//------------------------------// // Exodus into Solitude // Story: When the Lotus Blooms // by D4ftP0ny //------------------------------// Forever, as it turned out, was a very relative term, and was greatly influenced by outside forces. The rain had long since soaked the cloak she wore over her back, causing the material to stick to her coat and bunch across her shoulders as she walked. Her hood hung low over her face, the water saturating it slowly dripping down onto her exposed muzzle, but Sabersong was beyond caring about the water. It had been raining almost non-stop since she had left the camp, and despite the spring warmth of the weather the chill from being wet all the time was beginning to seep into her bones. It’s getting hard to remember what it felt like to really be warm, she thought blearily as she wandered down the sodden road, her hoofsteps random and clumsy as she staggered onwards. The mud that was now the road clung to the edges of her cloak as it was dragged through the muck; it even clung to her hooves to be smeared along the inside of the garment, and the longer she walked the more of her legs were covered by the dark brown gunk. Around her the countryside grew lush as she made her way to the south, away from the current battlefield of Lord Raven Arrow and Lady Rosewine who were fighting over a large piece of the Steelshod heartland. The trees near the road were finally beginning to show their full spring leaves after a long cold winter and as Sabersong continued on they were beginning to grow closer and closer together, slowly shaping themselves into the forests that bordered the Steelshod coast. The young unicorn was well versed in the geography of her country, having spent hours poring over her father’s maps at their family estate since she was just a foal, and if she had stopped to do a bit of reconnaissance she would have known that she was just over a day’s walk from the coastal city of Canterbury; it was a prosperous city, and a place where an industrious mare with her wits about her could make her way to anywhere in the known world for a fresh start. But Sabersong did not have her wits about her. In fact, when she glanced up at the trees from beneath her soaked hood she had absolutely no idea where she was… or even where she had set out to go. She hadn’t given much thought to it when she’d left camp, but south was the first direction she’d chosen and it seemed as good as any other. The unicorn squeezed her bloodshot eyes closed for a moment before forcing her leaden hooves to take another step. It will be fine, she thought firmly. I’ll be fine, I just have to keep going and I’ll make it. She wove uncertainly across the muddy road in a drunken pattern as she made herself keep walking, the pads of her hoofs caked with mud. I’ll be fine, she thought again, her tired eyes staring unblinking as she hurried down the road as fast as she could. She had no idea how long it had been since she’d left camp. All she knew was that the rain had been coming down on her ever since, and the short-lived breaks in the deluge were hardly a consolation as she trudged. It was all but impossible to tell the time of day through the gloom, the only discernible difference between morning, noon and night simply being the depth of the grayness around her; the clouds were slowly beginning to darken now, and a small, nagging voice in her head recommended that she stop for the night. She promptly ignored it. A drop of rain slipped from her hood down onto her muzzle, the crystal clear water sliding down her matted coat and into her open mouth; the water hit her tongue and was gone, though on reflex she clamped her lips and swallowed anyway. Her throat protested as her dry tongue grated against the arid roof of her mouth, the normally smooth, effortless workings of her body grinding like the wheel of a grain mill over coarse wheat. She winced in spite of herself, but her hooves never faltered in their course to the south. I have to keep going, she told herself again. I just have to… The steady drumming of the rain on the countryside about her had long since filled her head, but over it she was beginning to hear another sound as she staggered on her way; a subtle yet unmistakable ringing in her ears that played a sharp counterpoint to the cotton that was slowly building up behind her eyes and making it hard to think. Her muscles burned and her sides ached, and through the haze in her head she tried vainly to think of what she was going to do next. I could always go home, she thought as the landscape rolled by around her, but even as she thought it her throat constricted and she felt her anger flare hot enough that it flushed her chilled cheeks. No, I will not go home. There was nothing for her there except the doting, smothering touch of her mother and the jeering faces of her brothers, and she would be damned to Tartaurus before she let them see her in such a state. She winced and forced her addled thoughts away from the images her ruminations of home brought up: her mother’s smile, so sweet and loving yet hiding sour disappointment; her brothers’ judging eyes, filled with pride and confidence; and perhaps worst of all her father’s face, his expression saying everything while saying nothing… The rain slackened as she hurried down the road, her sword thumping rhythmically against her leg as she walked; the touch of her weapon had once been a great comfort to her, ensuring that the one thing she could count on in the entire world was there with her… but now its touch was like the kiss of a whip, spurring her ever onwards down the road. If I can’t go home, she thought as she passed through a large stand of trees that surrounded the road, then I suppose I could go back to Lord Raven Arrow and beg him to-… But even before she could finish the thought she saw those eyes again – the cold, frozen blue eyes that had burned themselves forever into her soul. She felt an icy touch slide down her mane and neck, and in spite of her decided lack of coordination her pace increased, her hooves skittering uncertainly across the road as she barreled on. No, I… I can’t go back there… I can’t… Sabersong’s teeth ground painfully together as she squeezed her eyes shut, trying to drive the image of his eyes, his smile, his blade from her memory altogether. And I can’t go to another Warlord because of my family… and because of my own cowardice. The admission stung almost as much as the wound on her chest, which rubbed uncomfortably against its wrappings; with every breath she could smell the blood that soaked the bandages beneath her sodden cloak, and the smell drove fear deeper into her heart. I can’t go anywhere… There is no place in Steelshod for a coward. She winced as the word seemed to crawl up her spine and settle in the back of her mind. Coward… That’s what she was, after all: a good for nothing, spineless coward that couldn’t even stand on her own hooves in a duel. There wasn’t a doubt in her mind that if she went back home to her family’s estate her brothers would delight in telling her about the duels they had won, the courage they had displayed in the face of death. They would carry on about their daring exploits, about the blood that had been shed by their blades, and they would all be so… A tree branch whipped across her face as her hooves plunged suddenly into softer soil, the sting of the thin twig bringing the tears she had forced away surging to the surface. They’d all be so brave… and I… Her eyes stared ahead unseeing as she barreled forward, her hooves scrabbling against the loose rocks and muddy soil as branches began to tug at her cloak from all sides. They pulled at it like a thousand grabbing hooves, all determined to slow her down and force her to stop her frantic flight, but Sabersong would not be stopped. No, never… I can never stop now. Her heart pounded in her chest as her tears streamed down her frigid cheeks, mixing quickly with the sweat and rainwater that covered her coat. Mud kicked up into her cloak as she ran, sticking in freezing clumps to her stomach and legs as the horrible, clinging chill along her neck spread through her mind and into her heart. It was a sensation that she had known since she was a foal and one that she had tried for years to tame, to control… but as she careened into the rapidly falling night with no plan, no hope and no place to even get dry that detestable, clinging emotion sank its claws into her like a starved griffon. Fear. Even thinking the word made her hooves move faster, her heart pound harder; her eyes widened as she stared ahead unblinking, her gaze turned inward as she watched the icy wraith of her fear spread its spectral wings to engulf her, driving her onward and onward, faster and faster. No, you won’t have me… y-you won’t…! Her teachers, her father, her brothers, they had always laughed at fear as if it were something that was beneath them and unworthy of their time, but fear had always been there for her in the dark of the night, skulking and waiting for her to lower her guard when she was alone, whispering in her ear and caressing her soul with its frosty touch. Now it seemed that her nameless fears had been given not only a name but also a face, and eyes that stared like blue daggers into her soul as she ran. Her hooves splashed suddenly into something cold and wet, and with a gasp she leaped blindly forward into the growing darkness. Her hood flew back off of her face as she careened into the night, her eyes wide yet unseeing as the wind and rain whistled around her… and for a moment, a peaceful, blissful moment everything went silent as the wounded mare leaped through the air. The rain pelted her face, splattering across her sweat-covered brow and her matted mane… and for a pair of heartbeats Sabersong felt her lips curve into a delirious smile. Maybe I’ll just fly away, she thought wildly. Fly away and never return to this place… Unfortunately for Sabersong her flight into the ethereal beyond was terribly short-lived, and her return was quick and violent. Her hooves touched the ground first, their tips digging into soft earth and pitching her forward so that her head smacked into the sodden soil, knocking her unconscious with a single blow. Her body went completely limp as her momentum carried her farther forward still, her cloak twining around her form as she tumbled for several long, painful seconds before finally lying still. The growing night slowly enshrouded her unconscious form, enfolding her in blackness as she sank deep into a dreamless abyss. ~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~ For all of her remaining days, Sabersong never knew how she survived that night out in the wild. She had been so weakened by her injuries, so delirious from hunger and thirst, and so exhausted from her reckless journey from Lord Raven Arrow’s lands that, by all accounts, she should have died that night, especially when taking her impromptu flight and crash landing into the equation. She would often reflect upon that moment in her life and wonder why she did not simply perish in that glade, slipping gently away from a life that had been full of uncertainty and pain into an afterlife of comfort. Then, after mere moments of thought, she would simply smile and say, “To die is too easy, I suppose. To live and fight onward is the test – and that night, despite my best efforts to the contrary, I passed.” As consciousness slowly returned to Sabersong, the first thing she noticed was a smell – a familiar scent that filled her head as her body took the first deep breath of wakefulness. It was a fragrance that she recognized immediately, even in her unconscious stupor: the smell of morning dew upon green grass with the earthy scent of trees floating beneath, a scent that gusted into her mind and swirled about, tossing away the cobwebs of sleep that filled her head. She squeezed her eyes shut tighter as she exhaled and drew in another breath, and as yet more scents from her surroundings filled her lungs she became aware of a firm, throbbing pain throughout her body that robbed her of any joy that the clean scents of spring could have brought to her. Instinctively she recoiled from the pain, her whole prone form clenching so that she curled into a ball as she winced. Uuughh… it feels like I was trampled by a whole regiment of soldiers… she thought weakly as she took another deep breath. It was, without a doubt, the most awful pain that she could ever remember dealing with: it had no singular source to focus on or shut out, nor did it seem to have a single specific cause that could be treated and ended. Instead, a single, unifying throb filled her from nose to tail, a pulse of pain that occurred every time she made even the slightest move. Sabersong snorted and winced as even the act of breathing differently caused her head to pound in time with her heartbeat. As she lay on her right side trying to gather any kind of motivation to move, the sounds of spring slowly began to infiltrate her dark, pain-filled world. Her ears twitched as she heard snippets of birdsong, their tunes bright and cheerful amid the gentle sighing of wind through treetops. The sound of a stream reached her ears, a gentle trickle of water as it bubbled down its chosen path that mixed with the wind and the birdsong to bring a single flash of hope to the young mare’s world. It wasn’t much, but it was just enough to encourage Sabersong to gently crack open one pink eye and view the place where she’d come to rest for the first time. The first thing she saw as her vision focused were blades of grass standing tall before her nose, their edges still decorated with gemstones of glistening morning dew. Sunlight spilled haphazardly through the trees that stood tall across the glade from her and, though she thought that it had to be morning for there to still be dew on the grass, she realized that she had no idea what time of day it was… or even if it had only been one day since she’d gone to sleep. How long have I been laying here? she thought as she opened her other eye, the grass obscuring all but the upper halves of the trees before her. Have I been here all night? Two nights? She lifted her head from the ground, determined to look around her a little better… but before she even had her neck fully upright the world swam before her eyes and she winced as a wave of nausea and pain filled her until she felt it pressing against the back of her throat. Oh Celestia… this is not good… She swallowed against the uncomfortable feeling at the back of her throat, and as her sandpapery tongue rasped against the dry roof of her mouth Sabersong found her first goal: she had to find some water, and it needed to happen fast. The simple act of making a goal for herself seemed to have an almost magical effect on Sabersong. She felt her nausea lessen, and, in spite of still feeling like she’d been beaten from top to bottom with practice swords by an army of disgruntled earth ponies, she managed to shift her body so that her right foreleg could slip beneath her. Pain blossomed upwards into her shoulders, a deep, insistent ache that demanded that she stay down on the grass where she was and not move for several days… but as Sabersong tried and failed to swallow a second time, she knew deep down that there was no other option but to get up. How long did I travel..? I don’t… I don’t even know how long I was walking, or which direction I was heading. Sabersong’s gaze shifted slowly from the grass in front of her to the other side of the glade, where bright beams of sunlight were painting the trunks and leaves a brilliant shade of orange. I guess that must be east, she thought, as her lip quirked into the ghost of a smile. That’s one mystery solved, I suppose… though it doesn’t tell me where I am, or help me find water. She pulled her left leg in towards her body, the hard edge of her hoof drawing a long, deep furrow in the damp earth beneath her before disappearing under the edge of the mud-spattered, grass stained cloak that still clung insistently to her neck and shoulders. Her brow furrowed as pain filled every ounce of her being, and after several long moments she lifted her left hoof to her throat, her shoulder throbbing as she did so. With slow, deliberate movements to ensure that she didn’t injure herself further, Sabersong unclasped her cloak and allowed it to fall away from her body, its soaked, filthy fabric falling to the damp ground with a muffled whump. The cool morning air rushed in as she exposed her wet, dirty coat, and a shiver lanced its way up her spine so violently that she had to clench her teeth to keep from crying out in pain. Oh by my ancestors, she thought weakly, that feels a lot worse than I thought it would… She forced her jaw to relax, and as her mouth came open the breath that had been trapped in her lungs hurried out in a sharp gasp. Come on… you can do this, she told herself. Just push with your legs and stand up. You can decide what to do once you’re upright, but you can’t do anything without getting to your hooves first! Her left hoof returned to the ground in front of her and, after a few quick breaths to muster her determination, she pressed her hooves down into the soft soil before her and pushed herself up off the ground. Sabersong’s eyes clenched shut and a loud groan burst from her lips before she could stop it as she stood up, her legs quivering so violently that she wasn’t certain they would hold her. The muscles in her shoulders and back all seemed to burst into flames simultaneously, sending a burning, aching sensation darting through her body that caused her groan to quickly turn into a hiss of inhalation through clenched teeth. She pulled her rear legs in closer, her hips exploding in the same burning ache that had filled her shoulders as she struggled to gather herself a bit closer to her center of gravity. I’m NOT going to end up back on the ground, she thought vehemently. That’s not going to happen, because if it does I’m not going to be able to get up again! Slowly but surely she shuffled her hooves in closer to her center until she stood fully upright, her chest heaving as an orchestra of pain serenaded the young unicorn: from a throbbing ache in her head to sharp shooting pains in her hooves, Sabersong was confident that she was feeling every ounce of pain that she’d ever feel in her whole life. Surely this is some kind of divine punishment, she thought as she dipped her head back towards the ground, her eyes once again squeezed shut against the pain. Nopony could do this kind of damage to themselves and survive… She lifted her head until her neck was parallel to the ground before opening her eyes, her matted blonde mane framing her view of the glade around her, and as her bright pink gaze refocused on the larger situation she felt her spirits lift, even if just a little bit. The glade was truly a wonder of natural beauty and even in her damaged state Sabersong felt a smile tug at the corners of her mouth as she turned slowly on her hooves, drinking deeply of her new surroundings. Tall deciduous trees ringed the broad expanse of open forest land with countless smaller trees dotting the glade itself, each laden with countless pink flowers that she recognized as cherry blossoms. They weren’t open yet, but she’d seen enough of them on her family’s estate to know that they would begin opening sometime in the near future. The sight of the flowers made her heart ache and, despite the myriad of other pains echoing through her body, she felt that ache more keenly than the rest. She closed her eyes for a moment and forced herself to take a deep breath to center herself as best she could before opening her eyes and continuing her survey of the area. There were ferns growing beneath the trees, their long, distinctive leaves glistening with dew, and as Sabersong turned with a wince she saw the path that she had come down to find this glade. It was barely noticeable enough to be called a path at all, and simply appeared to be a long stretch where no trees had happened to grow; she couldn’t see any signs that would point to it being a trail used by foresters in the area, nor did it appear to be an animal trail of any kind, at least as far as Sabersong could tell. Her gaze dropped from the trees to the trickling brook that hemmed the glade into its own little world, and she squinted at the obvious hoof marks in the soft mud of the bank. What are those..? A flash of cold wetness and the sensation of flying through the air filled her mind for a moment, and as her eyes followed the trail of mud and debris from the hoof marks to where she was currently standing, she slowly remembered how she’d come to be here in the first place – a memory that caused the injured mare to blush furiously at her own stupidity. By the moon and stars, how long did I walk? she thought as her eyes returned to the brook. Her throat felt like burned parchment, and the sight of clean, clear moving water was quickly returning her dehydration to the forefront of her thoughts. I must have been delirious by the time I stopped moving… maybe that’s why I don’t remember much about it. Her gaze followed the brook up to her left, and as she turned stiffly to continue tracing its path she saw a pond, roughly five pony-lengths across and twice that long, that lay half hidden behind a low stand of cattails. Her eyes widened, and without waiting another moment she started forward, her movements jerky and stiff as her muscles fought with her. In spite of her pain, Sabersong dropped to her knees and plunged her muzzle into the pond, drinking greedily of its clear water. Despite the warm sunlight pouring through the trees the water was icy cold, and Sabersong winced as it bit painfully at her parched throat, though it certainly didn’t stop her from drinking. She took several long, satisfying gulps before pulling her face up and away from the water, the wet tips of her blonde mane falling to stick against her face and neck as she swallowed the life-giving substance. She wanted to gorge herself on it – to simply plunge her whole head into the water and drink and drink until she could drink no more – but she knew from the lessons her father and brothers had given her as a filly that drinking without restraint when you were dehydrated could cause her yet more physical pain, and that was something she wanted to avoid, if she could. The cold water traced its way down her throat, the crystal clear liquid cooling her insides and bringing a small, honest smile to Sabersong’s face. I’ll never take water for granted again, she thought fervently. Who knew that even murky pond water could taste so good… She glanced down into the water as its surface calmed, and between the wide leaves of water lilies and tall stalks of cattails she saw her reflection for the first time since she’d left Raven Arrow’s army. She winced as her eyes traced over the large scar on her right cheek, the bare flesh still bright pink and barely finished healing. I don’t remember taking the bandage off, she thought as she touched it lightly with her hoof, but I suppose that’s to be expected, all things considered. She sighed and with a shift of her shoulders she dipped her front hooves into the pond and rubbed them together, freeing them of the mud, rocks and other particulate that had found residence in her fetlocks and pads. She could see that her coat, pristine and white before she’d left the camp, was now a strange ivory off-white thanks to stains of dirt, sweat, and rainwater, and the very idea that she’d let herself be so overcome with emotion that she’d let herself fall into such a state made her shudder. After ensuring that her hooves were clean – at least as clean as she could make them here – she lifted them from the water and gave them several sharp flicks to remove as much of the liquid as she could from her fetlocks before turning her gaze down towards her chest, where the large bandages still sat loosely against the wound that had almost taken her life. Sabersong winced as a ghost of fear passed through her heart, but after taking a deep breath she forced herself to bring her hooves to the bandage, which had spatters of mud, twigs and grass caught in its fabric. She pulled at the cloth that held the gauze in place against her with the tips of her hooves, and as soon as she succeeded in untying the cloth the whole bandage fell away, revealing deep red-brown bloodstains soaked into the gauze. Her head swam slightly as she looked down on it, and in spite of her intentions she almost lost what little courage she’d mustered to look at her wound directly… but she clenched her teeth tightly, swallowed once, and forced herself to look down at her chest. The wound was still stitched closed, and thankfully was not bleeding anywhere despite her frantic departure from Raven Arrow’s care. The blood on the gauze was old, perhaps from before she’d even risen from her bed at the camp, and the smell emanating from it was gut-wrenching, to say the least. The unicorn felt the water in her stomach boil as she tore the bandage away from her body, and with a sharp sigh her pink magic snagged the whole mess of bloody rags and tossed them away from her, the mass of brown and off-white sailing over the plants next to the mare to settle at the trunk of a tree twenty feet away. “Don’t throw up, Sabersong,” she muttered to herself, her voice gravely and hoarse both from exposure and lack of water. “If you do, you’ll lose all the water you just drank and then some… don’t throw up…” She closed her eyes and swallowed firmly before taking several long, deep breaths and, after several tense seconds, the crisp scents of the pond, the woods, and the morning air itself cleared her head and chased her nausea away, leaving nothing more than a sickly sweet memory for her to cringe over. Well, that’s done with, she thought as she turned her attention back to the wound on her chest. Now it’s time to see if I can clean myself up a little. Her horn ignited with the magenta aura of her magic once more, and this time she plucked a small amount of water from the pond. The bubble of magic floated to her and settled between her front hooves, hovering just off the grass before her in front of her chest; with a twist of her magic she turned the sphere of water into a long tube contained within the magical aura, and gentle pressure with her magic along the tube allowed the unicorn to gently spray the water and begin cleaning her stitched wound, the water clearing away the dried blood and other various debris that had caked there during her reckless journey. The unicorn winced as the stream of water tugged at her stitches, and with a sinking feeling in her stomach she realized that she might have done herself more damage than she realized. Not changing the bandages for that long, not to mention not cleaning or caring for the wound in all this time, could mean infection, she thought, a sour taste rising in her throat as she continued washing herself. It’s clear that I was on my way to being healed, but it’s so sore and tender… She shook her head and sighed. One thing at a time, Saber – clean it as best you can, and wait. The morning sun continued to rise as the mare washed herself, its glorious, warm rays filling the glade as Sabersong continued to drink and wash, drink and wash. She decided that she would rest that day, and with a fresh supply of grass, cattails and water lilies nearby she knew she’d be able to get a little food in addition to her supply of water. It wasn’t much, but she knew that the last thing she should be doing was exerting herself until she was rehydrated and rested – and those were two things that the mare knew she could take care of.