//------------------------------//
// Chapter 4: Cavern's Rest 
// Story: Only Embers Remain 
// by Gapeagle 
//------------------------------//

The warrior slid down a rocky slope, scraping some of her rags off from her legs. With a violent grunt, she dusted herself off and looked at the new scratches on her ankles in frustration. The trail was hardly a trail at all and full of hazards.  She popped her crooked neck after taking such a hard ride down the rough slop. Dust was all up in the air around her, making her cough disgustingly as if it was a cough that would kill a living pony.

"That friend of the Firekeeper better be nearby," the warrior growled.

With her sword dragging loudly along the ground, she marched through the thick brush and piles of dead branches to stay along the overgrown trail. Without her helmet, she had to make sure the low boughs full of thorns did not sratch her face. More than once she tripped and fell to the ground to get back up with a frustrated curse at something she was not sure actually existed. The only objects that she cursed that she knew were real were the blinding sun and the gloomy moon that simultaneously watched her from the still heavens. 

The warrior shoved some brush out of her way to be relieved to see that the path was becoming wider. Parts of ruins started to be more common as she went along. Their mossy stone edges dotted the landscape between the giant trees and the invasive shrubbery. Some of them had carvings in them of ponies in armor and winged unicorns leading them. The warrior understood none of them and looked at them with only mild interest. If they were not going to aid her in her journey, she did not need to pay them any attention.

The feeling of souls soon returned to her. Something ahead was full of them, but there was nothing soothing or inviting about it. With the sensation, the warrior pressed on at a faster pace. Arches and cobblestone started to appear, turning the gooey sounds of the wet moss under her hooves to steady clicks of the drier stone. 

Then it came into view. It was what appeared like an outdoor theater with several stone steps in the shape of a semicircle. At the base where the stage would be was a small flame like the one she had left, and like all of them, the fire was all but gone. The warrior approached the theater from the stage side. The stone stage was far more damaged than the seats. At some time this was a place of plays and concerts, but it was incredibly silent now.

The warrior spotted a lone pony sitting on the steps. By the size and shape, she could tell the pony was a mare. The mare was covering her face, but her mane, as black as ebony, flowed almost elegantly in the light wind. She wore armor of an elaborate sort complete with shiny golden pauldrons, blue drapes, and bright golden shoes for the hooves that she buried her face in. From the ears, the warrior could tell that the pony had gray fur.

"Hello?" the warrior called out to the pony.

Without a word, the mare looked up slowly, revealing a beautiful face with vibrant pink eyes surrounded by thick black eyelashes. The mare was by far the most fair creature the warrior had seen yet. The only thing that ruined such a face was the deep frown that told a story of horror and sadness. It was such a striking expression that the warrior stopped in her tracks.

"You seem to have your wits about you, warrior," the mare said. "And that's despite the rotting flesh on your bones. If you didn't speak, I would think you were bloody hollow."

"Are you a friend of the Firekeeper at Hollow Shades?" the warrior asked.

"'Friend' is a loose term, but perhaps in this world we are. Let me guess, she thinks you're the savior of Equestria?"

"In a sense,"

"Of course. Please warrior, there's an open seat next to me. Sit down and rest."

The warrior nodded her head and walked by the small fire to the steps. The mare watched her with little interest and her frown remained stagnant on her face. As she approached, she felt the souls within the mare. However, there was something else in her that had its own feeling. The Firekeeper also felt this way, but not this prominent.

The warrior sat down next to the mare, who did not look at her. Together they stared downward at the fire at the front of the stage. The creaking trees around them and the whispers of the wind were the sounds until the mare spoke up again.

"My name is Octavia. I hail from Ponyville, though I used to live in Canterlot," she said.

"I have no name. Well, not one that I can remember."

The mare nodded. "As usual. You must've popped up from the Ashen Wastelands. Deceased warriors keep springing up from there in some mad fashion. Most of them lack any wits and simply wander about, moaning like an average noble pony from Canterlot. I-ugh, you are foul! Move over a seat or two!" Octavia swung her hoof in the air and covered her nostrils.

The warrior was confused for a second, but obliged by scooting away from the mare. "I can't help but notice that you and I do not share this rotting flesh. Why are you not like me?"

"Because I'm not an inch from becoming hollow, that's why. I did not go and get myself killed a hundred times over in the battles with the griffons. I'm no where near becoming hollow and so I show no signs of becoming a mindless husk of dead flesh."

"The Firekeeper says something about Hope-"

"Load of bollocks, that all is," Octavia jumped in. "Hope and no Hope is nothing but hogwash. There is not such thing as Hope, not in this world. Look around you, there's nothing worth saving. Even this place, a place where I performed countless times with my cello, is nothing but ruins and a Celestia-forsaken dump. I'll tell you right now, everything that the Firekeeper, that Sunset Shimmer, told you is nothing but a lie. She just wants to think she still has a bloody purpose in this world."

"Then what's your purpose?"

"By Tartarus, I don't have one. I used to be a great cellist. A pony that had fans in every demographic. The curse fell upon us and then I lost everything. Everything...including my best friend. The world is done, it has ended and we still alive are just too stubborn to admit it. Warrior, don' try to be a hero. You will fail and you will die horribly at the claws of the monsters around us. I have accepted this fact and I'll stay here until, well, I become hollow. Maybe being mindless is not so bad after all. The mindless don't know sadness or fear."

"Well you do that," the warrior huffed. "I don't see myself doing that. I have the dying body and yours is just fine and look at our attitudes. You never answered my question about obtaining a body that isn't rotting or as smelly as mine."

"You want to know?" Octavia raised a brow.

"Yes."

"Well, there are ways to get your body back. It's called Spirit, though most call it Harmony. Ponies run and operate on Harmony. That's why the Elements of Harmony were so important to us all those years ago. Well, after the curse, Harmony became something corporeal, something of monetary value. It kept you from becoming a hollow like the other species. The griffons and even the dragons went fully hollow before Equestrians did. It's because of Harmony. You can get Harmony by feeding the flames like the little one over there. They don't burn with wood, but with Hope and Harmony, though I still don't believe in the former. I've never been sure what you give it to have it bless you with Harmony, but I've done it. You can also steal Harmony from other ponies who possess it. Now don't get any ideas, trying to kill me isn't going to help you. I'll kill you long before you could even react."

"So I need Harmony?"

"Yes."

"Then I'll get it."

There's a third way too..."

"What would that be?"

Octavia shook her head with a sigh. "By taking an Element of Harmony. The Elements contain so much Harmony and all. They have been drained though. They aren't the same as before. However, if you ever get your hooves on one, keep it. I'm sure it'll help you along the way."

The warrior thought about this. Every mention of the Elements of Harmony made her memories shake. They were something significant, but she could not remember what they exactly were. With a sigh, she rubbed her temple.

"Anything else?" she asked.

"Eh, nothing that will help your sorry lot. I know you warriors. You get out of the grave, raise Tartarus for a day, and then get killed by the beasts of Equestria to get back up as a hollow. It's always the same. I'm sure you think you're tough for reaching even here. That centaur took up the waterfalls and I presume you killed him. I say good on you, lassie, but that's where the glory ends. Beyond here is a tunnel. A large cave of sorts. It's the reason this place is called Cavern's Rest. It's a pass that goes underneath the mountains to the southwest. Well, it's a straight forward path, but riddled with beasts: manticores, chimera, and even a hydra. If you're such a mighty warrior, then this shouldn't be a problem for your ilk. Yeah, keep that bloody thought real close to you when one of the claws rips your body into little pieces. And beyond that? Ruins and ruins and forests full of death. This little town may be the most peaceful place in Equestria. It's why I don't leave. What better place to sit down and watch your whole life simply wash away and wait until you eventually lose your Harmony and turn into a hollow? I think I chose wisely. Eh heh he he!"

She finished with a weak and dry laugh. The laugh made the warrior uneasy and so she slid a little farther away from the black-maned mare. Octavia laughed a little longer before stopping the chuckling short when she realized she was doing it so creepily. Her wild grin was returned to its usual frown. She took a breath and looked once again at the empty stage.

"Is it really that futile?" the warrior asked.

"I don't know," was the only answer.

The warrior rolled her eyes at the stubbornness of he mare. "Well then, I'll be on my way then," the warrior stood up and patted some dust from her armor. "Guess I'll find you here often."

"Nah, if you somehow clear the cavern of creatures, I'll follow you," Octavia said quietly.

"Oh? Just let me do all the hard work?" the warrior raised a disappointed brow.

"If you can't do it by yourself, there is no chance you can be the true hero of this tale."

The warrior snorted and shook her head. "Fine."

The warrior said some more words under her breath before walking up the rest of the amphitheater's steps. Octavia swallowed hard and returned her face to her hooves. She shifted her body to watch the warrior depart without removing her head from her legs. She could only pity the warrior who had such false confidence.

"Just another Vinyl for the burning piles..."


~~~