump,
“We take turns in grooming at the pools.”
Neira huffed out a breath, sinking to the ground onto her towel as Bracken took up the brush and set to work. He had to admit it was oddly therapeutic, not just for the one being groomed, naturally, but for the groomer themselves. The rhythmic, long strokes through the mare’s tail were almost hypnotic. Her mane itself was long, and almost as black as her coat, but with the odd flecks of silver running through it here and there, a sure sign of Neira’s advancing years. She was a fascinating female and one, he realised, he’d been exceptionally lucky to meet, and not just because she’d saved Chalk. Bracken sighed. He felt strangely comfortable here; a sense of peace and acceptance he hadn’t felt since the first time he’d met…Pickles…he shook his mane and squeezed his eyes shut against the intrusive memories. Goddess above…every time he felt like something was going right, ‘bang’! Another memory comes along to slam into him and remind him that he’s alone in the world. Perhaps this was fate, maybe emptiness was all that he was destined for - that, and to be some sort of bizarre plaything for Nightmare Moon. Sometimes, he wondered if it was all worth it. Sometimes, it seemed to be just so much effort, he just wanted to let go… He sighed, opening his eyes and…
“Wah!”
Bracken jumped back as a large pair of maroon eyes filled his vision.
“Wake up!” Neira bopped him on the head with her hoof, “Come on, time to go. The heats got to you already.” She collected her clothes and gear and walked away to a cooler spot to change, “And you with a short coat too,” she muttered, “I don’t know how you survived…”
Bracken said nothing, the memory of his melancholy dissipating like the heat. He checked his hooves and marvelled at how clean everything appeared, and…he felt great! Luna’s hairy arse, if this was all it took to change his mood, then he’d happily live here with Neira and…he stopped, staring at his cloak on the floor. He could, couldn’t he? He could desert the army, maybe give Chalky some cock and bull story for them, tell them he’d died in the mountains and then that would be that. He’d be up here, living simply, working with Neira, helping her collect things for her concoctions and for their meals. He smiled to himself. It was so simple! He nodded to himself. He’d have a think about it and ask her tomorrow and, if she agreed, then maybe, just maybe, he could stay here as her apprentice. Bracken shrugged to himself. It was a long shot of course, not to mention the fact that he knew next to nothing about her or her people, but for some reason he just couldn’t put his hoof on, he felt…welcomed here. Of course, that could just be down to Neira - the others hadn’t seemed so sure. Come to think of it, he hadn’t seen much of the rest of the villagers since he’d arrived. Had they been avoiding the newcomers?
Trotting out after Neira, Bracken followed in silence feeling refreshed and alert despite the cold that began to batter him when they left the gully. Surprisingly, it just didn’t seem to bother him as much now. Curious…
Neira walked on, threading her way through rocks and past what were quite clearly short stubby plants of some description; the first signs of plant life Bracken had seen since coming here. They were damned hardy too whatever they were, he thought to himself as he followed the thickly cloaked mare closely. Despite her age, she was quite the nimble creature, avoiding stones and rocks with practiced ease. For his own part, it was all Bracken could do to keep up with her and not turn his ankle on some of the larger loose stones. They climbed up, following the ever deepening path as it snaked through walls that looked as if they had been cut into the very rock of the mountain, like some giant had cleaved it with an axe millennia ago and now, thousands of years later, here they were walking in the still and silent air of…
They’d stopped.
With a slight smile on her face, Neira looked back at him. Her voice taking on a strangely quiet tone,
“Tell me Bracken, what do you see, hmm?”
The black stallion blinked his large grey eyes and looked around them. They were in a ravine of sorts, the rock walls to either side lined with faint stripes of colour defining the various striations in the surface. Snow had fallen down here over countless years, some of it melting and forming enormous icicles and frozen tracks on the rock that glinted in the sunlight from high above. Bracken looked past Neira and saw…nothing, only where the ravine began to narrow, the rockfall leading up to a slight incline before a near vertical wall. He shook his head. Was he supposed to be looking for something in particular? Taking a deep breath, Bracken closed his eyes,
“Rocks, snow, ice, the sun above and blue sky. Nature.” He said.
“Hmm.” Neira cocked her head to one side and gave him an appraising look, “You are looking with your eyes, not your heart.” Bracken blinked, unsure what to say, but Neira had expected this and tapped him on the nose, “You are a child of the moon, a pony of the earth beneath your hooves.” She glided her hoof along his neck as she walked around him, “You bear her colours and her touch…” Neira whispered into his ear, “I see it in your eyes. I saw it when you first arrived; the Goddess has touched your soul.”
Bracken took a sharp intake of breath and tried to back away but Neira was behind him now, blocking his escape,
“Why so fearful?” the mare asked quietly, “You are one of the children who were born beneath the moon and bathed in the pale light of the Goddess’ love.” She smiled, “There is nothing to fear Bracken, nothing at all…not even death holds any terrors for those who embrace the Goddess’ love.”
Bracken lifted a hoof, “Neira, I…”
“Shhh!” the black mare lifted his chin with her hoof, “Here is your world, Bracken, here is where you belong.” She motioned towards the rocks and nodded her head, “Look now…look…and see”
What in Equestria was she…? Bracken sighed, shaking his mane and took a deep a breath, letting it out slowly. He let his mind take its own course, freeing himself from his worries, his concerns and doubts. Right now, here, in this place, there was only him, and the world, the world of soil, rock, snow and ice. All living things were connected his mother had always told him: he was a part of them and they a part of him. But there was more, much, much more. Life relied on the food grown from the ground, and the soil in turn was nourished by those that lived upon it. It had always been there, like some shining gossamer thread - the common theme that was a simple element of all of them and every thing. Bracken blinked in the sunlight, visualising the threads of life before him.
It shimmered, shining brighter than the sun above them, thinner than a hairs breadth, but stronger than diamond. It was so strange, so alien, and yet so familiar he felt he’d been looking for something that had always been there - something that had never been lost. Bracken could feel the tears welling in his eyes. Lifting his foreleg, he stared at his hoof, at the threads of light leading from it, disappearing into the rock, the earth, the sky and the land around them. Shining like the stars in the night sky, Neira stood nearby, watching him, smiling with a warmth that melted his heart. She was a part of this world, and a part of him…he felt the tears rolling down his cheeks and dropping to the ground to be absorbed back into the earth from where he had come and one day, would return. He tried to speak, but could only manage a bare whisper as his emotions were overcome by the sheer power of it all. She would hear it, she could understand his words - they were reflected in her eyes. Bracken spoke softly into the chill air of the mountain,
“I was never alone…”
Neira nodded slowly, her eyes sparkling in the silver light,
“Open the way, Bracken, it’s waiting for you.”
With a deep breath and without fear, Bracken traced the outline in the rock, the long silver thread that scribed an arc from the ground, through the variations in the surface and down once more. He moved forward, leaning his head on the wall and breathed out, feeling for the soul of the mountain, the heartbeat of Equestria far below. The Goddess knew, she was with him, they were all with him.
The rock moved.
Blinking in the bright light, Bracken watched the silver threads begin to fade, replaced by a glow of another kind - one that emanated from inside of the mountain itself, into a cave of…
“My Goddess…it’s…”
“Beautiful.” Neira finished with a smile. Walking past the black stallion, she suddenly turned and took his hoof, “Come! Further in and further on!” Neighing suddenly, she let go, laughing and cantered off down the long straight path between the lush bushes of green and silver. As she moved, her passing wafted up tantalising scents that tickled Bracken’s nose with their spicy perfume. Neira danced farther away, her mane swishing from side to side as she called out to him, “Hurry Bracken! Hurry!”
Bracken let out a loud neigh of his own, his inhibitions and cares thrown to the wind as he cantered after the black mare. He didn’t know what this place was, but here he felt suddenly alive, free, and full of the energy of Equestria. Faster and faster he ran, rushing past the strange silver bushes, past formations of rocks, crystals and over streams of bubbling fresh water that sparkled like diamonds in the night sky. Bracken was running so fast now his ears lay flat, his tail streaming out behind him. He didn’t know where he was going and he didn’t care - he didn’t care at all! All he wanted to do now was run, run and chase the mare who…
“My…Goddess…”
Bracken’s eyes suddenly began to register a change around him. The bushes were no longer only growing along the ground, they were up the walls, on…buildings….
His mouth hung open as he stared. All around him sat buildings of all shapes and sizes, with doorways, windows, even bridges across bubbling streams; all of them built in a breathtaking mixture of the living rock of the mountain and from crystals of the most beautiful blues, pinks and reds. Here, a small building with tools he recognised, all laid out awaiting the next project - a crafters home. There, a small house full of fragile scrolls and maps, the walls lined with strange writing, pictures, and scenes of places and things he’d never seen before. Throughout it all, on each roof, on every windowsill and wall, the silver bushes, heavy with their lush red fruit, glistened silently. In the distance the faint trickle of water played its own music into the emptiness, while Bracken’s ears were full of his loud breathing and beating heart.
He swallowed, trying to take it all in. Something was tickling at his memories, something that…
“Do like it?” Neira stood nearby, her voice gentle and soft.
“I…” Bracken span round, his eyes widening in shock, “Neira?!”
The black mare before him smiled coyly, her short black coat trim, sleek, and smooth, her mane and tail glistening with the radiant shine of health. Neira’s magenta eyes caught the silver light as she trotted up to him, a pony who looked now more like his own age, if not even slightly younger. She virtually pirouetted in place,
“What do you think?”
“I…” He didn’t know what to say! What was…?
Half closing her eyes, Neira sidled closer, her smile curling up the corners of her mouth.
“I wasn’t always as you see me,” she purred lustily, “I was your age once: young, fit and fleet of hoof.” She chuckled, “This…” she waved a foreleg around the cavern, “This is what I wanted to show you - this place, and all its secrets.”
“It’s…amazing…” Bracken was having trouble getting his words out and licked his lips. His mouth felt bone dry.
Neira grinned as she passed him a water bottle, “It’s a place our people found many years ago. It was long abandoned even then.” She looked about her in wonder, “We used to come here regularly, every winter, but now it is a place that is being slowly forgotten once again.”
“But why?” Bracken breathed, “It’s so beautiful! It would be so much better than living out in the snow.”
Neira shrugged, piling her equipment and cloak, “Ponies change, Bracken. Now all our people can think of is leaving our ancestral lands and living in the Equestrian heartlands, leaving what was our home and moving to where the grass is as sweet as honey and wheat grows like towers of gold.”
Bracken huffed, “When you put it like that…”
“Yes! When I put it like that!” Neira nickered, “You haven’t seen our home during the summer, Bracken. It may be a harsh place, but it is our place, our home. We left Equestria long ago to start a life of our own but now the young want to throw it all away, discarding our heritage and all that makes us who we are on the promise of some vague…” she waved a hoof, “Oh…buck me sideways!”
Bracken grinned at the mare’s words, but she wasn’t finished,
“I didn’t bring you here to hear me droning on about my woes.” She shook her head, “I wanted to see if you had it in you, ‘the gift’,” she smiled up at him, “and you do.”
“The gift?” Bracken asked in confusion.
“The gift all earth ponies are born with,” she ran her hoof down his neck, “yet few now can feel its touch, or hear its call.” Neira nickered, “Hmm…I knew I was right about you. Your eyes are a pathway to your heart…and your soul, Bracken.”
“Neira…” Bracken felt a little unnerved, “This sounds odd, all of this. I’m an earth pony, not a unicorn. I don’t have magic, and…”
She placed her hoof on his mouth stopping him, “It’s not magic, Bracken, not as your friend would know it. No, this is a different kind of power, one bestowed upon those who have a special connection with the natural world around them. It is within every earth pony; it is your element, your gift, for you and for those like you who understand its call.”
Bracken took a breath, reaching out in his mind for that feeling he’d had outside, the one that…
“Yes!” Neira said clopping her hooves together, “You see!” she placed her forelegs around his neck and hugged him, “I was right…I was right!” she jumped away laughing and dancing as if she were no more than a young filly. Bracken couldn’t help but smile, despite that peculiar niggling…what the hell was that? Why was it…
The writing on the wall.
“Oh Goddess….” He hurried over to Neira and grabbed her, staring into her eyes. She looked back in confusion. “Neira, we have to get out of here, we’re in terrible danger!”
“What? Bracken!” she chuckled, “There’s no danger here, why…”
“Damn it, Neira! Haven’t you heard of pixies?” Bracken stared about him, his hackles going up, half expecting at any time to hear that hideous chittering sound…
“Pixies? You mean the little folk?” Neira laughed, “They don’t live here!” she shook her head, pulling away from him, “They don’t like places like this, and they don’t bother ponies anyway. You’re not afraid of them are you?” She gave him an appraising look that spoke of some hidden mirth that he couldn’t feel right then despite her assurances.
Bracken let out a breath, his heart racing, “Neira, listen, Chalky and I were on an island, we were locked in a room and these…these ‘little folk’ attacked us. They nearly killed us - they eat ponies!”
“Hmph!” Neira snorted, “I’ve never heard of them doing that before.” She tossed her mane, “You judge their entire race by the actions of those you encountered do you?”
“Yes! They tried to kill us!” Bracken threw up his forelegs in exasperation at Neira’s reluctance to accept what he was saying, “Bloody hell, Neira, we were knee deep in the bones of their previous dinners!”
Neira shrugged, “I don’t doubt your story Bracken, but I can only speak from my own experience, and I find them to be a very pleasant and intelligent people.”
“P…People?!” he nearly choked.
“Did you try talking to them?” Neira asked absently.
“They weren’t exactly very talkative!” Bracken stomped his hoof, “But they were certainly hungry!”
“Ah.” Neira walked over to one of the bushes and began picking some of the berries off, placing them in a basket.
Bracken walked over, “What do you mean, ‘ah’?”
The mare paused, looking up at him with a stern gaze and he backed off, suddenly feeling rather foolish.
“I ‘mean’” she said, “that hunger can make you do things you wouldn’t normally do. The body’s demands for food, for survival, can make you act in a manner that you would normally consider barbaric.” She tapped him on the nose with the basket, “You ate the roll, remember?”
“That’s different!” Bracken protested.
“Is it?” Neira continued picking the berries, “We all do what we must to live, Bracken. All of us.” She motioned towards the bushes for him to help. Bracken sighed, conceding the point and settled back into the therapeautic work of collecting berries.
In short order the basket was brim full of the small red fruits. They were fascinating things too. Bracken lifted one, sniffing it and examined its crystalline structure – he’d never seen fruit like these before, they way they glistened and shone was almost mesmerising. It smelled enticing too; warm and spicy. He was nearly salivating at the anticipation of the taste, and lifted one towards his mouth.
“No!” Neira suddenly snatched the berry away, “Don’t just eat it like that! Good Goddess, Bracken, don’t you know anything?”
“How should I?!” he snapped back, “I’ve never seen them before!”
Neira rolled her eyes, “So you just thought you’d eat something you’ve never seen before?” She let out a breath and shook her head, “They’re spirit berries, used for replenishing the life energy of living creatures.” She raised an eyebrow, “In the right quantities, they can be used for making spirits.” Neira chuckled slightly then gave him a hard look “But not in here.”
Bracken scrubbed his mane, “Why? I don’t understand.”
“The world is thin here, Bracken.” Neira explained, “The veil between the worlds can be breached in a place such as this, and here, this is where the berries grow. Here…” Neira’s face took on a sad and wistful expression, “one can see those who have moved on.”
“Ghosts?!” Bracken squeaked, stepping back hurriedly.
“Not ghosts, you twit!” Neira replied irritably, “Those who have moved on to be with the Goddess of course!” She shook her head, “You probably know it as the ‘Eternal Herd’?”
“Oh.” Brackens mind was racing, “You can actually speak with those who are with the herd?” He looked about him at the buildings, the empty rooms that had once been a place of activity and life, “Do you think that’s why they built this place? So they could speak with those who had moved on?”
The mare nodded, “That is what I believe.” She gave Bracken a beaming grin, “Not as stupid as you look, eh?”
“Hey!”
Neira nickered, prancing away, “Do you want to see, Bracken? Really see?”
“See what?”
The mare grinned widely, “What lies beyond.”
“I…” Bracken suddenly had an image of a sea green mare, her yellow eyes gazing into his as their limbs entwined, her lips caressing his ears, “I don’t...I…”
“You can be with them again, you know.” Neira said distantly, “If only for a short while.”
Bracken shook his head, “No. No, Neira, I don’t want to.”
“Because you have found a new love?” she asked.
“No!” Bracken scrubbed his mane furiously, “Because it’s wrong! I don’t want to see Pickles like that! I want to…I want…Oh, I don’t know!” he gave himself a good shake, “Please Neira, I want to go back now.”
Neira smiled sadly, “I was right about you.” She said giving him a nudge, “I consider myself a good judge of character, Bracken, and you haven’t proved me wrong.”
Bracken stood watching her pack the berries into her pack. She was a fascinating mare, and in her own way, quite attractive. At least, she had been, once.
“Is it because of this place that look like that, Neira?” He asked, “Because of the veil?”
“Meh! I suppose so.” Neira shrugged as she pulled the straps closed on her panniers, “I believe it allows us to appear as we see our true selves; not how we see each other physically, as you see me outside - as an old wrinkly mare.” She waved a hoof, “And don’t give me that look, I know how I look to you, I do have eyes and a mirror you know!” she smiled, “The veil here shows us what we are inside, Bracken, a mirror of our soul if you like.”
“I think I understand.” He said warily.
Neira smiled, “You didn’t answer my question from earlier.” She raised an eyebrow. “How do I look now?”
“You look…beautiful.” Bracken coughed, quickly moving on, “Do I look any different to you?”
Grinning, Neira walked up to him, the scent of her as enticing as the berries. Bracken could feel his cheeks burning as she drew closer.
“You look…” The mare’s voice lowered to lusty growl, “delicious…” She suddenly barked out a laugh and trotted back to her cloak and gear, “Come on now, young Bracken, I wouldn’t want the fruit to spoil.”
She was some mare alright, Bracken thought to himself rolling his eyes. Still, he couldn’t help but smile. There was something here, in this place, with this mare, that made him feel…at home. He pondered everything he’d seen – about what he knew about the crystal empire, about what Neira had shown him. Would he really have wanted to see Pickles? He still felt confused inside, as though somepony had taken all his emotions and jumbled them up. Images flashed through his mind: Nightmare Moon, Pickles, and now, probably just as worrying…Neira - at least, the younger Neira at any rate. Goddess damn his hormones!
Bracken blinked in surprise. He’d walked out of the cavern, down the trail, through the village and was following Neira into her home before he’d realised it. Dear sweet Luna, he was losing his mind! That was it! It was this place, and this mare! He sighed, taking his cloak off. Maybe there was something in the drink she’d given him that did this to him, but…
Neira tapped him on the side of the head,
“Here, try this, it’ll warm you up.”
Bracken nodded and without really thinking, took the small cup from Neira and knocked it back in one. It nearly floored him. Choking and wheezing, Bracken dropped the cup and grabbed his chest. Dear Goddess, he was right! She was trying to poison him! His throat was burning like fire and his eyes felt like they were melting right out of their sockets. Knees shaking, he collapsed onto the rug by the hearth. Bloody hell fire! His insides were…were…pleasantly warm…
“You idiot!” Neira rushed to his side and lifted his head in her forlegs, resting his muzzle against her chest, “Nopony drinks spirits like that! Oh, Bracken…” she sighed, “You’re going to be a lot of work aren’t you?”
Trying to catch his breath, Bracken could feel the warmth of the alcohol running through him, together with the warmth of the mare and the heat of the fire. It felt good…very good. He yawned, snuggling into the warm fur. He could just…go to sleep…